Friday, February 20, 2009

Happy Valentine's Day!

I had thought of many titles for this post and many ways to frame it, but really wanted to showcase Oliver's awesome valentine he made at school, so I thought I'd tell you about Oliver's second-ever Valentine's Day last Saturday -- and let's just preface it by saying it wasn't all roses and chocolate.

Friday night involved pizza and beer (both in the "lots of" form) and a late night, so Eric and I woke up a little peaked as my Grandma Carnes would have said -- that's phonetically pee-kid (oh, the irony continues). But none-the-less we trekked up to Bubbie's house in Riverwoods for a Valentine's Day lunch with the whole family. It was great, actually -- a spread of comfort foods from cottage cheese and peaches to grilled cheese and tomato soup. Problem was, Oliver wasn't comforted by any of it. He just wasn't having any of it. Not interested and crabby as hell. So I take him out of the high chair and am sitting on the couch in the next room when it begins. The vomit. The hurl. The milky, parmesan-smelling, chunk of cracker barf.

Keep in mind that this is our first adventure in throw-up. Spit-up, as any parent will tell you, is a much milder and completely acceptable beast comparatively.

Let's just say thank goodness Bubbie and Poppa have hardwood floors because carpet would have been a disaster. He seemed to improve after that and by some grace of god, I had thrown in an extra set of clothes for the trip. But, no sooner did our original clothes come out of the dryer than he was up for a repeat performance -- this time on Daddy and in the kitchen. Poor kid. It really is horrible. Long story short, we get home, he does it twice more over the course of a few hours and finally goes to bed. We worry all night that he's going to choke on it and die in his sleep, but he makes it and we go about our business.

The weekend and into the week were pretty spotty with more incidents of lost lunches -- oh, and the all-night heaving session I had on Sunday and Eric on Monday. Details are unwanted. I understand. TMI, you say? I understand. I wish I could have skipped it, as well.

Overall it's been a rough week, but we got through it. He's feeling much better. Not eating as much and Er and I are about the same (don't you just hate it when NOTHING sounds good?). I handled it all much better than I thought I would, to be honest. I didn't completely freak out. And I didn't run away and leave Eric to clean it up. In fact, I found myself rushing to help because my baby wasn't feeling well, and well, I hate that.

This does not mean that when I see the following (a not-uncommon occurence in our house) that I rush quite as fast or at all for that matter. (Sorry, I couldn't resist.)


Photo released with permission from Cub and Junior (origination unknown):

2 comments:

Danielle said...

That was just wrong!! It started out with a picture of the cutest Valentine I have ever seen and then you have to end it with horror and disgust! LOL Although, the added comment about the phone being released with the permission of Junior and Cub did make me smile a little.

Angela said...

Denise, this was such an awesome post. I love your sense of humor..just wait until Oliver is old enough to read this blog--- or even better, you can read it to his first Girlfriend!