Yesterday was what I call a "Motherhood Isn't For Sissies" day. These are the days when you realize that it's no small feat just to survive. There really needs to be a medal or trophy for moms at the end of those days. At least a certificate.
I took Penelope to the doctor after a day or two of blow-out, drippy, seep through the diaper AND the clothes poo-poos and projectile vomits that get rid of all that is within her. Luckily, it isn't more serious than a stomach virus, which will pass in another day or two. But yesterday I thought I was going to join her with the puking because remember, I'm pregnant and always on the verge of it anyway but then when certain smells hit my nose. . . . Penelope vomited and pooped green runny poopy at the same time while sitting on the kitchen table in the Bumbo during lunch yesterday. I got up, started the bath, wiped her down with wipes to at least get the chunks off, bathed her, then came back and cleaned/disinfected the entire Bumbo, kitchen table, and kitchen area. Allie went outside and played during that time because she didn't want to see or smell it. Maggie, who was even closer than Allie to the damage, stayed right there at the table and kept eating her sandwich. She didn't see what all the fuss was about. After cleaning, I sent her outside too. But within 5 minutes, she was standing at the back door, kind of squatting down, saying, "I got poo poo." I thought maybe she just needed to sit on the potty, but no. She really did "got poo poo"- all in her panties and all over her legs.
On these days, I really would love to celebrate having made it through the day once the kids are asleep, but there are only about 5 minutes between the kids crashing and me crashing. I'll try to celebrate today. Maybe I'll even make myself a medal.