"Raising a kid is part joy and part guerrilla warfare."
~Ed Asner

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

WARNING: Weak Stomachs Beware

Dear Dude, (I think he would prefer dude over sir as he was a young guy)

Last night when my son became violently ill in the baby aisle at Meijer, I looked around for an employee or anyone really to help.  I realize most people would probably walk in the opposite position upon seeing my situation but when I got your attention from a distance and yelled that my son threw up everywhere, instead of pretending you didn't hear me, you came to my aid.  Armed with gloves, disinfectant, a massive supply of paper towels and a large box to dispose of the mess, you handled the situation like a pro.  You were kind and lighthearted.  I don't know your name, but thank you.  

With Regards

The woman whose son upchucked everywhere in Meijer and whose daughter asked you a bazillion questions.

I've had my share of 'getting sick in public' situations with my children and...even me.  But it was when they were babies and spit-up.  Spit-up is much more accepting in public because that's what babies do.  It's expected.  Babies eat, sleep, poop and spit-up.  You come prepared with spit-up cloths, wipes, and disinfectant.  My babies spit-up a lot.  They wore it on their clothes.  I wore it on my clothes.  But it was no big deal.  I mean it was gross, but you deal with it.  This was different though, much different.  This was the first time that my toddler actually vomited everything in his stomach, that appeared mostly undigested, in public.  It was pasta and red sauce and it smelled worse than any baby-spit up. 

The evening started out fine.  I fed the babies.  They played.  I cleaned.  We went to Meijer later in the evening to get a few groceries.  Izzie was singing and Noah was saying hi to everyone.  We had been in the store for about ten minutes when Noah started fussing.  He kept putting his finger in his mouth and saying, "Hurt!"  I rubbed my finger over his gums and felt that his other 'sharpie' was about to break through.  I thought that it was causing him pain.  I already had what we needed and started making my way to the front of the store.  Noah's fussing grew worse and his eyes started tearing up.  I decided to stop by the baby aisle and pick up some 'baby crack' teething tablets so he didn't have to wait until we got home.  I had just opened up the bottle when he looked at me, started crying, and threw up.  Now, if you know Noah, then you know he puts 100% into everything he does.  This includes when he's sick.  He had his dinner all over his clothes, shoes, the cart, the floor and a little over splash on me.  After making sure he was done, I took his shirt off, balled it up and wiped his mouth a bit.  I ran to the end of the aisle to look for an employee but saw no one.  I ran back to Noah to give him a little comfort.  I ran back to the end of the aisle and saw 'dude'.  I yelled my situation to him and he said he would be right back.  As we were waiting, a few girls started coming down the aisle we were in and I told them that didn't want to come down this aisle and explained why.  They weren't very impressed.  You know what?  Wait until it happens to you.  

Dude came armed with everything he needed to clean-up the vomit.  The good thing about being by all the baby stuff was that I was able to go to the next aisle over and grab a container of wet-wipes to clean Noah up.  While dude was cleaning up we chatted about our children.  I had felt really bad that the first Meijer employee I saw to help me was this young 'dude' but it turned out he was a father himself and totally understood.  When I apologized for the mess his response was that he had to clean it up at home and was used to it so this was no big deal.  His little boy was about the same age as Noah and in fact their birthdays were only a couple weeks apart.  Noah sat in a zombie trance wrapped up in his coat, which I had taken off when he first got in the store, thank goodness.  Izzie was her usually inquisitive self.

Why does he have so many paper towels?
Why is he wearing gloves?
Why did Noah throw up his pasta?
What is that box for?
What is that smell?
What is that guy doing?  
Why isn't Noah saying anything?
Is Noah sick?

And on and on and on and on...

Since we already had what we needed in the cart I proceeded to the check out and paid for our stuff.  When we got home, I gave Noah a bath, cleaned him up and was just about to rock him when...He threw up. everywhere. all over him. all over the floor. everywhere.  I waited a few minutes to make sure he was finished and started over again.  I cleaned up the vomit, gave him a bath, put on another pair of fresh pj's and rocked him in the rocking chair for awhile.  He slept on me while Izzie laid in her bed reading a book.  Izzie, by the way, was very understanding about Noah being sick.  She hung out reading books and talking to herself while I took care of Noah.  After making sure Noah was sound asleep and appeared relaxed and comfortable, I gently placed him in his crib.  

He slept all night and woke up fine this morning.  



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