Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Part III: My Favorite Superpower

Part I: Superpowers at the Armory

Part II: Superpowers Aren't Enough

Part III: My Favorite Superpower

I slowly stood up and turned to walk backwards, leading Joel to the bathroom.  Bent over, taking tiny steps, I was encouraging him as we went.

"Come on, buddy, you're doing great."


"Walk with me, buddy.  Good job."


"You can do it, big guy."


By the time, I was out my bedroom door and starting around the corner into the bathroom, Kyle was by my side.  I pleaded, "Help me.  Get him to the bathroom."  

"Here's the bowl," he insisted.

I didn't see the bowl, but I looked again... I didn't see it because it wasn't one of my shiny stainless steel bowls, it was a clear bowl - the bottom piece of our salad spinner. 

Oh, the stainless bowls are dirty - I knew that.

Kyle was securely holding the bowl so I uncupped my hands and allowed the contents to fall into the bowl with a thud.  Then, I lightly shook my hands.  Plop plop. 

I washed my hands while Kyle tended to Joel. 

Joel puked again.

I washed my hands again. 

Joel stood there in a retch-induced stupor.  

I smell-checked my hands and washed them again.

Kyle poured the contents of the salad spinner down the garbage disposal.

I washed my hands again. 

I heard the blades chew the chunks Joel had not. 

I washed my hands again.

We got Joel a drink of water, assisted him in brushing his teeth, and examined his pjs in the light.  To our surprise, they were clean - vomit free.  So we tucked him back into bed and hoped for the best. 

We went back to our room and climbed into bed, but I got back up immediately and washed my hands - again - and rinsed them in bottled lemon juice. 

We laughed at the whole debacle to calm our nerves and eventually went back to sleep. 

It wasn't until the next morning that I noticed my cupped hands could not, after all, hold the contents of a toddler's stomach.  There was one quarter sized spot of upchuck that had spewed on to the side of the bed and landed on the sheets.  Ew.

And then, I sank to an all-time low.  I made the bed.  That's right, it was on the vertical surface and I wasn't going to touch it so I left it there. For two days.  Without regret. 

Some of you are totally appalled that I would actually leave my child's expelled vittles on the side of my bed and not lose a wink of sleep, but I implore you: don't judge me.  I was (and still am) using my favorite, most essential, and most revered Parental Superpower:  Survival. 

Salad anyone?

Monday, October 15, 2012

Part II: Superpowers Aren't Enough

Part I: Superpowers at the Armory

Part II: Superpowers Aren't Enough

As Joel's dinner magically reappeared beside our bed, we both responded with catlike reflexes.

My cupped hands found Joel's chin.  

Daddy lept to his feet to assist. 

I heard him fumbling about with items on the nightstand on the other side of the bed. Kyle's blind without his glasses, but surely LIGHT would help.  I wish I could say I asked with honey dripping from my lips, but I'm sure it was a menacing growl:  "Could you turn on the light?" 

"I'm trying."  He gasped. "My hand is asleep." 

My momentary sympathy was usurped by my own disgust. There are warm chunks in my hand.  The knob on the lamp is one thing, but the switch on the wall would also help.

Finally, he got the light on and ran out of the room, presumably to fetch a receptacle. The nesting stainless steel bowls I got for Christmas from my mom a few years ago have come in handy for similar situations in the past.  I heard him searching in the kitchen.

With the light on, I could see my legs trapped under our 30 pound down comforter.  This problem solving Zombie Mommy had no idea how to get out from under the weight without hands.  Finally, I slinked my legs out the side and turned to a sitting position pulling Joel's chin with me. This is no small feat - do you know what 6 pregnancies can do to your abs?  Obliterate them. You should try this sometime.. while holding a palm full of someone else's regurgitated dinner.  There is no superpower for this. That was pure adrenaline.

*Gameshow idea: Parenting Fear Factor.  I've got poop and vomit scenarios to keep them on air for years.  I digress.*

An eternity (like 5 whole seconds) passed and Kyle had not returned. Maybe he slipped on a puddle of water on the tile floor and was lying unconscious in a pool of his own blood.  No matter, it was time for me and Joel - still tossing his cookies - to make our way to the bathroom. 

To be concluded...

Part I: Superpowers at the Armory

The other night, Kyle and I discovered another Parental Superpower. We already know that Mom has Eyes in the Back of her Head, and Dad can Read Minds (especially mischievious little boy minds).  And then there's The Voice. The Voice that causes even the most rogue of toddlers to stop dead in their tracks.  It is only possible in times of imminent danger and saved our oldest in a parking lot once.

The extent of this Superpower had not been fully tested until the other night. It had already been one of those nights. Samuel had been fussy off and on from midnight to 1:30am.  By the time Joel was standing bedside at 2am, we were already sleep deprived zombies.  I told him 3 or 4 times to go back to bed, but there he stood with his fuzzy blanket over his right shoulder and his left thumb securely vacuumed into his mouth.  I must've dosed off, but then...

it happened.

There is a noise.  A harrowing noise that the body makes as the sphincter between the stomach and the esophogus opens and vomit rises through the throat forcing air out of the mouth. It is such a distinct sound that it can raise Zombie Mommy and Corpse Daddy from deep sleep to ready-for-battle in a millisecond. 

Ask me how I know.

I call this Superpower: Bat Ears.

In all fairness, this isn't a new superpower. I've used Bat Ears before. It is most likely the same Parental Superpower that helps me distinguish one squeaky bed or door from another and to hear when the refridgerator door has been penetrated.  It allows me to know the answer to the question, "did you wash your hands and flush the potty?" before I ask. I can hear cabinets open and stuffed animals fall.  I would most certainly win Name that Sound if it was my family making noise in my house.  However, I did not know the extent of the Bat Ear superpower and that it works even in my sleep.

The other night, my Bat Ears roused me from deep sleep to cupped hands, but they did not prepare me for what came next.

To be continued...