Thursday, June 3, 2010

Barf

Let’s talk about what’s been going on in my house this afternoon all during what we will loosely refer to as “naptime.”
So, today, after lunch, I put Finny down for his afternoon nap. Then, exhausted from a morning of play, play, play, I put myself down for my own afternoon nap. Just as soon as I found myself drifting peacefully into a coma, I heard it. The distinct “clank” Tissa (Finny’s pacifier) makes when she hits the floor.

“Tissa! Tissa! Tissa!” Cries of desperation shouted from Finny’s crib. So, I wrenched myself out of bed and sternly walked into his room to retrieve Tissa for a smiling Finny, who may or may not have given me a devilish wink as he pointed at me and said, “Gotcha!” I told him firmly that I would not come back again.

I left and once again lay down and drifted off into my tranquil coma. This time I was in even deeper when I heard the distinct “clank,” again followed by shouts of “Tissa! Tissa! Tissa!” I was not going back in. He had been warned and besides I was crossing over to the other side of nap heaven.

I heard his cries of “Tissa” through my foggy nap brain for a few minutes and was able to ignore them, until I suddenly heard another sound—gagging. At this sound, I immediately popped out of bed and ran to see what my poor child was choking on. Once again, there he was, standing at the edge of his crib grinning his head off, and this time, covered in puke.

“Yucky!” he said grinning broadly. Furious, I began to wipe the puke off of his hand and continued as he directed me, saying, “Yucky toes. Yucky shirt. Shorts. Blankie.” I pulled him out of bed to change his clothes and sheet, and after I had changed his clothes, he bolted down the hallway shouting “Choo-choos! Play Choo-choos!”

Once everything was cleaned up, I put him back in his crib and got in the shower, where I was able to successfully block out all nap protests under the running water. It wasn’t until I emerged once again that I heard “Clank” followed by “Tissa! Tissa! Tissa!”

Wanting to avoid another barf session, I entered the scene to once again retrieve Tissa. Finny was there smiling and for a second time, standing in a puddle of his own self-induced chunder. This time, judge me if you will, I lay an extra blankie over the puke and made him sleep on it. And that’s what he’s doing this very minute as I tell you my story.

Some people say a little lavender on the pillow will help you sleep. Today, for Finny, it was regurgitated turkey and cheese on whole grain. To each his own.

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