Tis The Season…For Vomiting
Don’t you just love the yin and yang of the holiday season? On the one side you have your joy, your family, your cheer, your decking of the halls, your wonderment fantastic! And on the other side….you have the vomiting. The fever, the sore throat, the cough, the congestion, the torn flesh from the sides of your nose from blowing into gritty tissues, the diarrhea, and more vomiting.
I’m not a big fan of vomiting. When I’m sick, I go out of my way to not throw up. I will curl up in a ball, I will moan, I will rock back and forth, pray, breathe heavily, spit, pray to a different god than the one before – just in case, whatever it takes. I do NOT want to throw up. Kids on the other hand have no problem throwing up. The instant the mood strikes, they will purge. This will happen over the toilet, in their bed, on my chest, the couch in the living room, on berber carpeting, wherever they happen to be. Unless the kid has a fever, getting him to stay laying down in one spot is next to impossible. So we parents need to be on our toes at all times, listening for that precursor burp-gag thing, so that we can chuck a large bowl under their face.
I think the winter season is the perfect season for all the wonderful holidays, because if we had Christmas and Thanksgiving in the spring or summer, then the winter would have nothing. It would be one of the most depressing times of year. Snow would be linked to heavier traffic and freezing cold, instead of snowmen and Santa’s home. The leaves falling would signify the beginning of the Vomit Season as opposed to the Holiday Season. We really need to have those awesome family holidays during the winter to balance out all the depressing sicknesses that come up this time of year.
Right now, Noble is laying on the couch after having thrown up all morning. We’ve got another type of yin and yang going on: there’s an uncomfortable air in this house where the empathy that Gayle and I have for our son is mixed with the selfish thought of “Not me, please not me!” This won’t stop me from rubbing his back, his hair, or washing his face after he throws up. But it does mean that I’m living the Vida OCD-a. It’s not even 11:00am, and I’ve washed my hands 4000 times, and had two large glassfuls of hand sanitizer. My thinking is that if I drink it, it will kill the germs inside my body.*
*Don’t do that. Seriously. Don’t. JOKE ALERT!