It started about 8pm friday night, when, after a shower, Miss G was complaining of a belly ache.
Sitting on the edge of the bed getting into her PJ's, she had that look, you know the one, and I had to decide if I was going to run to grab a towel and probably miss it anyway, or just stay there, hold her hair and calm her while she projectile vomited across her bedroom floor.
I did the later.
It was the exorcist, minus the green and head spinning.
And when I say "across her bedroom floor", I mean the pile of pillows, stuffed toys, 2 pillow pets, and the dog.
When she finished, she surveyed her work, took a deep sigh and announced "I feel much better".
Until she did it again at 10.30pm, and again at 11pm.
By 12am, I had both girls in my bed, Miss G had it coming out of one end, Miss O the other.
It all settled not long after, until, of course, I woke at 2.40am feeling that unmistakable cramp in my belly.
I sipped some water, I rubbed my stomach, then ran like the wind with bucket in hand, and gave my sacrifice to the porcelain throne.
It just. didn't. stop.
By 5am I was exhausted, Miss O was awake with another dirty ass, and Miss G was snoring happily.
5.30am Miss G woke ready to start her day, of course she was fucking fine, bright eyed and bushy tailed, asking for toast and Kindy Gym. I was on the toilet again.
5.40am, I, the 29 year old mum of 2, was on the phone to my mummy, in tears, calling in an SOS.
My mum lives 2 hours away, she also has a life, I have 2 younger siblings, mum has her own health issues, etc. Yet, she worked stuff out to be here asap, which was still 4 hours away.
I can do this, I thought, I can totally vomit, shit, cry and look after 2 kids with no sleep! Hell yes!
I'll admit, I handed Miss G a lunch box with tiny teddies, and sultanas in it, and my ipad, and Miss O and I went back to sleep.
I managed an hour.
The rest of the time was a blur.
9.30am I was done, how the fuck I made it till then I have no idea, I was seeing stars when I vomited. My whole body convulsed, the vomiting was so violent that nothing was safe, I was sitting on a folded towel for a reason.
I called my best mate, woke her up, Saturday mornings are kid free for her, yet she rolled out of bed, and was here within half an hour.
The girls were in safe hands, so my bucket, towel ass and I, we curled up in the fetal position, and cried with self pity till sleep came.
Being the woman she is, my mate couldn't just come watch the girls, no, she had to tidy my house, load the dishwasher and do the laundry, including the pile of aforementioned vomit items.
She was a life saver, everyone needs a friend like her in their life!!
I think I may have passed out at some point, I don't remember anything, but my bucket didn't fill itself with bile!
I woke when I heard my mums voice. I felt like I was 5 years old again and mummy was here to save me.
She forced me to eat and drink, she took care of my babies, and I saw the side of my mum that I think we, as adults, tend to forget. That kind, patient, nurturing side that takes a back seat when their own kids grow up and get the know-it-all grown up attitude.
I can't describe it, but listening to them playing and giggling, it didn't stop the shits, but it did make me smile!
I finally stopped Sunday afternoon. I'm glad I got the worst of it, if either of the girls had been as bad, it would have been a hospital trip, a messy, smelly hospital trip.
My body still aches from the vomiting, and I'm slowly catching up on the rest of the washing, and my eternal thanks to my life savers!!!
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