Christmas 2017: a lot more barf than I imagined

Well we survived it. I might have high-fived it... on its way out the door. That was a doozy. We surprised the kids with a visit from our friends from Minnesota. But before that I surprised the kids with a lot of cleaning because HOLY MOLY WE LIVE IN FILTH. Mostly because no one ever remembers to flush the toilet but also maybe because I can't stay caught up on laundry to save my life. So we cleaned and then our friends arrived. We played and played and played.

Hank snuggled Monica like he's never snuggled me!

Will caught Beau up on the latest happenings since we last saw each other in MN

We got everyone fed, bathed, and in bed. No small feat when there are 8 children and only two adults. That night though, things started to go downhill. Monica's oldest son was complaining of a tummy ache. He stood up from the sofa and started barfing. I instinctively grabbed a bag and ran towards it. (They say that's when you know you're a mom- when you run towards the barf instead of away from it. Almost like a firefighter runs towards the flames, police run towards the danger, soldiers run towards the battle. Like that but just way less heroic. The only thing at stake here was my carpet. So, still important to me obviously.) Anyways, as he's barfing (and hitting my arms more than the bag), I see a giant SPIDER out of the corner of my eye. I yell for Monica's nephew (12yo) to kill it. Except 12yo's are very literal and I didn't want him to smash it with his hand and possibly get bit. So I told him to kill it! But with a diaper! Or something! Anything! He threw the diaper at it. I seriously just started laughing. Covered in puke and now a killer spider is loose in my house. Merry Christmas. Can I tap out now? But just you wait, there was more fun to be had. A lot more fun. And when I say fun I think you all know by now that I mean barf.

Since our entire street has had this stomach bug for a hot minute now, we knew it would be a 12-24 hour deal. Luckily it was closer to 12 and everyone was playing nicely and vom-free the next day. We kept most of the activities outside since I feel better about fresh air and germs mixing.

Monica's truck proved to be a very effective, very expensive play pen

Watching a Christmas movie with Willie and his little crossed legs kill me

We had some really nice weather while they were in town, and one day we even let the kids go barefoot. They literally played outside all day long, and they all mixed well with the neighbor friends too. It was like a big ol' block party outside every day.

I tell you what, feeding eight children has completely turned me off to having eight children. Not that I was ever really considering it but holy cow. #1 we'd be completely broke. #2 that is a lot of work. #3 that is an impressive mess three times a day.

Molly has been d-y-i-n-gggggggg for the neighbor down the street to come over and bake Christmas cookies with her. Well the stars finally aligned and they made some sugar cookies. No one was more disappointed than Molly to learn that the dough has to harden for a few hours, but in the meantime they made a loaf of banana bread. And it was instantly devoured upon its exit from the oven.

So it turns out my oven cooks very unevenly

my little babushka

At some point, it started getting chilly. Of course, anything below 65* and we are all complaining of the cold, so I can't remember when we all started worrying about our impending frostbite, but it was probably premature. It didn't even seem to help when Monica's neighbors would text her weather updates from MN. "-34*? Shoot, it's 56* here but I swear it feels colder than MN."

All of these pictures are probably out of order. We pretty much did the same thing all week- make a crap ton of food, disperse food to hungry natives, throw clothes at children, shoo them outside, hours of playtime, inside for more food, prison baths, bed. Those kids played so hard and slept so well.

Rick arrived the night of the 23rd and was greeted with much enthusiasm.

Christmas Eve mood

Around 4am on Christmas Eve, I heard Molly bumping around in the hallway and finally came into my room. I was crossing my fingers and toes she was about to tell me just had a bad dream..... but instead, she had barfed all over her bedroom door and carpet. Lovely. We cleaned up the carpet and Molly and got her situated on the floor in the room with Hank and me. She threw up randomly for the rest of the morning. When I opened the bedroom door at 6, I was staring at Sam on the toilet (because why shut the door amiright) and he clutched his belly and said, "ohhhh I have diarrhea." Yayyyyyyy

He's like me and you can basically mind trick him into never throwing up, so luckily his illness began and ended with the diarrhea. Will "slept in" that morning (and by slept in I mean I sorta forgot about him and suddenly realized it was 8am and we were missing someone). I was terrified as to what I'd find behind his bedroom door. Surely it wouldn't hit all my children at once.... But surely it did. Will had not only puked at some point in the night, but he'd rolled over and gone back to sleep in it. (Molly used to do the same thing. Be right back, gagging at the memory.) AND he pooped! So that was a fun morning. I showered him and then started in on the cleanup and sanitizing process. I was suddenly grateful that we had fed the kids corndogs the night before and not tomato soup, like we originally planned. Cleanup would have looked a lot different. Luckily it seemed to be a one and done sort of thing. Will acted like nothing had ever happened and literally ate from the moment he got out of the shower until he went to bed. Molly lazed on the couch but I don't think that was so much her feeling bad as it was her milking the situation to watch tv. Whatever. The rest of us were outside and it was nice to not have to deal with that every 24 seconds.

So the worst had passed! Yay! We were done with the sickness. Until Rick came downstairs Christmas morning and told me that Monica had been up puking all night. Luckily she's a champ and the show went on, even though I'm sure she would have much rather been in bed all day sleeping it off!

Christmas breakfast (or snack, according to how you look at it)

I actually facetimed Steve while the kids were opening presents, so I don't have pictures of any of it. But they loved their new things, and they loved their friends' new things too, as evidenced by Will claiming most (if not all) of Beau's new cars.

We turned the kids loose outside after that because the neighbors were already out playing with their toys, and Santa was easily 10x more generous there than at our house. We also focused solely on outdoor toys this year since Louisiana livin' allows us to live outside 90% of the year. Thankfully our neighbors did too and got some fun stuff! (Like that roller coaster- Will is obsessed! Terrified me the first time he went down and hit that curb, but he loved it!!!)

Also not our toys

This one's mine

Hard at work on the new art set

We had minimal injuries Christmas Day, which was pretty much miraculous. Our neighbors got some of those bubble suits that you run into each other with, and between the crusty old mailboxes and the random (nonworking) light pole in the grassy area of our circle, I was almost certain we'd have to make at least one run to the ER. The worst to happen was Sam's chin made contact with the neighbor's tooth. Slight mark and bruising but nothing serious. We stayed outside all. day. long. We even skipped lunch. Will skipped his nap. It was insane. Around 2:30 I thought, oh haha I will go make some dip to bring out, and while I'm in there I guess I'll check and see how long I need to cook the ham for. It's been a few years since I've made one. Well the correct answer was RIGHTTHISSECOND so I ended up not going back outside and stayed in the kitchen to cook for the rest of the day.

Cooking would have not been remotely possible without all the extra hands to hold babies and referee big kids.

Oh my baby's first Christmas! Time, slow down! What's even scarier is that he is wearing the outfit Will wore last Christmas! (Size 18 months was only slightly baggy on him...) As happy as he looks, he noticed that I neglected to hold him myself the majority of the day and punished me that night. I remember stupidly thinking, wouldn't it be nice if he slept til 3:30 in the morning? Then I could get a solid 4-5 hours. But then ten minutes after I crawled into bed he coughed and woke himself up and ended up being awake UNTIL 3:30 in the morning, so joke's on me. I'll never wish for anything like sleep ever again.

This is what 7 years of no sleep looks like, folks. And my Christmas day sunburn.

Christmas Day was Will's last day of being 1. It snuck up on me so fast. I was still telling people he was "18 months"! (To be fair, I can't keep track and basically say "18 months" the day after they turn 1 until the day they turn 2. I like to ballpark it.) I seriously (SERIOUSLY) debated holding off on celebrating his birthday on another day. I was so tired. SO TIRED. But as I was showering that night, I realized that mothering is MY JOB and even though society tells us that the holidays are for "slowing down" and "vacation", it's like the Super Bowl in my line of work. So much cooking and cleaning and activities and laundry and celebrations and god forbid we don't make some mutherfuggin gingerbread houses and throw a birthday in there too (in addition to Baby J's birthday, of course) and it's pure madness. I did not want to skip one of my children's birthdays. Or postpone it. I needed to just suck it up and DO IT. So I finished showering and went and laid everything out for the traditional birthday waffle stack the next morning. Changed out the Merry Christmas banner to the Happy Birthday banner. Dug out the #2 candle I miraculously remembered to buy a week or two prior. Looked around at the destruction and called it a night.

Worth it. (It always is.)

It was super rainy and freezing cold that morning, and our friends were headed onto greener pastures. Or at least warmer temperatures. Florida, specifically. So we said see ya later, and stayed in our pj's all day. We watched Thomas and opened a few gifts, made a cake, and had hotdogs for dinner.

Oh my goodness this handsome devil

We changed into fresh pj's before heading to bed. And I attempted one more picture of my newly minted two year old.

He was too far gone with his choo choos though and couldn't be bothered. I love that boy so much I could burst.

After getting the kids in bed, I reheated some of the Christmas dinner leftovers and instantly regretted it all. Then I went to bed and prayed Hank would let me sleep a few hours. Then suddenly, at 1am, I woke up. Not to a crying baby. But to a gurgling stomach. And the only thing I could see in my mind was someone turning ham with a spoon. And let me tell you, when your stomach has ham in it, and it's gurgling, the last thing you want to do is picture more ham. And for it to be moving. Sadly, despite disinfecting everything in between making a cake and catching up on laundry and birthday fun, I contracted the dreaded stomach bug. I sat in the bathroom and attempted to talk myself out of throwing up. I can't. I hate it so much. There is no one here to rub my back. Or take care of the kids. Or listen to me whine. But then I threw up anyway. Hank was screaming by that point. I cleaned myself up and mixed a bottle. I can sleep when I'm dead, right?

Week three - stick a fork in me

Normally, when Steve is away for Army-related duties, things start out kinda rocky. Like I can almost always expect someone to throw up or get injured doing something seemingly normal. But then it evens out and we find our groove and while we still miss him and feel the void, we are not army-crawling along Lt Dan-style trying to just BARELY SURVIVE. But week three was a lot of that- barely surviving. We had our high points too, but good lord I am ready for the high points to vastly outnumber the amount of times I want to lock myself in the bathroom with a tub of peanut butter. (For the record, we are about 40% through our last tub of peanut butter right now. I will admit that I am pretty much the only person in the house that eats the peanut butter but that fact is irrelevant. I am so optimistic that this timeline will somehow pull through that I did not purchase anymore peanut butter the last time I was at Costco. If you know me and the way I like to never be without peanut butter, this speaks volumes.)

Luckily for y'all, my memory is absolutely terrible and if I don't take a picture, then it never happened, and also, I don't tend to take pictures of the times my kid blew out his diaper or tossed all his meatballs on the floor, so we might be in for more highlights than lowlights here, judging by the photos.

Last Sunday afternoon, we headed out to Rick and Monica's house to check out Rick's new toy.

This was exciting in and of itself, but what he attached to it really got the kids going.

Just good, clean fun.

And a little target practice.

Don't worry, they didn't actually shoot them; they were too busy playing with the snakes to worry with guns.

Monday morning came and the big kids were off to school. Hallelujah, praise the Lord. Time to relax.

Just kidding, I had an OB appointment in Fargo.

I chased Will all over the waiting room before realizing that he had poop creeping up his back. Luckily doctors are never on time, so we had plenty of time to change that and wait some more before being called back! It was a quick visit, nothing out of the ordinary. I haven't been to my last two appointments and thought maybe I was missing something. Kinda felt guilty. Besides a TDAP shot, I wasn't missing anything apparently. I am told the appointments are now once every two weeks but I just have this crazy feeling that I won't be attending all of that.

Willie and I stopped for a Subway picnic car lunch on the way home while we watched traffic and looked at tractors.

The big kids arrived home too soon after we did.

Tuesday morning, Sam complained that his stomach hurt. I asked him if he needed to stay home from school or if he was just tired? We had been vom-free for well over a day so I assumed he was just hungry for breakfast. About midway through the morning, we heard the house phone ring, a sound that absolutely makes my stomach drop down to my toes. The only real calls we ever get on that phone are from the school. And sure enough, it was the secretary. Sam had puked. Loaded everyone up and drove to school to grab Sam. He seemed very NOT sick as he skipped out of the office and even the secretary remarked that he seemed completely better! ("Yes! He does! And since he has such good trash can aim, can I just leave him here?") <-- kidding (sort of)

He came home and displayed absolutely zero signs of sickness. At one point the house was eerily quiet and I went into the living room where he had previously been playing cars with Will, only to find Will alone. Sam was outside in his pajamas and tennis shoes, chasing Molly around the house. Heavenly healed.

The next morning, his divine healing had been reversed and he was back to throwing up again. But it was a Wednesday, so tiny Molly walked herself to the bus stop, looking extra tiny all by herself.

I forced Sam to lie in bed all day, sick or not. YOU MUST GO BACK TO SCHOOL.  We had a crazy thunderstorm that afternoon, accompanied by hail!

Naturally it woke Will up from his nap. We had to run to the bus stop to rescue Molly, who came back from school looking a little different than when she left.

those were the days

We ended up having meatballs for dinner that night, a decision I always regret on a night that I was not previously planning on giving baths. Meatballs and yogurt make that inevitable though.

I do recall bath and bedtime Wednesday evening being a COMPLETE cluster. I bathed Will first (for obvious reasons) and after he was dried and pajama'd, I started in on Molly. She takes forever in the shower thanks to all that gorgeous hair, and Sam was playing with Will. All of a sudden, as I'm rinsing Molly off, I hear Sam yell that Will is crawling through and playing with some of the dinner that he had tossed on the floor, specifically meatballs and yogurt. FML. But everyone was finally cleaned and teeth brushed and put to bed. Then I pretty much just collapsed until I fell asleep.

Thursday morning came and everyone was feeling 100%! YES! YAY! Sam even picked out his own outfit..

"These stars are there because I'm a soccer star." Exactly.

Will and I went walking with a friend and her kids before heading home to feed him lunch and nap. The big kids were home sooner after Will woke from his nap and we headed to the taco truck.

My kids aren't big taco eaters, so we just opted for an elephant ear.

Holy freaking yum

We all split one and still felt a little sick from all the sugar (but oh man it was delicious). After that, we walked on over to Monica's old house to bounce the sugar out on their trampoline. (They met us at the taco truck and came with.) Will waddled his way through a lot of mud and earned himself another bath. And since another bath was in his future, I went ahead and gave him meatballs and yogurt again for dinner. Why the hell not, right?

On Fridays, Molly doesn't have school, so we got Sam off to school and then headed down to Fargo for a few groceries and Carters. We stopped for lunch at Subway.

"Ham and cheeeeeeeese"

Can house a 6 inch sandwich like a boss, with room to spare for goldfish and applesauce

Then it was off to Target for refrigerated items (more yogurt MY GOD)

Will proceeded to give everyone in the store some version of this stink face.

We came home and attempted to go back over to the trampoline for more after school jumping. This involved waking Will up from his nap so he'd sleep later at bedtime (horrific) and changing his diaper before loading everyone up in the stroller and walking across town. When I got the stroller ready, I came back in to grab Will and thought, "whew, I gotta throw out that diaper trash! This warmer weather really makes it stink more than usual." (When I chuck diaper trash, it consists of tossing a Target bag of poop onto the front steps until I have time to take it around to the actual garbage can.) Once I got Will out of the stroller to put him inside the trampoline, I realized that the smell had followed us across town..... because Will had apparently waited until 40 seconds after I changed him into a fresh diaper to take a dump. Must have done it while I was outside getting the stroller out and ready. BECAUSE OF COURSE. He bounced nicely for about 10-15 minutes before he probably got nauseous from the stink and lost his mind. Sam and Molly were arguing about the stupidest things and I was sick of playing referee so I called it.

We walked all the way back home and I cooked dinner. We facetimed with Steve at dinner and then the weather was so nice that we all went back outside afterwards. Will was surveying the perimeter of our next door neighbor's fence and as he rounded the corner, I began to chase after him. As I am maybe six feet from him, I see him lose his balance and attempt to somehow grab onto the fence on his way down. Unfortunately, this was a terrible plan, as his face and arm took the brunt of the fall. (It's an old wooden fence.)

THAT'S IT. I DECLARE THIS DAY OVER.

Sam and Molly played outside while I bathed Will and then I called them inside to get their baths.

Them: Where are your pants?
Me: I'm done with pants today. I AM DONE.
Molly: I see yo cutey booty. *pinches my butt*
Sam: I'm not gonna wear pants either. *strips*
Will: I will take this opportunity to pour all of the water over the side of the tub and onto the floor. *splash*

And that brings us to my least favorite day of my solo parenting week- Saturday.

Saturday started off with a real bang at 1:30am when Sam came in my bedroom to let me know he'd thrown up. And he just kept on going for the rest of the night. He took a break at 3, but Molly accepted his tag team request and came in to let me know she was scared. I sleepily told her there was nothing to be scared of (except for me, of course) and that she should go back to sleep. She stood there and started whimpering/whining and I tossed her a pillow and told her to join Sam on the floor if she wasn't scared of being completely uncomfortable sleeping on the floor. At some point she made her way back upstairs, only for Sam to start barfing again. I got him settled back on the floor at 4:22 (I specifically remember looking at my phone and thinking "effffffffffffffffff") and when I was just about back to sleep, good ol' Willie decided to have a hankering for a banana. Except when I gave it to him, he was irate. He took a bite, threw it at me, and then was SO MAD that I was holding his banana. I give it back to him, lather, rinse, repeat. He finally finished it and I put him back to bed. Sam woke up to barf again and I got him settled again by 6:30. Will woke up at 7:15. He had pooped the contents of his entire digestive system and his diaper had NOT been up for the challenge! Yay I wanted to wash sheets anyway. I was so glad that I had prepped the coffee pot the night before-

-until the filter folded over on itself and I ended up chewing the coffee instead of sipping it. There are just some days you don't have enough curse words for, and by 8am on Saturday, I felt like I was already out. Sam continued throwing up, I attempted to make breakfasts and do laundry and pee every 46 seconds (hello, baby!). Molly would not give up on the idea of going to see the "flower field" I had mentioned the day before (when no one was barfing), so we eventually drove over there. Sam sat in the car ("sick people must rest!") and Molly picked flowers and Will toddled around like a free-range chicken. He absolutely loves walking, but only if he gets to decide where he's going. So I tend to love fenced-in areas or wide open spaces where there are no immediate dangers and he can roam where he pleases.

showing off her bouquet and her nails to Daddy

Not one to waste a car trip, I loaded everyone back up and drove to the next town. I knew I would not be assembling any sort of meaningful dinner that night, so we hightailed it to Subway. (I know, I know. But it's the only restaurant around.) I asked Sam a few times on the way over if he felt up to eating a sandwich. Normally a huge fan of the Subway sandwich, he weakly said no. I asked him a few more times just to be sure. Then once we arrived and were standing in line, I asked again. And once again, no. So I ordered sandwiches for the rest of us and we went back home. Later, when I pulled the sandwiches out for dinner- "Oh that looks delicious. I'll have one of those please." YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW.

Everyone was bathed and brushed and in bed at a normal hour Saturday night as I just "couldn't even" anymore by that point. And everyone slept through the night. HALLELUJAH PRAISE JESUS. We took it nice and slow Sunday morning- I got to talk to my mama on the phone and she told me all about my brother's wedding the day before, the kids played somewhat nicely together, and best of all, no barf. Willie took a nice sweaty afternoon nap and then we headed out to the country to play.

There is a creek right down the hill from Monica's house and the kids wanted to try and catch some minnows. Well it looks so close until you are lugging an almost 30lb baby on your pregnant hip and descending/ascending what appears to be a straight up cliff. We finally made it down there though and the kids had a blast- racing bark "boats", throwing rocks, catching minnows, and collecting ticks all over their milky white skin.

We eventually made our way back up the mountain and zipped all the kids up in the trampoline.

Got the dirty children home, dinner, tick removal (I HATE TICKS SO MUCH OMGAH) baths, and bed.

Sam woke up in the happiest mood this morning because he wasn't sick AND he was going to school! He loves school so much. Molly takes slightly more convincing to get out of bed, but Sam's enthusiasm is contagious! He had me smiling pre-coffee this morning- a rare and glorious accomplishment! I am showing the house this evening so I've been wiping toilets and baseboards and trying to rearrange boxes so that the house looks like a house and not a staged moving zone. Still waiting on orders. Still pregnant. My optimism for a better week than the previous three is still there too. Some things don't change.