Matthew now calls himself (and I quote): “A puke expert.” I didn’t even know that he knew that word. Expert, that is; I knew that he was well aware of puke. Mike and I were on an Engaged Encounter retreat this week – there were two of us presenting teams, 35 engaged couples and one awesome priest. (Seriously one of the coolest priests I’ve ever met). The weekend went great – as they pretty much always do. However, by the end of Sunday afternoon, Mike was really not feeling well. We arrived home at 5:30 and he went straight to bed – coat still on. He had a fever and chills. Matthew spent the weekend with our friends Jason and Rebecca and was on his way home. Jason called to say that Rebecca had called to say that Matthew had just thrown up all over himself in their car. Now, vomit is bad, but someone else’s kid’s vomit? Even worse. I felt awful. Then my mom and dad called to say that despite not having napped, they were going to risk taking Zach to church with them and it would be past his bedtime by the time he got home. Oh, and by this point Zachary had little green snot rockets shooting out his nose (my words – taken from my friend Megan, not my parents’).
I managed to get Matthew cleaned up and bathed before Zach got home. Matthew wanted to see Daddy, so I told him that we could just quietly go in and say hi but that Daddy wasn’t feeling very well either. Matthew climbed up on the bed and put his hand on Mike’s arm and in a quiet sing-songy voice said, “Michael? Miiiicccchhhhaaaaeeellll. Mike. Michael, are you not well?”
Matthew and I had some quality Lego and John Deere playtime before Zachary arrived. Mom and Dad used the Drop and Run technique – their preferred method by the end of the weekend. The first thing that Matthew said was, “No, Grandma! May you please take Zachy back?” But somehow, absence did make the heart grow fonder and for the first time EVER Matthew shared his John Deeres and Legos with his little brother! It was a miracle and very touching. And it hasn’t happened since.
I got the boys all tucked in, I talked Mike into getting up and at least taking off his coat and taking his contacts out, and then I collapsed into bed…only to wake up an hour later to the sounds of Matthew yelling – he was vomiting all over himself, the bed, the floor. I did laundry and disinfected the house and washed my hands nonstop until about midnight when I collapsed into bed again…only to wake up an hour later to the sounds of Zachary yelling – he was shooting snot rockets out of his nostrils and needed assistance. I think that after that I did sleep until about 5am when Zach had me up again for snot-wiping duty. Mike slept through the night – undisturbed by any of our broo-ha-ha – and was much improved the next morning. The fever and chills had passed and all that remained was that flu ache-y, muscle soreness. With Thanksgiving next week, I’ve already been practicing my thankfulness – I’m thankful that I haven’t gotten sick (and it appears that each of the three Martin boys had a different nasty Bug), and I’m so thankful that I’m not a single mother – that was a LONG night.