The Weekend

When Laura and I found out we were pregnant, we received countless amounts of advice, tips, heads-ups and got a parent manual to help. NOTHING...I mean NOTHING from any of you people prepared us for this past weekend.

Background...last weekend I was on a JH retreat. On the way to our retreat center I hear one of the boys calling my name. Then the entire bus of JH boys and girls called me. I went to the back of the bus to find out that one of our boys stuck his head out of one of the windows and blew chunks. Nice image huh? I said, "Why didn't you tell me you were feeling bad, I would have gotten you a trash bag."

His reply, "No big deal. I stuck my head out as far as I could."

Nice...instead of just being sick we could have lost the boys head which would be harder to explain to the Dad. Though, I am thankful he thought that quickly to let it go outside on the side of the bus rather than inside the bus. That could have been disastrous.

Anyways, this young man was sick. He stayed sick and finally we made the call that he needed to go home after a night of continual sickness into the trashcan. You want to come on a JH Retreat don't you?

Well, I get sick. I went to bed Sunday night felling fine. Woke up at 2am not feeling fine. Monday was bad. Tuesday was not much better. Guess what? Laura got it! She got sick Wednesday. Better Thursday and sick again Friday.

So...Friday Reese and I are feeling fine. I decide that we'll go run some errands and let Mom have the house to rest for a couple of hours. I dress Reese. I load Reese. I get gas in the car. I get on the highway. I hear this sound: "blaaaahaaahaahaaaa"

"Reese? What you doing back there?"

I smell this: grossness.

"Ah man! Reese....you ok?"

I find the nearest exit and make a u-turn home. I call Laura and tell her, "I'm bringing home a sick baby. It's bad. Get the sink ready!"

I hear this: "blaaaaaahaaaaahahaaaaa"

"Again? Try to keep it in your car seat. You ok?"

Now this is one of those moments that I was never prepared for and it would have been nice to have gotten a heads up:

I open the back door to find my daughter covered in her throw up. I also find the back seat covered. My poor little girl looks up at me with the saddest face that slowly turns into a smile of joy to see me. Problem #1 is the fact that the buckles are covered. How do you get a baby out of the car seat when you don't want to touch the buckles? Answer: You don't. Solution: get your hands dirty...I mean dirty. Problem #2 is how do you not get any of this on your Texas Rangers jacket? Answer: Carefully. Problem #3 is how do you carry a child that is literally covered in her own liquid? Answer: like you do any other time. Reese wanted to cuddle and hug me on the way in. I think she was traumatized.

The next 20 minutes were something that was left out of the parent manual too:

I'm de-robbing Reese in the sink. My hands are covered in the baby food eaten an hour earlier. Reese begins to play with dishes. I begin to gag. I get the clothes off of her and Laura takes her to wipe her down re-dress her. You guessed it...more! We give her some water. Yeap. More! The kitchen, the hallway, the living room, the front of Laura. Didn't matter. Those 20 minutes were "Throw Up 2008 with your host Reese Olivia."

You want feel helpless? Have your 11 month old daughter puke all over the house then just lay helpless in your arms the rest of the day. Reese, who never just lays in your arms. Reese, who can't stay still for more than 2 seconds was just helpless and lifeless. Laura and I were too. The night was much better when she finally got to sleep. The next day was another roller coaster.

Our living room is a mess. We've done countless loads of laundry. I've cleaned the back seat of the car. The car seat was hosed down. Oh, and we've thrown out that parent manual and any tips that were once given to us.