Dirty Laundry everywhere. Haven’t been able to keep up. Jack and Fiona, diaper blow outs, four days, change their cloths. Hate the piles everywhere. Wash, Fold, Put Away, Sort, Give Away, Buy, Too Big, Too Small, Too Much, Too Many. Little Tikes, V-Tech. Balls and Bottles. On the floor, cheerios, banana, drops of milk, crust of sweet potatoes, the dirty tray with burnt sweet potato, more dishes in the sink. Time to purge. The kitchen counter is grimy, it makes me irritated. A housewife has a right to vent. “How can I make you happy?” My Mantra. As they whine now, “What in the world is wrong with you guys?” I say. “What, I don’t understand?” Ok, it is the plastic container of Mentos Jack got, Fiona wants. Take it away from both babies, both cry, both get over it. They need a few cuddles, now they are playing. Sun shining, a beautiful Sunday. Not scared of getting sick anymore, time to get out of here. Time to go on some adventures, Three bandits. The Bandits don’t want me to write today. Plop, cry. The dead giveaway of a fake fall.
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Astrovirus, is that what we got? Maybe. My stomach still hurts, but I need to eat. The babies and Alan are asleep, 6:00 A.M., still dark. Jack and Fiona get sick first. Since Wednesday it’s been a stinky wet diarrhea, throw up, cycles of laundry on sanitary, rubbing backs and changing dirty Pajamas. Thursday night I got sick and so did Alan. I woke up in the middle of the night with terrible stomach pains. I won’t go into detail about the following events. I’ll just say Benghan Bhartha. I decide to check on Jack and Fiona. I walk into the hallway and smell that awful smell. The night before, 10PM, I asked Alan “Did you fart?” He said no. I said “I’m serious, did you fart?” “NO” he said. I needed to check the babies, and yes Diaper Blow Outs! I smell the same smell again, 3 Am. I just threw up myself. The smell is hard to handle. I take Fiona up first, she’s miserable. I change her diaper and PJ’S. Next Jack, he’s soaking wet, the diarrhea, everywhere. I feel like I’m going to puke again. I manage to get off all his clothes and give him a bath. I try to put on his diaper and PJ’s but I really feel like I’m gonna puke. I call for Daddy to help. This is not a good situation. I can handle caretaking of the sick household, I’m actually a pro at handling baby puke now. The first time I wasn’t that great. I was freaked out, but this time it’s like I’m a trained professional. But when I found myself sick too I felt frightened. How will I take care of the babies? I have no one to lean on. I started thinking about people who lived during the Spanish Flu, did babies just die in their cribs while their parents were immobilized from sickness? Yesterday I had to get up, feeling weak, a pounding head ache, make the bottles, clean up throw up, change diarrhea diapers, give love and support to Jack and Fiona because they felt awful. Alan is sick too so I need to have compassion for him as well and he can’t help me with the babies. There is no one to take care of me. I am at the top of the care giving ladder now. They all look to me for health, love, cuddling, food, comfort. I don’t have a mom or grandparents. I’m the wise old woman at the top of the mountain. Luckily I’m feeling better today. It’s supposed to be Alan’s morning with the babies, my “sleep in” morning, but I was awake so I’m letting him sleep in. He had to work all day yesterday through the sickness so he really does need a “sick day.” I’m strong. I just went down and retrieved my little angels. Jack had a bit of diarrhea but both babies are feeling better and starving! Time for bottles.
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This is a GOOD use of my time!
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 