April 11, 2008

Last night the Adventurer got sick. Really sick. I’ve never in my life seen projectile vomiting that could put out a fire, but had there been a fire on the couch, and curtains, and floor, and stuffed animals, and books, he would have put them all out. Instead, it just resulted in a really bad case of viral-contamination, which lead to 4 gigantic loads of laundry, and a whole lot of scrubbing. I think if I mop another 3 times, I should be able to get out the rest of the vomit smell. Nothing like the aroma of pin-sol, bleach, and vomit. Mmmm, good times.

Anyway, I couldn’t help but be really grateful for two things: Bleach, and a washing machine (and a dryer, because when that thing goes out, it looks like my decorating style is “clothes line”). All I could think was how gross it would be to have to put all the contaminated things in a plastic bag to brew until I could make it to the laundromat, and then there would be the treat of retracting them from said bags.

Bleach is kinda self explanatory, but it did remind me of when the Captain got sick all over the hotel room in Pheonix, and B had to go to Walgreens in the middle of the night to buy bleach and other-such cleaners, and got accosted by a bum.

Without those things in stock, I could see my trip to Walmart now: the cashier would take one look at me and think, “hmm, sick kid, or she just off-ed her man, and needs to do some cover up work.” Followed up be the thought, “If it’s a sick kid, he’s the sweetest man ever for staying home while she ran out for supplies, but if it’s a whack job, the pregnancy sure will come in handy for a insanity-defense.”

Which brings me to my ultimate point: Pregnant women should get a free pass, I’m not sure where too, but a free one none-the-less. Because insanity is a real part of this whole journey (as is clearly demonstrated in this post), and it is only intensified once the little one makes his or her appearance, and continues until Jr. starts sleeping at night. Once that happens, the sun is brighter, the birds sing prettier, people are kinder, suddenly you love each other again, and the whole world seems to be rejoicing with you.

Which makes me wonder if there is a huge profit to be had in “Night Care.” A wonderful facility that lets you drop off your newborn at about 7 pm, and pick them up at about 7 am, until they get your baby on a sleeping-through the night (or close to it) schedule. Can you imagine what kind of money new parents would pay for “Just ONE good night of sleep!” I bet it would cut back on postpartum depression too. Hmm, maybe I’ll start one next spring, once I’m sleeping through the night again.

Salud! H