This is why there are supposed to be two parents, Part II

Stomach virus has hit our house in a big way. As I mentioned the other day, my mom made an extremely well-timed visit yesterday. Jake has had explosive diapers for the past few days. Last night I got sick, and today Rachel got sick.

My mom pointed out that she can do diapers all day, but when Rachel got sick at the dinner table tonight, she said "Um...that's all you." I know. That's why there are supposed to be two parents. One parent can typically handle one gross thing, while the other can handle something different. Unfortunately my mom and I both have a serious aversion to throw-up.

So now it's time for me to tell you about how as a baby, Rachel only threw up on me.
-Jim went out of town, she threw up. On me. Every time.
-He would just get done holding her, she'd come over to me and throw up.
-When we moved here she looked at me and said "I don't feel right..." and threw up all over me and her bed.
-One time we were at Target, and she was looking at me kind of funny while sitting in the cart. I said, "are you okay?" and foolishly picked her up - she barfed all over me. The funny part of that was that I sent Jim to get help and some paper towels and he came back, 10 minutes later, sweaty, with nothing.
K:Where are the paper towels?
J:I can't find the paper towel aisle.

K: For heaven's sake, Jim, go to the bathroom and get some.
J: Well, where do you think the bathrooms are? I'm not sure I can find paper towels.
In the meantime I'm standing there, holding Rachel, and we're both dripping with throw-up. Sometimes Jim didn't react really well in a minor emergency. You'd think that his cool, engineering side would take over and he'd leap into action, but...that's really not what happened.

Jim was the who could handle throw-up. It's just not my thing. Give me a full diaper any day. So even though I don't care for that duty, I'm used to it now. My mom was kind of upset that she couldn't help me but I just laughed - she's been helping me all day. She took care of Jake this afternoon while I took a luxurious 3 hour nap. (Well, it was partly recovery from last night's illness.) She bathed Rachel while I cleaned up down here. And she got Jake ready for bed and changed Rachel after Rachel got sick a second time. At least the second time Rachel went for the bucket. That's not to say that she made it there, but she did try.

Throw-up is a sensitive issue at our house. Since Jim's diagnosis, any sickness is not taken lightly. I'm such a hypochondriac that when I got sick last night I fleetingly wondered if there was something really wrong. When Rachel complained today of stomach pain, I wondered if someone else at school had been sick - after all, she does take after me in a number of ways - being a hypochondriac wouldn't be out of the question. But I also take any health complaint from her very seriously. Since Jim's diagnosis, throw-up has taken on a new meaning for me. He hated to get sick.

HOLD THE PHONE. RACHEL JUST THREW UP ON ME.

YOU CAN'T MAKE THIS STUFF UP.

I completed the last paragraph at 8:20, and decided to take Rachel upstairs, as she'd fallen asleep on the couch. We made it all the way upstairs, right outside Rachel's bathroom, and...yuck. At least it was on the hardwoods and tile. So here I am, 9:00, the hallway and bathroom freshly scrubbed, me freshly scrubbed, and I'm done with this blog for the night.

They say the first year is the toughest. At least we're done with the first quarter.