Up-Chuck and first world problems.

Whoowhee.  We’ve had an interesting couple of days around here.  Faintly reminiscent of the adventure we had with X-man after Sylvie was born.

 

We are having some construction work done on our house right now – so the girls and I have done our best to just steer clear and utilize every free kid friendly destination around. 

Yesterday we had successfully avoided our house from 8:30 in the morning until 3:00 in the afternoon, and we were spent.  We went home to brave the banging and clanking, sequestered to Bella’s room to stay out of the way. 

 

Of course we never quite made it so far as Bella’s room.

 

We pulled in the driveway and the girls unbuckled.  From the backseat I hear Bella say, “Maggie, my belly doesn’t feel good.”

I’ll take a moment here to say that this happens very frequently.  Anything that could possibly provoke a little anxiety in her, ends up with her lunch on the floor.  I think a lot of it is just the chronic stress she’s been under for months paired with her illness. 

I turned around in my seat to talk her through it – Take deep breaths, lets talk about what you’re nervous about, let’s make. it. to. the. bathroom.  But it was too late, moments later she is in between the captains chairs in back regurgitating her entire lunch

all.   over.  the.  van.

 

I took a deep breath – but not too deep, because we all know that smell, and worked to get the girls out of the care amid the grossness.

We got out, got coats off (dropped them on the ground outside the car) and got inside.  I had Bella go straight to the bathroom and take all her pukey clothes off for a bath.  I got the other two girls situated and got to the bathroom, pulled out the faucet to run a bath, and …  nothing.

The water was off.

 

So now I have a car full of puke, a daughter covered in puke, a house full of construction workers, NO WATER, and, oh yeah, no washer and dryer.

Where to go from here?

 

I wiped her down the best I could with wet wipes.  Thank goodness, we have some good friends who live down the street, so we headed over there for a bath.

I couldn’t leave the girls in the house while I cleaned out the van.  My house is full of construction workers who don’t  even speak English.  So, Brian ended up driving home and watching the girls while I scraped puke out of the crevices of my van. 

We hadn’t cleaned out the car since our road trip, so we had puke on no less than three coats, a baby carrier, six books, a blanket, a wipes container, two pairs of shoes, two of the car seats, the carpet, and the front console. 

It was epic.

 

Now we just have two huge trashbags of stuff waiting to be cleaned when we have a washer and drier again.  This timeline is TBD.  Our van is being professionally cleaned right now – because NO amount of resolve was going to get that smell out.

 

Count it all joy.

Count it all joy.

Count it all joy.