There’s nothing nicer than snuggling up in bed, curled around your little one while he suckles away and snoozes; snoring gently. It’s that nice time of night when he’s woken up in his cot for a feed but you know you’ve still got a good five hours of sleep before the alarm goes off so you bring him into your bed so you can both snooze during this mammoth night feed. You might take him back and tuck him up in his own bed, you might not. You relax and snuggle closer, running your fingers through his curls.Hang on, those curls are damp. You feel again; Yep, still damp. Not all over though, just at the front and round his ear. You feel again, he’s dozing and reaches up to pull your fingers away from his ears, your fingers grasp something small and soggy.
Your heart sinks as your nose detects that feint, sweet and sour scent of vomit as your fingertips feel out yet another soggy chunk.
You snap the bedside light on, your mind already three steps ahead, thinking about what needs washing, where the old towels are and wondering if he will need a bath or if a wash down with a damp flannel will suffice.
Yep, there’s nothing nicer than snuggling up in bed, curled around your little one to find that he’s actually covered head to toe in vomit which you didn’t notice in your sleep deprived zombi like state because it’s 1am and he’s already been up three times.
I know what you’re thinking; ‘how did you not know he had been sick?’
I have a simple answer for that; I don’t have sicky kids. Little Monkey and Little Panda maybe able to shit for England but they rarely vomit. Such is the rarity of such an occasion I can clearly remember the last time Little Monkey was sick. It was a boiling hot day during the heat wave of July 2014. He was 2 and had been given antibiotics for a chest infection, the medicine tasted nasty though and he vomited up his dose along with the contents of his stomach all over the kitchen.
All. Over. The. Kitchen.
Which would have been fine except I was heavily pregnant with Little Panda and even the smell of something yucky had me hurling my guts up too. I’m sure in some parenting manual somewhere it says ‘thou shalt not leave thy child covered in vomit to go and throw up’ so I threw up in the kitchen sink, several times.
Anyway, my point is my kids aren’t sicky and when they do it’s pretty silent apart from a little cough to make sure all the chunks are up, so when it does happen it’s the end of the world. Panda did cope with it well but when the inevitable happened and Little Monkey caught the bug he was devastated and proved this by incessantly whining about it.
Of course the night the sick happened The Husband was at work. Little Monkey had painted the bathroom in vom and Little Panda had the runs. I can confidently say I burned at least three million calories running up and down stairs between the two of them, washing towels, sponging strawberry and pasta vom out of the carpet and changing nappies. All settled around 8.30pm when Panda was dozing on the couch and Monkey was sitting in bed.
“How do you feel now?”
Sick bowl firmly grasped, towels covering every available surface and a burning temperature he gazed at me with his big blue eyes and said, sadly “I feel like nonsense.”
I think that just about sums it up. Being poorly is rubbish, Little Monkey was both hungry and queasy at the same time, he wanted to drink his water but every time he did it came back up. For him it was one of those nights which just seemed to last for an eternity.
You probably read this hoping for some top tips on how to deal with copious amounts of vomit and a sick child but I haven’t actually got any other than this;
Hold your nose, breathe through your mouth and light some nice candles to disguise the smell.