These are letters to Jack, my son, and my daughter, Audrey. You have given me the gift of motherhood. This is just a little gift back. I want to share my experiences with you of your childhood from my perspective of watching you grow - of being your Mom.

Monday, December 11, 2006

I have poop on my shirt...


I am writing this to you with poop on my shirt. I can't get over it. A big yellowish stain over my left breast like a badge of announcement to the world that MY FAMILY IS BATTLING STOMACH FLU.

As it turns out, I now don't think you have the Rota Virus - I think you have the stomach flu. And I think you got it from daycare.

Your teachers were talking and I was listening this morning about a virus that they are all getting sick from that they are getting from the daycare. PLUS, on Friday they told me you had been exposed to sick children AND to the pink eye that day.

This weekend, we had boughts of diarrhea and vomiting that lasted the whole weekend. I have never been so covered in vomit in all my life. I was actually doused in it at least four or five times. You and I spend many a moment snuggling in the bathtub both covered in a layer of puke while you clung to my neck because you were scared of the puking that had just taken place and didn't feel good and needed the comfort of me there. I didn't know it was possible to undress a child and myself and bath off puke without ever detaching you from my neck.

To make it just a little bit MORE challenging - April has the flu too. Now, I know you are saying "Whatever....that's just not possible!" Okay - if it's NOT possible, then it's a pretty freaky coincidence because my DOG is turbo-horking EVERYTHING all over the floor and having disturbing episodes of diarrhea in our kitchen where she then feels so ashamed of herself that she curls up in a pathetic ball under the tall table in the kitchen and tries to disappear into the floor.

Last night, it hit your Daddy - HARD! I thought we had gotten past the worst, but EVERY time I turned over last night, I heard your father vomiting in the bathroom again and again. I don't think he slept more than 30 minutes the whole night. I just spoke with him and he sounds like death.

So, this morning I got you ready for daycare and fed you. You are acting MUCH like your normal self, so I thought we could clear out of the house and leave Daddy time to rest, relax and mend.

When I got you to daycare, you had such a violent episode of diarrhea, I was flabbergasted. You had poop all over your clothes and even down in your socks. I took off all your clothes and gave you a spongebath with wipes, packaged up your soiled clothes, stuck them in the car, redressed you in a new outfit and then left you at daycare.

And I justified this action because I KNOW that this is where we caught it from, so it's not like the other children in the room haven't ALREADY been exposed. (I know - I know - I could win an award for justifications like that.... the bad mom award? The bad neighbor award? I know - I SUCK!)

When I got to work, after walking the halls to deliver paperwork and TALKING WITH MY BOSS, I finally became aware that I have been interacting with people while I have POOP ON MY SHIRT!

I'm sorry, but did you catch that? I said... I HAVE POOP ON MY SHIRT.




Here are your latest art projects. First, we have the Christmas tree on a popsicle stick:

And this one is my favorite because of how PROUD you are of it. This is a handpainted mitten that you show to anyone who comes in the house with great pride. You can almost see the words on your fact: Look what I MADE!! :)

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