Spock got a stomach virus, probably from her YMCA pre-school class since the Barf Monster has been sighted stalking amongst the pupils and staff. Of course her first bout of vomiting occurred in her car seat. I must praise Sweet Babou for his willingness to be the parent who dissembled and cleaned the car seat. Seriously, I cannot stand the smell of vomit without wanting to hurl myownself, so Sweet Babou is a parenting god among men.
The baby is fine now, and wanted to go to “camp” (her word for the YMCA) today but I thought I should give her another day at home. This might have been a tactical error on my part, since she is bored and has decided I am the most convenient source of entertainment. In a desperate bid to free myself from playing “Elmo” with her one more time, I have turned on Team Umizoomi and fled to the computer. I tell myself that since she is leaning “basic math skills”, I don’t completely suck as a mother.
Let me cling to my delusions, people.
I am waiting to see if the other yurk-shoe will drop, AKA if the other kids will get the virus as well. My friend Sorcha and her youngest daughter are coming up this weekend, and I am hoping no vomit-drenched hellscape awaits them. Other people worry about clean towels for their guests, but I just don’t want to welcome them into a plague ward. I have low standards, but they ARE standards.
On that note, I have to go. My extremely cute baby daughter just informed me she needs “luff”. I will, of course, be giving her all the luff I’ve got handy about my person.
I always hand over the luff.