Sick!

**Disclaimer- This post may contain material that may not be suitable for the very squeamish or newly pregnant. Proceed with discretion.


On Saturday we went to the Scera Pool (best pool ever if you have kids) and at the entrance there was a big sign posted that read something along the lines of "If your child(ren) have had diarrhea or vomiting any time in the past 10 days, please do not let them into the pool" or something like that. Ok, first of all, who has a bunch of kids and hasn't had someone sick in the past 2 weeks? Seems kinda unlikely. Secondly, if you went to all the trouble to get everything all ready, and get everyone all dressed and sunblocked and packed up and get to the pool, are you really going to see a sign like that and say " Oh, guess we can't come to the pool, then." No way! You would probably feel guilty, but pretend not to see the sign and proceed into the pool. Imagine the devastation if you told the kids you had to go home!

We, however, actually didn't have any sick kids and so we didn't think anything of the sign. We had a fun day at the pool (you should have seen the itty-bitty daisy swimsuit Allie wore- she loved the water and was trying to grab at it. So cute!!) I enjoyed sitting with the baby while she slept, eating Swedish Fish and reading my Harry Potter book (the first one- I am a little late to jump on the bandwagon, but so far am loving it! Maybe I'll blog about it later) Drew and Marshall had fun playing in the pool, and Drew swallowed as much pool water as his little tummy could hold- I don't really like to think about that much, considering how many swollen diapers I saw, not to mention the fact that midway through the afternoon, they evacuated the pool and had to go fishing for poo! They even poured some disinfectant in the water around where the poo was. (I don't get how that is supposed to help. Guess it can't hurt, (unless swimming around in even more caustic chemicals is somehow better than swimming around in poo) but how nasty is that? Public pools are so disgusting. But anyways...we went home tired and sticky, but a good time was had by all. This is where my story really begins...

Sunday morning Drew and I were making cookies together- Drew was sitting on top of the counter, where he usually sits when he "helps" me. I got the cookie dough all made and handed him a spoonful, as usual. Unusual, though, was how he barely licked the spoon and held it limply in his hand for a second. As I curiously took it from him, asking him what was the matter, I got my answer before I was even ready. You guessed it- before I could even set the spoon down, he started throwing up all over himself, all over the counter, and luckily, he missed the bowl of cookie dough. (I am going to hope against hope that none splashed in there that I didn't see. Ewww, sorry. That was really gross.) Drew is not a puker. So when he did, I didn't know what to do. It kinda paralyzes me. It's not like when I'm at work, and a patient throws up- that is totally different for many reasons. Adults know when they are going to throw up, so its usually contained, they have usually just had surgery so aren't really eating much, and even if they do miss the bucket, we just call housekeeping and they come clean it up. When your kid throws up around the house, it can be kind of a panic. So I got him all cleaned up and bathed, and poured about a gallon of bleach all over everything in my kitchen, and Drew seemed fine, not sick at all. Even asking for food. So I thought, that was random, guess he will be ok to go to church. I think you know where this is going.

Sacrament meeting was fine, Drew played with his quiet book as usual, and then fell asleep on Marshall's lap; when he woke up, Marshall took him to nursery, which he absolutley loves. I was sitting in Relief Society with the baby when a very young (substitute) nursery leader poked her head in the door and told me that Drew was throwing up in the nursery. MORTIFICATION. I handed off Allie to a friend and bolted towards the nursery, which had been mostly evacuated, with bewildered little faces staring up at me, and the nursery leaders husband standing near Drew, I am SURE not wanting to be anywhere near him, holding a tissue in his hand (yeah, THAT will clean up that gallon of barf that is all over the floor, chairs, trash can and all over Drew. Those poor substitute leaders. I hope this won't scare them away from ever having kids!) So I pick Drew up (at arms' length!) and carry him off to the bathroom. There was not a stitch of clothing on him that wasn't completely doused. And of course, I just HAD to put every piece of church clothing he owns on him that day. Shirt, tie, vest, pants, and shoes. Stripped down to his socks and diaper (they managed to stay clean) and with a sinkful of reeking clothes, I am off to find Marshall so he can take Drew while I get started attempting cleaning up the nursery. I raided the janitor's closet and found a few items that might work, not a great selection, but I figure I will do the best I can with what is available. After 20 minutes or so of scrubbing, I got as much of it cleaned up as was possible. The bad news is that I'm quite sure that carpet will never look quite the same after yesterday. The good news is we will be moving into our beautiful new church building in our neighborhood week after next. (he he he- aren't I terrible?)
Whether or not Drew actually got sick from drinking the pool water has yet to be proven, maybe even a bit unlikely considering the speed of the exposure vs. onset of symptoms. Still makes me wonder, though....Don't even know exactly what my point is in telling this story. Maybe I am feeling sorry for myself, maybe I am just looking for someone to commiserate with me? I think most likelyI am just telling this story cause I secretly like grossing people out. :)