Why is it that kids always get sick in the middle of the night? What is it about 3 a.m., anyway?
3 a.m. is the time of night morning I tend to wake up for no discernable reason at all, and then struggle to get back to sleep as my mind makes up lists of things to do and stuff to worry about and just generally races around like someone on speed until the sun peeks over the horizon in the morning. At that point, right after Snags wakes up and bounces into my room demanding breakfast? That’s the point that my mind settles and says “Okay, I’m done thinking. Why don’t you go ahead and drift back off to sleep now…” Only Snags is standing at my bedside announcing each passing minute of my digital alarm clock…
Mom, it’s 5:56. 5:57, 5:58, 5:59…
I’ve taken to telling him that nobody is allowed to get up before 7:00 am, but to no avail. He’s up and he’s not willing or able to go back to sleep for another hour. And my brain is so exhausted from the 3 a.m. thought fest that even 7:00 is too early. I need to sleep until 10:00.
But there is school and work and 10:00 is just not possible. If I’m lucky, Snags will wander downstairs and watch cartoons until 7:00 when he comes back up the stairs and demands breakfast. Which he could get himself. It’s not like I cook the kid a hot meal every day. But you know how it goes, Rice Crispies taste better when poured into the bowl by mom…
Three a.m. this past Monday wasn’t so different. Except for the vomiting. Yes, that woke me up. Snags ran into our bedroom and announced that he thought he was going to be sick. I told him to run to the bathroom. He did, where he proceeded to vomit, once, a small amount, into the toilet. As he should. But then, for some inexplicable reason, he argued with me about needing a towel and when I didn’t give him one, he decided to vomit again, a lot more, right there on the bathroom floor, NEXT to the toilet. Apparently turning his head was too much effort. Or the vomit in the toilet bowl was too gross to look at. Like road kill.
That’s when the screaming commenced. My screaming. At poor, not feeling so well, Snags. For vomiting on the floor then crawling through it and spreading it around when really, all he had to do was turn his head slightly to the right and aim into the toilet bowl, and for God’s sake, stay STILL. I swear to you, if I had done that when I was a kid my mother would have beaten my backside with one of my dad’s belts. Think you don’t feel good now? Stay right there until I come back. Now get UP and bend over! Smack…
Instead I just stood there and yelled. Then I cleaned up the vomit and took the offending clothes and towels to the basement where I scrubbed them out in the deep sink and threw them into the washing machine. To run twice.
Then I took a can of Lysol and sprayed down every door knob and faucet and light switch in the house. At half past 3 a.m.
Snags went back to sleep after that, and I lay awake in bed wondering what on earth compels a child to vomit on the floor next to the toilet instead of in the toilet he is kneeling in front of. And I felt bad for the yelling.
2 responses to “3 A.M. I Hate You”
oh dear me….we are truly NOT at our best in the middle of the night huh? Hugs for you, and hugs for Snags.
by the way….tell Snags, when he is feeling better, that they frog on my blog (tee hee Sugar would say, “that ryhmes!”) is a Pacific Tree Frog!
Hope your day is free of vomit!
Ahhh Belle, we’ve been doing the 3am with Misses E and M for the last two nights though no vomiting thank Bob. Hope Snags feels much better soon, and who wants vomit on the floor, I might have shouted too, bleurghhhh.