Slacker Blogger

I was beating myself up for not keeping up on my blog. I love writing my posts but I have been doing 1000 other things. I thought to myself, “Self, what have you been doing?” And the answer came back immediately and very clearly. I have been living.

I spent more time writing last year when I was having trouble with SAD. It was easy to sit still and write because I wasn’t motivated to do other stuff. Sometimes in the past I wrote because I felt like I should. From here on out, I am going to write because I want to and only if I have the time. I am going to cut Heather some slack.

I have been watching my kids play sports. I love sitting on the side lines with the other parents chatting and watching my kids play.

Sophia’s soccer team is not very good. This is not criticism it’s the truth. They are, however, the cutest bunch of girls around. They like soccer and each other and that is very apparent. When someone gets hurt they all rush over to make sure she’s OK. This is even if the ref hasn’t blown the whistle which makes it very easy for the other team to score. They score often. Our girls aren’t very aggressive, they’re more polite like, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there. Here’s your ball.” And then they’ll step aside. Now, with all that being said, they have improved dramatically! Now they’re only polite half the time and they have moments of fierce competitiveness.

Two weeks ago the girls won a game, the first one in 3 years. We parents were so excited we could hardly stand it. It was great. The girls thought they had tied so we had to convince them they won. Sophia pulled a t’weenager and sulked because the coach yelled at her. I told her, “That’s what coaches do. They tell you how to play.” She wasn’t buying it.

And even with all that going on, I still love watching them play. Sophia is getting so long and lanky. She’s also strong and athletic. She’s growing up and I get a joy watching her that I couldn’t understand before I had kids. I don’t care that they don’t win. I love that they can have fun and focus on getting better, supporting each other and being good sports. We’re still working on that. I am proudest when they all walk off the field after a loss and talk about what they did right. We all need to do that.

And the boys are playing baseball. I cannot tell you how cute this is. Bob is their coach and I have to say, he is a great coach. He’s patient, strong, caring and an excellent role model. The boys each have a baseball bag with their stuff in it. They are the Giants and they have grey shirts and pants. There is nothing like seeing a row of little boys in matching baseball uniforms. It is beyond cute.

I haven’t been to practice yet but I have been to almost all their games. The first game was the hardest. Our boys didn’t really know what to do and the other team has been playing together for 3 years. Their coach was hard core and needed to win. Bob just wanted our boys to get a few hits and maybe an out or two. Luckily the batting team only gets to go through the roster once and then they head back out onto the field. If not it would have been a kagillion to zero. The cutest part of it all was what the boys said after the game. Kees was so proud that he hit a ball and that, “I helped get 2 outs.” Coulter had a couple hits and was quite proud as well. They didn’t focus on the fact that they got creamed, not for one second.

In one of the innings Kees was playing 2nd base. The short stop threw the ball to Kees a couple times and Kees missed it. Instead of being frustrated with Kees he solved the problem his own way. He started rolling the ball to Kees instead. Brilliant! It totally worked and they were both happy to get an out. I love when they problem solve on their own. I would have never come up with that solution.

One game was cut short because the other coach needed to leave. Bob wanted to do some batting practice with the boys since they had field time but they wanted to roll down the grassy hill. 12 boys ages 6-8 all rolling down the hill. So cute. Frustrating to Bob but who can blame them? Rolling down the hill is way fun and you’re only little once.

I often coach first base. Watching them hit the ball and then run is just great. All of them look genuinely shocked when they make contact. Then they have to stop and watch the ball and decide what they’re going to do next. You can practically see the wheels turning. I am yelling, “RUN! RUN!” Then, like someone flipped a switch, they get it and they run. Every time they get to first we talk about what is going to happen next. I do this 50 times during a game and it’s great every time. I love it.

And again, I get a joy out of watching them that I can’t explain. It brings tears to my eyes to think of them playing baseball. It’s cute yes but it’s also watching them grow up. They can do it and they’re learning. They’re learning to play baseball, to be part of a team, to listen to their coach, to be grateful to their parents for letting them play, to be supportive of each other and to focus on the positive. It is a beautiful thing.

I have also been doing my own things and doing double duty too. Bob has been gone every other week for almost 2 months now. The kids and I have our own routine but I definitely need to pick up the slack. I am on the board of the PTA and will be the President next year. I’m driving for Meals on Wheels and am working out 4 days per week. It is amazing how much time that can take. I am in a book club and a mother of daughters club too. All these things take time and energy on top of all the day to day stuff.

I have had 100 blog ideas but haven’t had time to write them down. I want to have a record but I also want to live without having to stop all the time. I often see people taking pictures when they are out with their kids. The kids are playing and the parents are yelling for them to stop so they can take a picture. LET THEM PLAY! Have you ever felt like you were missing out because you were taking pictures? I have and I don’t want to miss out. I have decided that many times I am just going to be in the moment and I’ll have to rely on my memories for pictures. I will blog when I have time and I won’t beat myself up when I don’t blog. So until next time….when ever that is. Be good to yourself and I’ll be good to me.

Superheroes

When we are kids we all have heroes and heroines. We’re taught at first that they are recognizable mostly because of their tight fitting costumes and capes. Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman etc. Of course the women are more scantily clad than the men but that is for a whole other entry. Google “Superheroes” and check out the pictures. 95% of them are men. And the men, of course, have big, bulging muscles. These are mostly used for beating up bad guys and saving us poor helpless women. Whatever… My kids have all been superheroes at one time or another. They jump off of things and dress in costume so they are not recognizable.

One of my favorite kid superhero stories is about Coulter when he was dressed as Spiderman for Spookorama at their school. I think he was in kindergarten. I painted his face because they aren’t allowed to wear masks for safety reasons. When we arrived at school a bunch of the parents said, “Hey, it’s Spiderman!” or “Hello Spiderman!” And each time this happened Coulter became quite alarmed. He would stop and say, “I’m not the real Spiderman.” He wanted to make this very clear and he would wait until he could tell that the person he was talking to understood that he was NOT the real Spiderman. He was afraid that if something went horribly wrong everyone would turn to him and expect him to handle the situation. He did not want that responsibility and he did not want people to have a false sense of security because he was there. It was over the top cute.

Then we jump ahead a few years when we all have to do reports on our hero(ine)s. Sophia’s first report was on Amelia Earhart. Coulter will be picking someone soon but hasn’t yet. We are forced to take a look at real people and see those who have really contributed to our society or have advanced us in some way. These people are real heroes. Take note, NONE of them are wearing tights or capes. There are a couple exceptions I suppose, Mikhail Baryshnikov being one.

A few of my favorite heroes are….. Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Albert Einstein, John Adams, Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela, Sacagawea, Winston Churchill, Neil Armstrong, Susan B. Anthony, Harriet Tubman and Margaret Thatcher. I don’t think you’d catch any of them in tights and a cape, although it would make a funny picture. All of these people were visionaries. They had a dream, a vision, determination and tenacity. When others said, “It can’t be done.” they cast that opinion aside and continued on the path of righteousness and strength. They didn’t care what the masses said, the thing that was important was in their hearts and that needed to get out. It was more than a mission it was necessity. And by following their vision they have made a better world for us all.

Recently I have been drawn to more ordinary heroes. Yesterday I was at my workout facility doing a core strengthening class and then a cardio blast. It was (always is) hard. Really, it’s so hard that I laugh during class because I know that the teacher is crazy to think I could do all this stuff. I do the best I can and then I go back a couple days later to do it (half of it) all over again. When I walked out of the gym yesterday there were the usual suspects in the lobby, a group of 70-80 somethings. I said, “She was trying to kill us in there!” to which they all laughed. I stopped and talked to the ladies.

The 2 chattiest of the bunch were seated closest to me. We struck up a conversation. They were telling me that their class was really hard too, lots of strength training and balance exercises. They’ve invited the men but they won’t come. They’re too scared. We all giggled. One of them introduced herself to me, her name was Bo. She told me about all the things that she does and volunteers for each week. The day before she had volunteered with the Children’s Theater (I think that was it), a highway cleanup crew and had been to see Wicked with some friends. She makes being 80 something sound pretty great. She told me how on the clean up there was a piece of garbage across a little creek and up an embankment. Her 2 recently retired friends, both about 65 said, “Oh, just leave it.” Bo couldn’t do that. She leapt over the creek and climbed up to get the garbage. She climbed down and hopped back over the creek to toss it in the sack. She showed them. Her friend piped up and said, with a twinkle in her eye and a big grin on her face, “And we’re both in our 80’s!” And now these 2 ladies are 2 of my newest heroines. They are fun, active, involved and moving forward. They have a vision of their future and it includes helping others and being a participant in life.

Another of my senior heroines is my friend Signe, she is 80 and is on my Meals on Wheels route. She is not as mobile as she once was but she is very smart and involved in the rhythm of life, politics and spirituality. And oh, is she wise! I sometimes feel like she can see my soul. A few weeks ago she told me that up until this year she was having a fine time being an old lady. It is becoming less fun than it was. Signe often challenges me on various subjects and she makes me think. I am always glad to see her and glean a bit of wisdom. She is another kind of heroine.

And I don’t forget all the grandparents in our lives. They are all active and showing us the ropes on how to be older. My mom tells me what is coming and I am grateful to her for sharing. I know our makeup is very similar and I will most likely face many of the same issues. Ed is still skiing at75 and mom at 71. Ans works so hard I don’t know how she does it. She feeds thousands of kids every day. Bert runs his own company and helps many organizations raise money. Dad is still working and valued for it at 73.Sally runs their home while dad has been travelling with work. She set up a day camp for all the grandkids last year too. They are all very active and still….none of them is wearing capes and tights. Again, there’s an interesting picture.

I challenge you to take a look around and take note of the heroes all around you. Focus on what it is that draws you to them and makes you want to be better. What is it that you admire about them? Educators, volunteers, that woman who tries to kill you in the core class, a coach that lifts a kid that no one else did or could, the senior with consistently good advice, the friend who loves your children and family and my new friends who give me a window into what the 80s can be. There are so many out there and we just need to see them, really see them. They are there to be the example and to teach us all what we can be, and all of us can be a hero to someone.

Modern Family

Sophia has been watching Modern Family with me lately.  I’m on the fence about if it’s appropriate or not.  Actually, to be more accurate, I don’t think it is appropriate but it has given me a platform to explain lots of things.  I guess it can be appropriate with explanation. 

There are often jokes that she doesn’t get so I stop the show and explain them.  This morning we were watching the one where Phil finds out that his 17 year old daughter is not a virgin.  He is driving his daughters to the mall and says something about Haley that ends in “aversion.”  His other daughter, Alex, starts laughing in the back seat, catches herself and realizes that her dad didn’t know about Haley’s indiscretion.  She starts to say, “I thought you said….” And then she trails off.  He sees their faces and he knows now.  There are shocked faces all around…….  I put the show on pause.  I ask Sophia, “Do you know what just happened?”  She doesn’t. 

I start to explain.  “Do you know what a virgin is?”  She doesn’t.  I explain that it is a person who has never had sex.  She knows what sex is.  She nods that she understands.  I explain that when Phil said, “aversion” Alex heard “a virgin” and started to laugh because Haley was not a virgin.  Their dad was shocked because he didn’t know that and because Haley is a young person, too young to be having sex.  I needed to make that clear to Sophia.  She understood what happened and that it wasn’t appropriate. 

Later on Mitchell was walking next to Cameron (they’re a gay couple) and was leading a party of 30 people.  To make sure he was visible he was carrying a flag.  He said, “Follow the party flag everyone.”  Cameron heard “party fag” and gave Mitchell “the eye.” Mitchell said, “I said party FLAG.”  Again, time to pause the show.  Sophia did not know the word “fag.”  I explained and we moved on.

In both of those instances I was glad she didn’t know those words.  She is 11 and still so sweet and innocent.  I love that.  I am grateful that those words have not come up in her circle.  I remember very clearly the first time someone in my circle brought up the word virgin.  It was in 7^th grade and I had no idea what that word was.  They asked me if I was a virgin.  I said, “I don’t know.” After a 7^th grade explanation I definitely knew I was one.  They all laughed that I didn’t know that word and I was embarrassed.  The truth of the matter is I shouldn’t have known that word.  Why would that come up in 7^th grade?  Scary. 

I don’t want Sophia to have to deal with that.  Kids seem to know things earlier than when I was a kid and I would rather give her the explanation so I know she is getting proper information.  I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable talking to me but she will. 

I would never let her watch Modern Family without Bob or me there to explain what is going on.  Most if it would go right over her head.  I guess that would be fine except that I don’t want her guessing and misunderstanding what is going on.  A wrong interpretation or explanation by another 11 year old can cause quite a bit of confusion. 

It has been a good platform to us to discuss lots of different things.  It would be very inappropriate for Sophia if I wasn’t there.  She has been pretty well protected from the real world and she deserves that.  I want to give her enough information without overwhelming her.  It is a fine line and different with every kid.  I think she can handle what I tell her.  She is VERY wise and tells me if she is uncomfortable or if I start to tell her more than she needs to know.  Yes, Modern Family is inappropriate BUT we will continue to use it as a safe way to learn about our world.    

Capture the Flag and a Dog Wash

Sunday was a perfect day….PERFECT! We all got up well rested and ready for the day. We were going to go to church buuUUUuuuut, it was the perfect day and we wanted to be outside in it. In Portland, when the sun comes out, you pay attention! If you don’t, it will go away thinking it’s been ignored and not appreciated. MR. SUN, WE APPRECIATE YOU!!! I SWEAR! SEE, WE’RE OUT HERE SOAKING IN YOUR GLORY. PLEASE STAY! So we all went out and paid homage……all day.

The day started with a trip to the Rebuilding Center (That I seem to always call the Rebuild It Center). We picked up an old kitchen sink and a counter top to fashion a dog washing station. I had hot water added outside. When it’s cold out it just seems mean to hose Iva off with cold water. The plan for the dog wash was to make it out of the sink, counter top and a pallet that was on the side of the street. Reduce, reuse, recycle….we live in Portland for goodness sakes.

When we got home Bob started getting all the tools out, I made lunch and the kids went into the park. Sophia was climbing trees and the boys were riding their Green Machines. At 2 pm the park filled with kids and they played capture the flag. This is a new thing around here. One of the moms shot out an email a week ago to set up a game last week. It was so successful that we did it again. It was a beautiful sight. There were about 30 kids running all over the place for almost 2 ½ hours. Beverly Cleary herself couldn’t have written it better!

While they were playing Bob and I were building. It’s not finished yet but I will post a picture when it’s done. We made great progress and were loving being in the SUN!

At 5 our friend Greg Baker came over for a jam with Sophia. Rebecca was out of town and Sophia needed to practice, a perfect combination. They spent almost an hour playing music while we wrapped up our day. I made dinner to the great jams of Sophia and Greg. I loved it.

It was an ordinary day but to me it was perfect. I love the perfectly ordinary days of our lives the most. When I think of this spring I will remember this past Sunday. Our spring has been pretty nice in my book. We have seen many more days of sun than last year and that is what I choose to focus on. Yes, it’s damp out there, the ground is muddy and the moss is thick and healthy but my glass is half full. The sun is shining brightly and reflects nicely off of the puddles and my half full glass of …….. wine. The sun has taken notice of our joy and will grace us with her presence for the next few days and warm us to a balmy 60+ degrees. I will take these perfectly ordinary sunny days and lock them into my memory as perfect, period.

The Help

I am trying to teach my kids to do things for themselves.  I believe when you can take care of yourself you gain independence.  Every day that our kids are with us is one day closer to the day they live on their own and I want them ready to succeed. 

The latest iteration of their learning is making their lunches.  Sophia has been doing this for about a year.  I have been making the boys’ lunches.  With Sophia if she doesn’t make her lunch she has to pay for her own hot lunch out of her allowance.  Now that will be the case with the boys too.  They all have plenty of money. 

I put a chart on the wall that has everything that should go into a school lunch.  There   are proteins, fruits, veggies, dairy, snacks, drinks etc.   This way their lunch is not 3 cookies, a Z Bar and chips of some sort or another. 

Our morning routine starts at 7:00.  It starts slowly.  Coulter likes to sit in front of my radiant heater in my bathroom.  He’s really good about getting out of bed but not much good at getting ready for the day.  I have to remind him to get dressed almost every day.  Kees is hard to get out of bed but once he’s up he gets ready on his own.  I still wake Sophia up but she pretty much takes care of herself. 

We head downstairs at about 7:40.  Mind you by now I have told the boys 5 times that they should go start making their sandwiches.  They haven’t….  We all get in the kitchen.  I start making egg sandwiches for breakfast.  (Put toast in toaster. Start the eggs on the griddle.) The boys start their sandwiches.  Today it was peanut butter and jelly.  I have to help them get out the “ingredients,” they get the knives.  I explain that you make the sandwich first and cut the crust off afterwards if that’s how you want it.  Yesterday they used 5 knives to make their sandwiches, today it was down to one each.  They were quite proud of that.  (I flip the eggs. Add cheese and put the ham on the griddle.) Sophia can’t find the cheese in the fridge, I have to find it and get her the proper knife. She needs help cutting the cheese, actual cheese people.  (Pull toast from toaster and add butter. Get plates.)  Next the boys ask if I can help them get yogurt, it’s in a big container.  Sure.  And can I cut a pear and an apple for them?  Sure.  I do all the above, put them in proper containers and then add it to their lunch.   “Mom, can you pour my drink for lunch?”  I do, add that to the lunch. (Check status of the eggs for sandwiches.)  “Mom, can we have popcorn for a snack?” “Yep.”  I make popcorn.   The egg sandwiches are done and on the table for the boys.  I make a smoothie for Sophia and me.  “Boys, does this look like you are done with your part of making your sandwiches?”  Their mess is EVERYWHERE.  They get up and put the “ingredients” away, knives in the sink and bread back.  Coulter says, “We’re making our lunches so you don’t have to do so much.”

Does any part of that experience seem like it was less work for me?  NO!  It takes more time, it is WAY more of a mess, there are little bodies under foot at every turn, there are more dishes, it takes longer and generally creates much more work for me.  BUT….  They are (sort of) making their lunches.  It’s a first step.  It’s the first step in learning how to make their lunch more efficiently and getting it off my plate.  I have to be patient and let a lot of it go.  They do it differently than I do but it’s all good and it’s a little part of their independence.  The boys are proud of their lunches, it’s an accomplishment.

The biggest lesson here is for me.  I have to be willing to work through the mess, crowd and length of time it takes to accomplish their task.  Those issues are why so many of us continue to do things for our kids that they are fully capable of.  It’s our issue, not theirs.  I constantly remind myself of that and that I have almost 40 years of experience over them.   They can’t do it like I do….yet.  I can make lunches and their breakfast in 20 minutes with little to no mess.  But if I do that, they aren’t learning and they don’t get the satisfaction of their accomplishment.  They are participating in their growing up and in our day to day.  It makes them aware of a time line and what it takes to make it through their day.  I have to make sure there is enough time to complete the task without too much stress.  I have to keep my voice tone positive.  This is big.  I am not very patient.  I need to be a guide, not the expert.

So we will be working on efficiency and patience respectively.  I love them all so much and want them to be successful on all levels.  So far they are growing up and shining brightly.  If I could give them a grade they’d all get A++.  Way to go kids….now, let’s pick up the pace.

You Are Worthy

I was watching the national news last night and listening to a few of the people who eulogized Whitney Houston.  Kevin Costner said that Whitney often asked, “Am I good enough?” When she auditioned for her role in The Body Guard she took note of what was wrong with her.  Her look wasn’t quite right.  She was unsure of her talent.  Could she sing what and how they wanted her to?  And that was Whitney Houston in her prime.   Do you remember how beautiful and full of life she was? Her voice was like nothing I had ever heard before.  Every note…..perfect.  I remember belting out a few of her songs in the 80’s when she was at the height of her career and I too had those feelings of inadequacy.  I think we all do.  And looking back….I was beautiful, talented and smart.  Why in the world would that girl be insecure?

When have you ever been at a funeral when someone said anything less?  People don’t talk about short comings or faults at funerals they always talk about how they loved the person and admired their talents.  That the person was so funny, smart, generous and loving.  They’re never mean, selfish, dumb and ugly. 

So why is it that most of us focus on what we perceive as our short comings?  We all do it and it’s a shame because it makes us feel unworthy, small, less than.  The truth of the matter is we came into this world perfectly who we are.  Yes, we are good enough. 

I think that if someone speaks about me they’d say I am funny….ah, because I am. I am funny, NOT silly, BIG difference.  I believe they’d say I was smart, generous, kind, artistic, creative, a loving parent and a good friend.  They might include a few of the following as well.  I enjoy a challenge.  I love creating.  I like to fix broken things if I can to forgo getting something new.  I am a good cook.  I throw great parties.  I can go with the flow and I am not a perfectionist.  I can handle good enough.  I am the one you want with you in a stressful situation.  I will make a decision when it needs to be made.  I am a good listener.  I believe I give good advice.  I am open to new ideas.  These are only a few of the things that I need to carry around with me and believe. 

I know all those things are true and yet, I focus on other things.  I need to be more organized, exercise more, start yoga and lose weight.  I know these things are important too but they are not what make me….ME.  Those are the things that support me in who I am.  They are “an exercise” in my life that supports my soul, who I really am.  I am all the things in the last paragraph.  I am not “lose weight” and “exercise more” I am kind and loving. 

We all need to focus on who we are not what we aren’t.  I am worthy.  You are worthy.  You know all your friends would say you are and those that wouldn’t are not to be trusted.  They don’t know you.  I know most of the people who read this blog and you are all worthy, kind, smart and generous your selves.  I know this because you are my friends and I only maintain friendships with those who are all those things.  Life is too short to waste my time on people who are not worthy of it.  I have tried to have friendships with people who weren’t as generous and kind and it is an exercise in frustration.  Their negative energy got entangled in my positive energy and it brought me down.  We’ve all had that friend that always has a problem or can pick you apart.  As I said above, we all know what our faults are, we don’t need reminding by a so called, “friend.”

Yes Whitney, you were good enough.  It is very sad that she is gone but I believe it all started with her insecurities.  Those are what will get you, eat at you.  If only there was a way to convey that message to her so that she truly knew it, felt it, owned it.  It may have changed her life and given her more time to shine. 

So please take note of you and I will take note of me.  You are awesome and I don’t mean that in high school vernacular, I mean that as in we were created by an awesome God and in his likeness.  We are to be held up and admired like the jewels we are.  We are beautiful, full of many facets all while we reflect the light all around us and in us.  WE ARE WORTHY!

It Was a Regular Night

Last night was a really fun night until…..  I can’t, nay, won’t, start with the punch line.  Let me back up a few hours. 

This is the first not regular part, it was better than regular.  My brother and I started planning for last night in December.  He and Tina generously invited us out for an adult night on the town as our Christmas Gift.  Our usual babysitter was out….got her wisdom teeth pulled 3 days ago.  Ahh, not so wise….what about us Clara?  What about us?  Well, for the good name of the Bauer-Baker Family I have to say Clara’s Mom, Rebecca, stepped up and volunteered, along with her husband Greg, to watch the kids.  I was and am grateful. 

Bob and I met Rex and Tina at 6:30 at Lucca.  I had never been there so I had no idea what to expect.  We had a reservation and by the looks of the crowd waiting, it’s a dang good thing.  We had a nice chat and the food (at least mine) was awesome.  Honestly, it was the best thing I have eaten in a long time.  I had the braised pork shoulder with polenta and roasted vegetables.  It was really fun.  After dinner we headed across the street to Perry’s for dessert.  We ran into friends, had our treats and finished up our night out.  It was really fun and we were home by 9:30.  Nice.

Here’s where the regular part begins.  Greg was finishing putting the kids to bed.  I was so glad we missed that.  What’s the purpose of a night out if you have to come home and put your kids to bed?  We had a glass of wine and talked to Greg and Rebecca for about an hour.  That’s always fun.  After they left we sat down to watch a movie, Cowboys and Aliens to be exact.  Not the worst movie ever.  It was worth the dollar we spent on it at the Red Box. 

About 75% of the way through the movie Kees comes stammering down the stairs.  Mind you it was 12:15 am.  He said, “I can’t find Coulter and I’m scared.”  I said, “Come here baby.”  He came over and curled up on my lap. My sweet baby, momma will comfort you.  About 2 minutes later he belched and threw up a little bit on me.  These things happen.  I lift his head up off of me to gain control of the situation and he immediately projectile vomits all over me.  I was covered from my neck to my knees.  Bob came over, grabbed Kees and set him down about 5 feet from me where he threw up all over the carpet.  Seriously it sounded like he spilled a gallon of liquid mixed with Jell-O on the floor. Splat, splat…pause…splaaaaatttttt.  Bob grabbed him again and carried him into the bathroom and instruct Kees to, “Throw up in the toilet.”  He did.  A lot.

While Bob was carrying Kees around, I was laying back on couch covered in red, stinky barf.  Apparently Kees had some licorice and popcorn yesterday.  Who knew?  I couldn’t move because if I did it would spill (more puke) on the floor.  I called, calmly to Bob, “Can you bring me a towel?”  He did.  I covered the front of me with said towel doing the best I could to contain the damage, and I moved into the bathroom.  I disrobed down to my underwear because I was soaked through to them. I started seeing a LOT of humor in this situation.  I had on a turtleneck, a sweater and a vest and was soaked through!  Impressive performance. 

By now, Kees was finished expelling and said, “I feel better.”  I asked him to wait down stairs by the toilet, just in case, while I made a bed for him in our room.  He agreed.  I laid down a few towels and made a bed for him on the towels.  I also set a pan out for him in case of emergency. When I came down to retrieve him he was wiping off the end of the tie on his bathrobe on one of my new towels.  In his entire projectile vomiting episode he only got that one drop on himself.  Again, quite impressive.  I stripped him of his robe, grabbed the towel and tossed them down the chute to Bob who was starting the first of a few loads of laundry.  Kees said, “Mom, sorry I barfed on you.”  I said, “It’s OK.  It happens.”  Kees turned and bounded up the stairs like nothing had happened.

I got him settled into his makeshift bed.  I took a shower.  I needed one…..badly.  While I was doing this Bob did laundry, cleaned up vomit from various locations in a 20 by 5 foot wide area.  Luckily, we have a small carpet cleaner for wet spills.  It comes in handy more often than I would like and always for something gross.  I can’t imagine what could be growing in that machine.  He cleaned carpet, clothes, towels, blankets, more carpet, pillows, the couch, under the cushions of the couch and so on.  Gross, gross and more gross….

25 minutes after this whole fiasco started we were back on the couch in different clothes and with another glass of wine in hand.  It was needed.  I looked at Bob and we both just started cracking up.  I said, “You couldn’t write that scene in a movie if you tried.  No one would believe it.”  We laughed for 5 minutes recapping the whole thing.  Honestly, it was hilarious.  One minute you’re sitting there peacefully watching a stupid movie, glad that it’s almost over so you can go to bed and the next you’re covered in your son’s puke watching him single handedly ruin your house like and alien spewing acid.  You can’t make this stuff up! 

So there is our regular night, regular for a mom and dad of 3 kids.  It happens.