When I'm Queen of the World...

When I'm Queen of the World, Vomiting will no longer exist. Between my Hyperemesis Gravidarum with all three pregnancies (first two much worse than with Alexander) and Alexander making up for my more mild case in his pregnancy with his vomiting frequency, I am so done with vomit.

Alexander has passed up with siblings on vomiting frequency and this Momma is tired. I'm not talking about the vomiting from when the nickel was stuck in his esophagus. That's understandable. I'm referring to viral or bacterial ailments. Less than a week after the nickel incident 2 months ago, he got sick in the car and there was projectile vomit everywhere. It was late at night and I Chris and I stopped at a convenience store and bought paper towels and I had to borrow the clerk's cleaning solution. Good times. Good times. And that's just one past incident I'm willing to recall on this post.

I knew something was wrong yesterday afternoon when he fell asleep on the couch. He rarely does that. To get that kid to go to sleep, we have to take him on drives. 

When he woke up, he was really hot (fever) and tugging at his ears and saying "Ow..." and crying. I figured he may have an ear infection (I didn't even think of a yucky tummy...), so I packed him up and off to the doctor we went. Well...we got in the waiting room and I signed him in and Mikelle (who came with us) informed me that he threw up all over the toys in the kids play area. It got on his clothes and they had to close off the play area and we stripped X-man down to a diaper.  

This is 2 months after being sick and throwing up the last time. Too soon kid. Too soon. A good rule of thumb for vomiting is to wait at least a year in between "incidents".

When we got into the pediatric dinosaur room (the prehistoric surroundings I painted for Dr. Lamb back in 2005...), a few minutes later he threw up again. This time I was prepared with the barf bag, but vomit is vomit.

My Poor Baby

And not to sound selfish, as I love my baby and I will do anything to take care of him and help him feel better, but if I come down with this stomach bug and it ruins Chris and I's night out tomorrow to see Wait Wait Don't Tell Me, I'm going to be exceptionally angry in ways that I cannot put to words. I've been waiting for years for them to come back to Phoenix and these tickets were bestowed upon me for Christmas (though I told Chris they don't count as a 2 for 1 for Valentines Day as well. We'll see how that goes...). Valentines Day is the day after the show and I'm perfectly fine with getting sick on Valentines if it means I'll be puke-free  for the show on Thursday.

I'm not exactly sure how to transition from vomit to hair, so I'll just keep going. 

Mikelle got a new haircut over the weekend after we went to my cousin's open house. After much pain and peril and angst, Mikelle and I finally agreed on a hair cut. She wanted something incredibly extreme (and way too short), and we were able to come to this compromise. Thank you, Georgia Cardwell, my cousin Brian's wife, for being the "good guy" outsider! When we got to the Open House earlier that day, Chris and I had been exhausted from the hair argument with Mikelle in the car on the way over. Thankfully Georgia became the "cool" adult outsider and sat with Mikelle and found some good compromises. Since Georgia wasn't Mikelle's lame "parent", it meant she might actually have wisdom and knowledge to offer. ;-) 

Mk didn't want me to be in the picture, so I asked her to show us the back so I could "take a picture" and I got in the pic instead. It's the "Mom Tax" teens have pay for us still smiling and not killing them...

My friend Charlie, whom I love (let me preface with that - between him and Deryl Lamb, they can both adopt me as the fathers I never had), tried to play the dude card and say that he was on Mikelle's side as far as the picture and that I shouldn't have been in it. "She's not an elk you bagged. If her friends think it's cute they'll tell her. If mom and mom's friends think it's cute, it's kind out of her world-bubble. You're in the decade of a million selfies but you'll get the finger everytime you try to take one of her. Nonetheless her hair is cute."  

Selfie, Charlie? Selfie? Sure, I'll take a "selfie" from time to time, but no more than I would have taken before it was a "trend". The Selfie trend is just....euuuw.

My reply to my wanna-be dad, Charlie: "Charlie, I was just trying to have some fun after the weeks of tug of war with the haircut argument. It wasn't about a "selfie" as I don't like that trend. It was about therapeutic goofing off. .......If I had to puke for 5 months straight and have to be hospitalized for a week at 8 weeks pregnant with the IV and injections and blah blah blah and then have to huge episiotomy due to vacuum and forceps after 2 hours of pushing, it certainly wasn't going to be all for nothing."

By the way...Yes, I "went there" with the episiotomy. You know what kind of episiotomy you end up with if your kid has be extracted from your body with a vacuum and forceps? And she wasn't even that big...7 pounds, 3 oz...she was just all wrapped up in the cord and "cokscrewed" in the birth canal. 

What does Mikelle's hair look like from the front? I would love to post those pictures. But I cannot begin to discuss the frustrations I'm having with this main computer at the house and the slowness and lagging. The next day we took some Valentines pictures - well, we attempted to. 

I'll post those pictures next. 

Plus, a girlfriend challenged me on a theme and concept for a new piece of artwork that I hope to have finished by Friday that I'm still feverishly working on . So stay-tuned. 


And please pray that no one else gets the pukes. Or if they do, they wait until AFTER Chris and I go to the show tomorrow night.