It's Sick When They Slip in Their Own Sick

Vomitrocious. That sums up my morning so far. All rushing slow as snails children off to kindergarten after locating their misplaced, muddied shoes and picking up little ones who slipped in their own sick. Oh, and near-miss potty training little pigtailed girls who are obsessed with practicing how to pull their fancy, new My Little Pony undies up and down.

Poor Moody Cheeks McGee, my sensitive little three-year-old middle-child. He projectile vomited all over the (freshly mopped but who cares) kitchen floor and all over his bare Fred Flintstone feet on his way to breakfast this morning.

Now I think I know why he was so unusually quiet and inanimate for the bulk of yesterday.

I wish I could scoop him up and heal him in an instant with some magnificent wonder elixir (Pepto, perhaps?) because we had a mui importante full docket today, with a twice rescheduled well-check at the doctor's for Cheeks' 2-year-old sister and a long scheduled appointment with a pediatric allergist to try to get to the bottom of Cheeks' constantly runny nose, puffy, itchy eyes and hive prone skin.

Decisions, decisions. I might play the hard-ass mama card and drag my poor little sickie out the door, into the van and toward his sister's vaccination spiked appointment and his hopefully allergy pin-pointing specialist visit. At least Cheeks won't have to go to preschool today. I'm not that mean.

Also, my parents-in-law are somewhere in the clouds over the Atlantic Ocean right now on their way here for Christmas holiday. I expect them to roll into town around dinner time. By then I aimed to have the house clean and somewhat organized. Fat chance.

Here are my unrealistic, deep in denial of vomitous illness in my brood and house hopes: Cheeks' morning up-chuck of last night's carrots and broccoli (yay, the boy LOVES veggies) was an isolated incident likely attributed to swallowing post nasal drip. He sneezed a few tablespoons of thick chartreuse mucus all over the bathroom counter and floor this morning just before puking (are you sick yet from my gross TMI check? Sorry) and probably had a fair bit of the viscous nastiness churning and curdling in his empty morning belly. So, maybe it's not the flu at all. Nope. No flu. Banish the thought.

We're still going to take on the day (and all its doctor visit copays) as planned, minus the preschool part.

Scratch that. Cheeks' just dry heaved. At least it was dry, but for how long?