Who does that?

*FYI: If throw up grosses you out, read no further.*

Last week in the wee hours of the morning our Gracie girl had a case of the nasty throw ups. THANK THE GOOD GOD my husband took care of it, as of we have a nonverbal (now written) agreement that I get up with our babies ever 3 hours throughout the night (night after night after night-- yes, looking for some sympathy sighs) and he gets up with any of the biggers whenever they randomly awake from their slumber.

So, as Matt was rushing out to work this particular morning and I was still clearing the sleep from my eyes trying to take a gulp of my coffee with 3 kids fighting for my lap, he gave me a 10 second recap of the disgusting 3am throw up experience with our Gracie. I thought to myself: "Wow. What a man. He took care of everything as I slept blissfully for my 3 hour spread and had no clue of the on goings. I really married up! "

But...
As the day went on and I continued to wake up, the reality of "he had completely taken care of everything" seemed to be a dream that was fading quickly away. Slowly I began to discover traces of Grace's digested remnants EVER Y WHERE...

First, I went to change the wash and as I am transferring wet clothes to the dryer, I discover a thick layer of dried regurgitated food all along the outside edge of the washer and embedded into each piece of clothing. Seriously, who doesn't scrub off puke from clothing before putting it into the wash! But, the nice loving non judging person that I am, I simply cleaned it up and went on with my daily happenings.

2 of my daily happenings :).

Later while Grace was playing dress up and Hope was sucking on every toy connected to her exersauser, I took a looksy in our utility sink (where our dirty laundry was calling my name)
and there I found blankets upon blankets thickly covered in dried pieces of Graces vomit. Again, my mind went to the place of: "Really? Who does THAT?? Who leaves that type of spewed content on clothes and blankets where it just dries into hard crusted, nearly impossible pieces to get off!"

But once again, I peeled my brain out of that not so nice place and simply closed my eyes as I scrubbed off crusted throw up, disinfected everything, ran the washer again, washed my hands and went on keeping on.

Hope loves this contraption.

Then...
As I went to put Grace down for her beloved nap, I looked over at a discolored and faded red pillow that belongs on our living room couch, which the kids love to sneak into their beds to sleep with. As I took a closer look, I nearly cried out: "Are you freakin kidding me!!" But I contained myself because Grace was right smack next to my person. Instead, closing my eyes for a brief moment to scream some not so nice words in my head, I pulled myself together and took the saturated pillow, soaked in Graces digested and then thrown up dinner, lunch, and breakfast from the day before, and headed to the utility sink.

Talk ABOUT Disgusting.

I took a sponge and scrubbed that thing down, washing my hands every 30 seconds and then ran it through the washer machine. Next, my eyes now WIDE open to the situation at hand, I proceeded to Graces room to scrub her bed, her toys in her bed, and anything near by, because by this time I realized that my wonderful husband did NOT "completely take care of everything".

Later as Grace was blissfully sleeping (or playing with her toys, same thing) and I sat on the couch nursing Hope, the repeat button in my brain was playing this again and again: "Who does that...Seriously who does that?"

The end.



Ps. I do have to say though, throw up aside, I really did marry up. Just tonight at 9pm per my whim of a request-- This man (bachelor anyone??) "who does that" ran out to the store to grab me a bottle of skinny girl margarita and then came home and made me my favorite comfort pasta dish (all within my weight watcher points of course), serving me hand and foot while I simply sat on the couch holding my sweet Hopie girl.

Now who does THAT... my husband :).