Sick

My kids are sick.


So far this week, three four out of my seven kids have used the "throw up bucket."

We have a "throw up bucket" in our house, much to my husband's annoyance.

He thinks a "throw up bucket" should not exist in our home.

He thinks that the kids should be able to sense when something is wrong
and hightail it to the toilet.

He thinks that a "throw up bucket" creates lazy kids.

He has never cleaned throw up out of the carpet in the middle of the night.

He does not get a vote.

Therefore we have a "throw-up" bucket.

The other night Kal was sick and called dibs on the bucket saying...
"I get the bucket after Wade!"

My theory is that I prefer the kids to stay where they are and have an area of containment rather than have them run for the bathroom and be sick in their room, the hall, my room, back in the hall and then all over the bathroom. (yes, I speak from experience.)

I am not squeamish,
my mom once told me not to worry about getting dirty,
that anything will wash off your hands.

And I have a small confession;

Besides the "heaving"....I like having sick kids.

There I said it.



Nothing serious, not swine flu or strep throat or pneumonia...of course.

Just the 24 hour bug where we declare a sick day and my kids are on the couch, just out of the bath,with sleepy eyes, a warm forehead, sipping Sprite and are content to just lay there holding "buckety".


It makes me feel needed.
(in a non-"mom, I need a science project...
mom, I need some clean socks"...kind of way.)

I enjoy having an excuse for a backed up laundry pile and enjoy having a reason to lay curled up on the couch and hold them while we watch Spongebob together.

I'm just asking for it, aren't I.


The other day, Thanksgiving day in fact...

Just as I was in panic mode trying to get dinner ready,

Lauren called to me from my room.

"Mom, come here...fast!"  That last word made me run.

I ran up the stairs to find her bracing herself in my dooryway standing awkwardly and looking down at her foot.

A big shard of glass was sticking out.  My knees buckled as I said..."what in the world..?!"

As we helped Lauren to her bed she explained that she was walking by a bag on the floor
not knowing it had a broken glass frame in it and for some reason...decided to kick it.



The glass went in the bottom of her foot, through her toes and out the top.



After a few minutes of excitement and waiting for Dean to get home,
It was decided to take Lauren to the Emergency room.





So after a little reassuring hug to River who was crying harder than Lauren,

Dean swooped Lauren up in his arms and carried her out to the car.



Seeing Lauren like that, with tears in her eyes...a little scared and vulnerable, reminded me of when she was just a little girl. So small, helpless and dependant on me.



I kind of enjoyed it.



Every once in a while I enjoy being nurse Roberts to tame, docile children.
Come on now...all you moms out there...I can't be the only one who feels this way.

Gulp. Maybe I am.

Who's the sicko now, you ask?

(And yes, I took pictures so I could blog about it later. Yep, definitely a sicko.)