Eat: No, thank you.

 I wondered when it would happen. I looked forward to the first tooth, the first Christmas, the first word, but I have dreaded the first family shared vomiting illness for some time. Last week I was headed home on a Wednesday evening planning on having our regular hectic midweek evening. I was going to get home, have about 30 minutes to greet the hubby, give Lily a snack, get us dressed and get on the road to church. Then I would sing songs for 45 minutes with the adorable 2 year-old class and finally rest when we landed at a restaurant somewhere for our Wednesday night dinner out. As I drove along the highway mapping out the evening in my head, my phone rang. When I answered, I heard gagging and groans before my husband finally said, "Lily is vomiting." That simple statement was followed by more gagging and groans, none of which were Lily's. 

 

My poor husband. When I married him, I knew what I was signing up for. He made no secret of his aversion to blood, vomit and stench.  I remember the evening I sliced my finger while chopping some peppers and onions for shrimp creole. I asked him to run upstairs and grab a bandage, but when I looked behind me I realized he had seen a bit of the blood and was taking a seat before he fell backward on the tile. When we took our lamaze class, he was the guy who clenched his eyes shut during the mild, not at all graphic C-section video. The first trimester of pregnancy was harder on him that it was on me because honestly, hearing me vomit was harder on him than actually vomiting was on me. Now here he was, with a vomiting two year old, doing his best not to pass out or vomit on the child. 

 

When I arrived home, Doug looked sicker than Lily. He quickly volunteered to run to the store for Pedialyte and get anything else we might need. He needed the break, I could tell. When he made it home from the store, we began talking about what we needed to do about childcare the next day. I had a really important presentation the next day, and he said that he would stay home. What a guy! It was more than just him being willing to get behind at work so I didn't have to. He was signing up to spend the day with his greatest nightmare: a puking toddler. 

 

In the end, we all ended up with the virus. That's the reason I haven't blogged in a while.  I realized now that this virus thing taught me a few things. A toddler sitting in your lap will not warn you before puking. When your child goes to sleep at 7 instead of 10 she will wake up at 4:30 ready to play. Pedialyte does not taste as good as Gatorade. Women recover more quickly from bugs than men. A toddler will make a wreck of a house while her parents hug the toilet, leaving her unsupervised. Most importantly I learned, well, was reminded that I have a really sweet husband. :) I couldn't think of a better person to share a virus with.