Murphy hates moms

Murphy hates moms. I have always thought this and this past week I have had further proof to cement my theory. My husband had work in Africa and would be away for two weeks, so I had been solo parenting my three year old and 11 month old. The first week went smoothly, We had no sick kids, we managed to have early nights, calm bath times and few tantrums. In fact, it went so smoothly that I felt confident enough to say it aloud. I actually said the words “this week has been great, I’ve had no problems at all!”

Rookie mistake. Murphy was listening. Have I mentioned how much I hate that guy?

On Sunday morning my three year old woke up coughing terribly. She was blocked up, coughing and just generally unhappy with life. A few hours into the day the baby started with the same symptoms.  Two kids with blocked noses, hacking coughs and awful grumps. Tantrums and tears followed us around all morning. By midday I decided to do what any self-respecting, desperate mother would do. I insisted on a family nap-more for my benefit then anyone else’s.

Unexpected turns

I gave my toddler a bottle of tea and we all snuggled down into our family bed. I was breastfeeding the baby to sleep when my eldest sat up and spectacularly vomited all over me, herself and the bed. I hissed at her (as quietly and urgently as possible, so as to not wake the still latched and sleeping baby) to run to the toilet. She was then sick on the bed again on her way to the bathroom and all over the bathroom when she got there. Everywhere except the toilet.

I meanwhile tried to gently disentangle myself from the baby so that I could get to the bathroom to manage the situation. This didn’t work and the baby woke up with a wail. Lily was now sitting in the splattered bathroom sobbing, and the baby is crying on the bed.

"...I surveyed the destruction. Both children were covered in vomit, I was covered in vomit..."

I am covered in vomit and standing halfway between the bathroom and bedroom, trying to decide what to do. So I scoop up the baby and plonk her on the floor of the bathroom (so that she doesn’t fall off the bed and add a whole different emergency to the already insane crisis). She then promptly crawled in the puddle in the middle of the bathroom (another rookie mistake). At this point I had to pep talk myself into not crying. Grab baby and shut her in the shower (I will be collecting my mother of the year award later this month).

Then I kind of just stood there and surveyed the destruction. Both children were covered in vomit. I was covered in vomit. Lily was still sitting on the toilet crying. The baby was now attacking the shampoos in the shower. And I was still facing a week of solo parenting.

My one thought? Screw you, Murphy, and my stupid big mouth!

What’s been your worst parenting day so far?
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