Wednesday 13 March 2013

It's like having a crystal ball

This last few days I have experienced the horror that is having poorly triplets and being poorly myself. The little 'darlings' cry, sneeze, cough, whine and sleep, while mama does all of that (minus the sleeping) while having to juggle three babies and wanting to die.
Sure all we've had this time is the flu, the horrible, debilitating, head-aching flu, but it's made me realise an either greater horror hanging over the horizon.

Just wait until they bring a sickness and diarrhoea bug home with them.....in triplicate.

Oh the horror!
This makes me shiver to my very bones and makes me want to dig out my passport and move far, far away. I can see rooms strewn with vomit soaked rags, bins filled with exploded nappies, and me, having to wrangle three crying children while throwing my own guts up. Oh the horror of it all!

I only hope that they are of 'an age' where I can tell them to throw up in a bucket and they do so, not of the age where they throw up in whatever direction they seem to be staring in at that moment. And god forbid they move their heads in the process.

And I only have one toilet....what happens when all three of them have diarrhoea ...is someone going to go in the SINK? I suppose that's better than the carpet but still, it's the SINK! That's not going to flush!

I have vague memories of being ill as a child, and just as I recover my mum ends up in bed with whatever lergie I brought home with me. I don't know how she did it. Sure actually clearing up babies sick or poopie bothers me not one iota - provided it's from my own kid. Not one little bit. There is this marvellous in-built design that as mama, your stomach doesn't turn at the sight of poopie.....because you are going to see a lot of poopie. A LOT OF POOPIE.

Sometimes it will be hilarious (Gaius projectile pooped all over his incubator and all I could do was stand there and laugh) and some will be less hilarious (Pulling lodged poopie out of Ayla's bum with a baby wipe while praying she doesn't follow through onto my face)*

I guess we just have to put our heads down, grit our teeth and get through it....and hope that dada doesn't get infected so he can take care of the rest of us.

*I realise they are going to kill me when they are older for writing this.

No comments:

Post a Comment