Thursday, May 19, 2016

That Waitress Deserved a Bigger Tip...

This blog has been pretty neglected... I don't mean to.  I have intentions of writing more, but most days I just feel like everything is... ordinary and not particularly interesting.  Plus, most evenings my brain just wants to shut off, watch some Grey's Anatomy and drink a glass a wine.  

Today is turning out not to be one of those days...

Let me set the scene.  I've been solo parenting this week, so I took today to be "kid free" and get some errands run and recharge a bit.  I dropped the kids off at their old day care and did what needed to be done.  Fast forward eight hours or so, I head back to pick them up.  It's rush hour by that time, so I decided to take the kids out to dinner and wait out the traffic.

We head over to Applebee's because I know that a) there is rarely a wait for a table, b) it's never too crowded so I doubt loud kids will annoy too many people, and c) they have "low cal" menu options for me... and d) I like to be waited on when I have the chance to be.  =)

Our waitress gave me a knowing smirk when we were seated and asked if I wanted a margarita.... really wish now that I would have taken her up on that.

We got our drinks, ordered our food, and everyone, for the most part, was doing a-okay.  I was actually starting to pat myself on the back a bit at how smoothly the evening in a restaurant, with two kid, by myself was actually going.

Our waitress brought us out our food, and Emily proceeded to pull the corn off her dog in her usual way, when Sam started to make a noise.  I look over at him, not yet taking a bit of my own dinner, and see that he his puking.  A lot.  All over the place.

His high chair, his clothes, the carpet beneath his chair... all covered in yogurt-y looking vomit. Tinged, I'm sure, but the milk that he was sipping on prior to the incident.  Quickly I get a server's attention, tell her that we need to go containers and that he had just been sick.  Containers and a wet rag swiftly appeared at our table.  I sat there, trying to figure out how to get my son cleaned up, with his bile already on my hands, and somehow get our food packed up... thankfully I had a lot of hand sanitizer in the diaper bag, and a 4 year old that was willing to help (though her idea of packing up her yogurt also included stealing the serving dish that it was presented in. lol).

Finally I got the bill paid, both kids and food out to the car.  Sam got a quick change of clothes, and a prayer that he wouldn't throw up on the way home.  For the next 30+ minutes I sat in (not horrible, thank God) traffic with the scent of puke and Applebee's take out wafting through our car.

Getting home, Emily had fallen asleep.  She can be... challenging... to wake up, and tonight was no different.  I finally got her on her feet, and when to get Sam and our food.  Thankfully nothing extra had occurred.

Everyone got inside, I set our food down on the kitchen counter, and Sam started to heave again.  I tried to hold him over the kitchen sink, but he wanted nothing to do with that... he wanted to bury his face in my warm sweater and empty his stomach.

When he was done, I asked Emily to get herself a spoon so that she could finish her dinner, and I took Sam upstairs to give him a quick bath.  I got him in the tub (and sat there with him, topless, with my now-disgusting sweater thankfully removed) and he acted like nothing was amiss.  Like, "yeah!  I love baths!"  I really don't understand kids sometimes.  After a few minutes he stood up, said, "All Done", and I wrapped him up in a big towel, got him into his jammies, read him a book and put an almost-passed-out little man to bed.

I came downstairs to clean up and check on Emily, and found this...

She got the spoon that I told her to...

So, I cleaned up some puke, got the gross clothes from the car (how do I get that smell out?) and started a load of laundry.  Then I carried Emily upstairs and put her to bed.  Generally, both kids in bed and asleep before 8:00 would be cause for celebration... but currently I'm just worried.  Sam has already woken up once heaving.  Not sure what the rest of the night is going to bring.

I've washed/sanitized my hands about a dozen times so far... I can't get sick.  I'm photographing someone's wedding this weekend... I can NOT get sick...

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