Natalie woke up screaming at three in the morning on Friday.
She does that sometimes. I guess she has a nightmare or something so I’ll stumble in, assure her that everything is okay and then say that it’s time to go back to sleep.
Tom rarely hears it when Natalie cries. I think he’s going deaf. Because when Natalie started to wail on Saturday, he just rolled over. Sometimes I want to lean over and start wailing into his ear.
I forced myself out of bed and went to Natalie’s room. That’s when I realized she was making a horrible gagging noise.
I cannot deal with barf. I can deal with blow out poops any day….but barf? Not so much.
I watched in horror as Natalie spewed all over the carpet.
“Mommy!” she gasped in between retching. “I sicken! I SICKEN!”
I would have gathered her into my arms. But then she threw up down her front.
The smell was….let’s just say I was trying hard not to throw up myself.
I went over to Natalie, who was sobbing, and told her it was going to be okay.
“Mommy!” she wailed and then rushed into my arms, pressing last nights regurgitated dinner all over my front.
“It’ll be okay,” I said in a strangled voice. I was trying hard not to breathe.
“Mommy, I---” Natalie began and then a spew of throw up hit my shoulder.
“Okay, Linda Blair, let’s settle down,” I said, scooping her up. I rushed her into the bathroom.
Of course she didn’t throw up again though.
No, she had done that already all over her room. All over me.
I gave her a quick bath and then stripped her bed and cleaned up her floor.
Then I put her back to bed and took a quick shower.
When I climbed back into bed Tom was all, “What happened? What’s that smell?”
“Natalie threw up,” I explained.
Then he started snoring again.
The next morning Natalie was clearly out of it. Instead of racing around the room, she lounged on the couch. This is unthinkable for my children. My kids are always on the go. They rarely sit for long.
Natalie threw up a few more times. She said she was hungry for lunch so I fixed her a plate—and then she threw up all over it.
“I’m going to be sick,” Tom said, dropping the pizza he was about to eat.
He was still sitting there in horror until I shouted at him to “help clean up the puke, for God’s sake, don’t just SIT there…”
Natalie went to bed early and then woke up calling my name at two in the morning.
I braced myself for the vomit.
But thankfully there was none.
Natalie just wanted cold water and a diaper change.
On Saturday morning Natalie was a bit warm but she was behaving more like herself. She was racing around and getting into everything. Towards the end of the night I noticed that she crawled back on the couch and I thought she was feeling sick. I checked her temperature and it showed she was back to normal.
“Mommy. Want water with ice,” Natalie told me primly.
That was something I did for her when she was sick: I’d add an ice cube to keep it cold longer.
When I returned with Natalie’s ice water she went, “Want princess blanket.” So I got that for her.
Then she asked for her pillow.
And I started to wonder if she was pretending to feel sick…..
But then I felt guilty. Of course she was still sick.
But then again…..
She probably loved it when I babied her all day Friday. She could have thought, “Wait a minute. I don’t want to give that up. But if I pretend to be sick…”
On Sunday Natalie did the same thing. When I dared to give her plain water she went, “I want ice,” and handed her cup back.
I took her cup and bent down to her level. “You wouldn’t be pretending to be sick, would you?”
Natalie blinked sweetly at me. “Water. With ice.”
“Amber! Why are you just standing there? Our sick daughter asked for water with ice!” Tom’s voice rang out. He took the cup and gave me a dirty look. He was totally falling for it. Natalie is his little princess. His baby.
“She’s not sick anymore, Tom. Her temperature is normal. She’s been running around the house all day at top speed. She squeezed out the last of the toothpaste all over the bathroom. She’s faking it,” I explained as I walked into the kitchen.
(Further proof: this was Natalie on Sunday. In the background you can see the mess she’s made. PLUS she’s clomping around in her Daddy’s shoes...
“She is not! Look at her! She’s laying there all pathetic under her princess blanket,” Tom said. He walked back out with Natalie’s water. “Here you go, sweetie.”
Natalie took it. “Thank you, Daddy.” Then she gave me a Look that clearly said, “Mwahaha.”
She didn’t want dinner. She asked for ice cream.
“Okay,” Tom said.
“TOM! I tell you, she’s faking it!” I argued.
“She’s not. Look at her all pathetic under her princess blanket.”
Of course when I looked at her she gave me another “mwahaha” look.
I walked out and gave Natalie her ice cream. “I’m onto you,” I said.
Natalie grinned at me with ice cream dripping off her chin. “I yuv you,” she said.
I smiled back. “I yuv you, too, little faker…”