I ended up making it to work yesterday - Joey bit the bullet and got Monkey Man duty, which was a good thing because we had a horrible night Thursday night. Basically, long story short, was he has such severe sinus congestion that he would cough and his nose would gush blood. This went on all night long, and we were all exhausted. So I dragged myself into work and hopefully only made mistakes worth a few thousand dollars. That would be a good day after a night like that.
He seemed like he was doing a lot better. Hell, he slept 10 hours last night without a single cough or bloody nose. It was like nirvana.
I woke up this morning and the first thing that hit me was I had this strange feeling. I call it "mommy gut." You know that something is going to go wrong, you can't quite put your finger on it, but you can't shake that feeling. I told Joey about it and he laughed. I told Mer about it and I told her I was sure that I was just trying to talk myself out of going out with the Badasses tonight since I wasn't really that excited about it.
When Monkey Man got up this morning, he was doing pretty well. He had a good attitude and seemed like he felt better than he had in days. The carpet cleaning people showed up around lunchtime and the boys went outside to entertain themselves while I set up camp at the kitchen table and worked on heating up leftovers for lunch. About 20 minutes later, Joey came hobbling up the deck stairs - he had pulled something in his back poking around in the woods on our property, and Monkey Man was tenderly stroking his poor Daddy Dad's back. Such a good kid.
After the carpet people left (and by the way it was worth every freaking penny, the carpets look and smell incredible) I spent time wiping everything down, dusting places that hadn't been dusted in a while, and general housecleaning. Monkey Man hunkered down on the couch and was uncharacteristically quiet...typically there is a running monologue about all things like dinosaurs and Pop Tarts. I jumped in the shower and as I was doing my post-shower ritual he came into our bathroom and said his stomach hurt.
Uh oh. You know what this means.
So he had two trips to the potty. I figured maybe some of the meds he's been on have been constipating him or something, and he said his tummy felt better. I finished getting ready and went into the kitchen to get my handbag organized with such essentials as a mini-umbrella and breath mints.
And just as I'm ready to walk out the door, he calmly walked into the powder room and proceeded to vomit into the toilet. A lot.
Great. So much for me being the one to vomit tonight.
So I'm home with a crippled husband and a kid who has made multiple potty trips. Not exactly the Saturday night I had planned. Joey insisted that I go anyway, but there was no freaking way that I was going to leave him with a hurt back to take care of a kid who has it coming out of both ends.
And in the end, Mommy Gut triumphs again. Sigh.