I'm kicking ass halfway through week two Sans Nanny. And this morning I was admiring my efforts as to how wonderful it would seem that my two, beautiful darling children were actually playing together. Isaac in the Baby Einstein, Noah showing him the toys around the edge.
And then it happened.
Isaac threw up. Nothing new of course, we're renaming him to Grabby McBarf-Bag.
Unfortunately, it turns out that Noah can't stomach seeing people being sick. So he also threw up. All over himself. And the floor. And the Baby Einstein. ...And Isaac.
And Isaac has done something to me since I was pregnant with him; I can no longer tolerate barf inducing sights and smells. So I'm cleaning up two barf-covered children, screaming at Noah to STAY THE HELL AWAY NO MAMA DOES NOT WANT YOU TO HELP CLEAN UP FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT WALK IN THE SICK RIGHT NOW PLEASE EVER, whilst willing myself to NOT join in the trend set by Grabby McB-B and start my own technicolour yawning. Noah decided to stand and watch In The Night Garden in his nappy.
He's a lovely kid, but you know, sometimes, he needs to be a little less helpful.
But that's ok, because you know, one minor setback for the day is fine, I can deal. I've only got a few days til I've got help again, and look at me! I'm coping like a real mom!
That was, until Noah went down for his nap and was still awake one and a half hours later. I gave up putting him back in his bed, because between trying to eat my lunch, answering the doorbell and trying to feed Isaac (thank GOD my mother was around to help look after him), going up and down the stairs repeatedly was getting quite dull, especially after the 5th time.
But, it's ok, because he eventually went to sleep.
I hasten to add I did leave the gate shut, and opened it when I went upstairs, to find him on the floor with his two burpees and spare dummy. Hey, don't knock the kid, he wins points for being fully equipped and prepared.
I get back to my lunch, which is semi-cold and manage to kick my drink over. By this point, the carpet now smells like sick, orange juice and lemonade. Oh, and Vanish and Febreeze, in my desperate attempt to clean it a bit.
I'm obviously proud of my form by this point.
Isaac finally gets plonked on the boob, for a feed whereby he sees just how far my nipple can travel with it still in his mouth; he got it to a 45 degree angle at one point, he was doing quite well. Then the doorbell rings while I'm feeding and you'd think by now I wouldn't be so dumb as to interrupt a feed to get it.
But noooooooo. Isaac is very nearly dropped on the floor (my nipple still in his mouth), I deal with the delivery man at the door, to turn around and hear Noah crying (45 minutes before he's due to get up) and to find Isaac covered in sick on the floor.
I believe Isaac's face after his bath was rudely interrupted last night, pretty much sums it all up.