The Most Disgusting Thing Ever

Nothing tops a long hard day of Mommy-ing like vomit ALL OVER the kitchen table. In the middle of dinner.

And this is what happened.

I will openly admit that I intentionally included red peppers in our chicken and pasta dish. I added them at the last minute, so that the flavor would not infuse with the cream sauce.

In retrospect, I should have just used them as a garnish for those adults who wished to partake, but alas, I did not.

I told all of the kids to simply place the offensive vegetable to the side of their plate and not bother with them any further. However, 'A' (my oldest) came up with a fateful plan. She asked for some dessert, in exchange for her consumption of red peppers.

I agreed to the deal.

She nervously ate them, claimed with relief that they weren't too bad, so I told her she could have an ice cream bar. 'Z' (my youngest) asked if he could have a bar if he just ate one pepper. Though 'A' thought he should have to digest all peppers on his plate, I agreed to his terms. He ate one bite, earning his ice cream.

Then 'N' (the middle child) decided that he did not want to be left out of delicious dessert-ing, so he opened wide to eat his one bite. No more than 30 seconds lapsed before he vomited - the entire contents of his stomach - on to the kitchen table, completely filling his own plate and liberally splattering everyone else's . He then angrily bawled "that was the most disgusting thing I ever put in my mouth".

Apparently he does not care for red peppers.

The weird thing is, and I quote, "the most disgusting ever"?

I am talking about the kid who one day in church was licking the bottom of his shoe.
The same kid who tasted his own ear wax to see if it was a similar flavor to snot.
This child has scraped ABC gum off of a metal railing - with his teeth.
I have dragged him, as he kicked and screamed, from where he was sampling a pile of cotton candy that was on the ground. It looked as though the sugary treat had been there for some time as it had been melted by the sun. And driven over multiple times.

But a quarter inch square piece of red pepper?

Yeah, THAT is disgusting.

He did not get dessert.

And I cleaned the table.

When I needed It Most...

In the past seven years, we have moved from Utah to California, within California, back to Utah, and now to Virginia.  That is five locations for anyone who was counting.  Yesterday I was thinking about our nomadic tendencies and realized that though we have met many fantastic people in each location, and learned many great things from our experiences, each move has one crummy thing in common.  With each uprooting I have lost my support network, and upon arrival in a new location, it takes time to develop a new one.

I was thinking about this yesterday because I had the flu.  It was not a mild case.  It was an entirely disabling-Exorcist like-can I even crawl into the bathroom before I loose it- kind of case.  (Though still coming in second to a certain airplane bathroom incident.)  So as I lay on the bathroom floor, lacking energy to crawl back to bed after cleaning the commode - again - wishing that the Hub was not out of town - again- I started to feel sorry for myself.  I missed my friends who I could call at a moments notice to come and get my kids.  I missed my mom and sisters, who would have cleaned my bathroom for me, taken the kids for the night, or even stayed to keep me company in my commiserative state.  

I haven't been here long enough to develop that kind of a network.  The kind that I can rely on for anything.  I thought of a few people I could call, that would have probably helped, but I didn't have the energy to go downstairs and find the ward directory.  So I just felt more sorry for myself, that I don't know anyone well enough to have their phone number memorized.  

I also felt sorry for Z, who had eaten a half a loaf of bread (his sustenance of choice when I feebly told him to find something to eat) and watched Scooby Doo all day long, though he wasn't complaining.  When A and N finally got home from school I was in bad shape, wishing that I could send them all somewhere, tearfully missing my network.

And guess what?  As soon as they realized that I was sick my children magically metamorphasized from my usually needy, often whiny, occasionally screaming pack of three to my own little network of support.  I suddenly had three little mother hen's checking in on me, bringing me water (which I promptly threw up), feeling my forehead,  and smoothing my blankets.  I should note that N and A did most of the 'work' while Z lurked in the background saying "don't touch me with your sick germs."  To hit credit, he is only 4 - and has inherited his father's germ-o-phobia.  

And so - I tell you this tale - not to gain your sympathy - but to tell you about my great network of support.  A ended up at a friends house for the evening, so N poured he and Z a bowl of cold cereal for dinner - AND he put the dishes in the washer.  He supervised teeth brushing (which surely was done within the range of poor to mediocre, but I let it go for one night).  He brought Z into my room for prayers, offered to say them, and prayed fervently that I would feel better.  He read Z a book, tucked him into bed, then went to bed himself.  When A got home, she locked up the house, cleaned the kids bathroom sink (a task often necessary after the boys brush their teeth), came to my room for her prayers (more fervent requests for my restored health), and put herself to bed.      

Today, I am feeling better, not 100%, but I can tell that there is hope.  And I am sure that before long I will be refereeing a screaming match between two of the three kids, reminding them to use their 'nice words and nice voices', and repeatedly uttering a combination of the phrases - 'stop it' - 'knock it off' - or 'how about we all spend a quiet hour in our separate rooms'.  Some of them will cry, all of them will whine, no one will do what I ask until I threaten punishment and feel like pulling my hair out at the roots....but they can't fool me anymore.

I know their true nature.  When push comes to shove - they are my support network.  And that won't change - no matter how many times we move.  

The Disgusting 'Facts' of Life:

So thanks to Jamie Lynn Spears' incredibly publicized teen pregnancy, and the ensuing playground gossip of her tabooed behavior I had to have 'the talk' with N. Ugh. After finishing up with the basics, he had only one question: "So when I'm all big and hairy down there - that's when I have to do it?"

The next night however, after processing the information, he had a few personal insights:

"You said it was a way married people show they love each other. I think it is the way married people show each other how disgusting they are."

"Is that thing disgusting and violent, or just disgusting?"

"If I got shot while I was doing that thing would it be violent then?"

"When Dad was disgusting it's too bad he didn't pick my egg first - then I would be the oldest."

"What house did you and Dad live in when you did that disgusting thing that made me?"

"Do I do it at my party when I get married - oh wait - I better not do it at the party - I don't want people to know that I am disgusting."

I was in physical pain - trying to control the hysterical laughter that threatened to erupt with each comment or question. Needless, to say, my feeling that he was not mature enough to handle the facts of life was dead on. If not for some choice information being shared during recess I could have put it off for a while. D@#% that Jamie Lynn Spears.