Thanksgiving Eve was the worst night ever for the Manning family. It was horrible, horrendous, absolutely terrible. It all began Wednesday afternoon when A threw up. Then he did it again a couple hours later. Oh no. It was already not fun. J was the next to lose her dinner. After getting her cleaned up and back to bed, there was about a 30 minute break before M woke me up crying. I ran to her, anticipating the worst, but it was beyond that. She was covered in puke. I quickly picked her up out of bed and told her to run to the bathroom. She cried back, "I can't Mom! It's all over my hands! I can't walk!" Oh boy.
She started the trek down the ceramic tile hallway, spewing as she walked when I heard my Mom coming to the rescue. Just as she hit the hallway I said, "Be careful! Don't step in ..." Oops. Her brakes were delayed as her foot landed right in the middle of a wet mess, and down she went. Thankfully she was able to ride the slide into the wall, not harming herself. Then Andy walks out of the bedroom asking, "Did someone fall out here?"
Wow - if ever I needed a dream team of three, it was then. Mom went to be with M, giving her a bath. Andy tackled the floor with Clorox wipes while I stripped and remade the bed.
But we weren't done yet. We were all back in bed when J started her second round. Here we go again. Then after getting her cleaned up and back in bed, E decided she needed to know what all the excitement was about. It was 2 AM, and she was wide awake. We rocked and played until I just couldn't take it anymore. (It didn't take long.) Thankfully she went right down when I returned her to the crib. Finally, some rest.
So what did I do for Thanksgiving this year? Laundry. All day long. Laundry.
