if the truth hurts

(This story might only make sense if you read the previous post - sorry for being a pain in the butt).  

Tank resurfaced at 3:20.  He looked like a truck ran over his face.  He told me he had been asleep since 12:30.  Uh oh.  I took his temp every 20 minutes.  He was supposed to babysit for Geraldine AGAIN that night directly from church, but this time just for the two boys.  He was going solo, and I had no one that could sub for him. 

As I waited for the temp to spike, I cut my pumpkin bread to bring to the Oireachtas party the girls and I were attending directly from church at 6:30.  Then I glued some stones on Curly's dancing dress.  We had to let the dress down for Too-Tall so there was a row with no stones.  All my years as a dance mom (a term I hate), I have never glued stones on a dress.  I was not sure I knew what I was doing, but rather than obsess over it, I dove in and I was done in under 10 minutes - without ruining the dress!

Not sure you can see the E600 glue
I had on my fingers, but
 happily it came off better than super glue.

I was washing the glue off of my hands when I heard the dreaded sound every (category #2 above) mother fears:  Tank was puking.  It was 4:45 and mass started at 5:00.

Me:  'Ef, ef, ef, ef ,ef''  You get the idea.

I texted Mini, who Coach was picking up from a group project and taking straight to church.  Ed is home from school, but he took Reg to a different travel game really far from home because the team needed Reg to play up.  I wondered if Mini would say she would babysit in Tank's place, but instead she had the brilliant idea of calling her BFF.  BFF agreed to sit for Tank.  

And a sigh goes up from the crowd.  'Ohh - pretty!' 
(and pricey and I will probably not be able to sell it
when she is ready for a different dress.  Have I
mentioned how much I adore Irish dancing?)

After mass, I texted Ed instructions to open windows, spray Lysol, and wipe down surfaces when he returned home from Reg's games.  After the party with the girls, I came home and found Coach sitting in his recliner.  He had gone to some of Reg's far away games after he taught his RE class.  I was anxious as a category #2 mom and asked him what he had cleaned and what Ed had cleaned.  He didn't know what Ed did.  Ed was now out with friends and he didn't respond to my text asking what else needed to be cleaned.  

My current besties.

I got busy cleaning and wiping stuff down while also sharing my frustration with Coach that he was just sitting there.  I wanted him on the same 'no germs allowed' plan as me!  I almost blew a gasket when he admitted that he let Reg go to bed in the room he shares with Tank, the one where Tank napped for 3 hours that day.  Coach got up and moved Reg into Lad's bed because Lad comes home on Tuesday.  If I am not home, why is no one required to utilize their brain cells?  

(Note:  Coach did text me the next day from Reg's OTHER travel games while I was jogging between Curly's dancing class, the store for vitamin water for Tank, the mall, and then Curly's travel b-ball game.  OK, not jogging, because the knee STILL SUCKS.  Anyway, he apologized for not finding out what Ed had cleaned and then cleaning the rest since he beat me home.  I know this text was sent because he wanted me to cut his hair.  And probably other hopes.)

I stayed up another hour and a half scrubbing and wiping and airing out the downstairs.  I sprayed Lysol in all the kids' rooms while they slept -which they sleepily scolded me for.  I went to bed and wondered if I missed anything.  Then I thought, 'Oh, I didn't wipe down the dishwasher handles.'  Rather than get out of bed and do that, I reminded myself that Reg would NEVER open the dishwasher.  

1. He would never voluntarily load something.  

2.  If there was nothing clean, he would go with a paper product.  

My house was in a bit of a shock.  Never had it been scrubbed so hard.  Multiple times in the same night.  You know the thought process that we are supposed to be exposed to some germs?  Well, typically I live by that motto.  My kids should have the most impressive resistance levels known to man.

As of Monday morning 11/25, no one else has gone down with the pukes.  Tank only got sick the one time.  I will deal with forever being labeled as 'dance mom' since I kept Curly out of school today (writing this Monday) and tomorrow.  If the truth hurts!

edited Thanksgiving night to add:  I kept Curly out of school Monday and Tuesday.  The preschool kid I sit for was not quite himself on Tuesday.  When the mom came to pick up his sister (he leaves after lunch on a bus for preschool), she told me that she had been called by the school to come get him. He had a fever and was throwing up, AND HAD BEEN IN MY HOUSE FOR THE ENTIRE MORNING WITH CURLY.  

I reassured myself that he was mostly in the basement in the morning while Curly was on the first floor.  We opened all the doors and windows and sprayed every room, and wiped everything down.  

Just before we left my sister's house tonight, Curly said her stomach hurt.  We assured her that she just overate - typical Thanksgiving ailment.  She came home and threw up 30 minutes later.  She felt SO much better-we decided she just had over eaten.

She threw up again around 9 pm, and then we knew the truth.  We leave tomorrow for Louisville.  I assured her she will feel fine by Sunday.  The question is will I get it or will Mini?  

As if I didn't already dread this weekend enough!