and so that was Christmas.

I thought I was doing a decent job yesterday of not completely wallowing in a vat of self pity with Simon at work on Christmas, the kids pressing on with their usual stream of needs and not being around any of my family or Simon's family for Christmas. Julia and Sebastian were in great spirits, we did get to see Simon for Mass and breakfast and the drive to and from the hospital was completely bearable ... Christmas miracles abounding!

Then I put Julia down for her afternoon nap at the usual time of 2:00. She generally goes down without complaint but about ten minutes into the nap she started crying and so I let her cry ... and cry .... and cry ... for a long time. I'm a mean mom and I figured she was just being stubborn so I turned off the baby monitor upstairs and fed Sebastian. She finally settled down but started right back up again once she heard me walking around downstairs so I caved and went in to get her (it was Christmas ... after all!).

When people say, "I/he/she was throwing up e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e" it kind of sounds like a bit of a stretch or an exaggeration but I can say without fear of truth stretching that Julia was throwing up e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e (don't worry ... I'm stilling wearing a scarlet G for guilt on my chest today). It was all over her crib, crusted in her hair and she was still throwing up when I went to get her.  I won't go into gorier details than I already have but the vomfest continued as I tried to bathe and change her. She eventually stopped and seemed content to drink some juice and toddle around while I fed Sebastian upstairs.

Then the real fun began. I gathered up the laptop, Sebastian and Julia and was walking downstairs when Julia restarted throwing up all over me and a fussy Sebastian. Ahhh...what to do what to do? Rest Sebastian on a stair and make a bowl out of my hands? too dangerous. Redirect her face to not soil Sebastian's church clothes? too mean.  Use my third hand to call Simon and demand he race home? too impossible. 

I'm convinced it was divine intervention but at that very moment a fellow resident family unexpectedly knocked on the door with dinner.  Miracle!!!! They were able to hold Sebastian while I helped Julia continue to empty her little system and help me clean the bedding, rugs and floors ... and keep us company until Simon got home. The day was salvaged as Simon didn't have to eat cafeteria food for the 57th day in a row and Julia was thrilled that her house was occupied by people other than her boring brother and annoying mother.

So that was Christmas. Any and all pity parties I had planned on throwing were redirected to be in poor Julia's honor and Sebastian is only suffering from a mild case of PTSD. 

We had a little encore this morning but she seems to be doing a lot better now. And Sebastian wanted in on the gross action so he peed a direct (impressive) stream right into his open and smiling mouth mid-diaper change while I was tending to a fallen down and crying Julia this morn. Disgusting. I made him gargle ... don't worry. 

Simon will finally have a day off tomorrow and I might just keel over from excitement. Not a joke.

Merry Boxing Day.