Vomitorium Update - RR's Wee Children (Finally) Ceased Puking, Thanks for Asking
Ai-yi-yi. The wee child began the day by vomiting not-so-quietly all over her crib, crawling into bed with us and repeating the performance in our bed. By the time the wee child and her assorted bed clothing were straightened out, it was time to go feed the herd.
And, indeed, we now have a HERD! This morning was Day 1 with THREE, count 'em THREE horses on the property. Although, if one were to be technically accurate, we have two ponies and one horse. When the real, actual horse, a lovely retired TB, arrived yesterday, a couple of the assorted folk who hang out around here happened to be hanging around, and one of them said, "Hey, that actually looks like a real horse!"
Yes, cute ponies, we have, actual real horses have been in short supply.
So off I went this morning down to my barn to sort through the personalities and figure out who needed to eat where so as to reduce the incidence of violence. Sadly, it turns out that the $700 Pony -- a creature who has been living here alone for the duration of the summer -- a creature who I expected to turn herself inside out for joy upon the arrival of the Wee Spotted Pony (who showed up last Thursday and is ostensibly for my wee children - hahahahahahahaha) -- DID in fact turn herself inside out -- trying to stomp his little wee-ness.
And the older retired horse, well, let's just say that he is quick on his feet and for this I am grateful. Bad $700 Pony, bad $700 Pony! She has recovered from the trauma of last weekend's leap out of the paddock and had healed quite enough from her stitches for me to compete her this weekend (some good, some bad, but not really where we are going with this story), but I have to say I am a little disappointed in her lack of welcome to these new equine friends.
Anyway, by the time I got them all sorted out and got back to the house, Mr. RR was very, very glad to see me. Handling blech-y things is not his forte, and the weest child was now not-so-quietly vomiting all over our kitchen. he hightailed it out of there right quick upon my arrival, off to move the haywagons to their winter home. I heard the roar of the ATV go down the driveway as I was mopping up the last bit of gore from the floor. Luckily, I deal with chickens on a daily basis, not to mention wee child diapers, so I'm a fairly good person to have around in a crisis - I don't flinch at much.
I was keeping myself busy getting loads of laundry going and trailing around after the wee child with a mop when I heard the kitchen door open, and then the words ever wife dreads to hear, "Hon, could you come here for a minute?" And there stood Mr. RR, one hand on his head. Or, at least I think it was one hand -- kind of hard to tell through all the blood.
Long story short, the ATV was not the appropriate vehicle to bring the haywagon down the hill.
Being good in a crisis, I grabbed some absorbant towels and quick replaced his non-absorbant hand with the absorbant towels - then ran for the first aid kit. I got him settled on the couch, with the two wee children watching wide eyed, as I scrubbed up at the sink, prepped the scrub water and prepared to scrub his head to assess the damage.
Mr. RR looked pretty pale through all of this. There are several incidents in his history that involve what might be described as less than stellar performance at the sight of blood - mostly related to childbirth, so I was quietly talking him through the whole thing, trying to keep the blood from dripping into his eyes and possibly resulting in his losing consciousness.
All the while keeping the wee children entertained by relating the scrubbing out of daddy's wound with the scrubbing out of the $700 Pony's knee the previous weekend. They were lucky enough to not only witness Mommys scrubbing the knee, but there were also there for the vet's sewing the wound up, so the wee one's have had quite the eductation.
Anyway, at some point during all of this, wee one the Younger crawled into Daddy's lap and promptly threw up on him. Trying to maintain some kind of sterile environment was just getting really hard.
When I finally got down to the actual wound, the conversation went something like this:
ME: "Hmmmm. Interesting."
Mr. RR: "What, what? What's it look like?"
ME: "Looks like you dropped a haywagon on your head."
Mr. RR: "Ha. Ha. Do I need stitches?"
ME: "Well, I'm not doctor..."
Mr. RR: "You got it on the money with that Pony last weekend."
And, indeed, seven it was.
We dragged the vomiting child as well as the not-yet-but-surely-soon-to-be vomiting child to the local ER and seven stitches and about an hour later, Mr. RR took the tractor out to untangle the ATV and the haywagon. It was a little anticlimactic for the wee ones, though, as they were hugely disappointed that they couldn't watch the doctor stitch up daddy.
Update next week when I take the stitches out for him.
Last edited by Reynard Ridge; Oct. 30, 2006 at 07:56 PM.
Not laughing at you RR....laughing with you!!! Honest!! I LOVE your posts...makes me feel as though my life has not been some punishment for all my deeds from the past!! There are actually other people out there who are being punished for my deeds!! My last child is suppose to leave the nest by the end of the year....HURRAY....I survived!!! You will too, hopefully, but you're going to have a few more years a fun....sorry, really hate to dirty up those rose colored glasses!! But I still haven't figured out what to do with the hubby?!?!?!?!
Thank you for the much-needed laugh. Mr. ASB has been less than stellar company today while trying to install crown molding in the living room. You almost made me wish I was there helping with the Not-So-Wee-Vomit
RR, my cat (who earlier today climbed into my bed and hucked up a hairball, so I sympathize with your difficulties with the vomiting wee one) is now quite furious with you. All a cat wants after dinner is a nice warm lap to sleep on--and you've made the nice warm lap bounce up and down in fits of giggles.
I am sorry. I am evil. I splewed all over the keyboard at the mental image of Mr RR, white of face but red of head, and the wee child doing projectile vomiting all over him.
I have to confess, but when the young lady crawled up into his lap watching me every so, every so intently -- as I scrubbed away, talking in that soothing, quiet way you speak to all creatures in distress, being so, so gentle and careful not to pull on his matted hair, dabbing, gently, -- and then she HURLED. Well, it was all I could do to keep from giggling.
The TB (not sure if he was OTTB) is a boarder. Lovely, lovely old soul. Very talented in his day - Advanced level eventer with a second career teaching a former hunter rider the ins and outs of eventing. Lovely gent. I am scolding the Pony relentlessly about her meanness. I suspect she is a bit jealous.
We don't get quit that bad around here. But this week we have been changing the windows on the house, the SO did measure ALL the windows before ordering, seeing as a few where the same size he felt that they all would be. NOT SO. So it has been funny around here. O' ya, the new frount door is 3" to short and it was a special order.
I don't let him order anything for the barn.
My life motto now is "You can't fix stupid!"
Are you going to cowboy up, or lie there and bleed
Ohhhh, I thought my life was busy what with the two girlies, the (horsie) boys and now The Aerodynamic Pony, but your life sure trumps mine!!!!! WOW , vomiting toddlers, a bleeding husband, new horsie friends and the $700 Pony on a welcoming rampage??????? You'd be bored silly here!! I hope everyone is feeling better, and I'm sending thoughts to the Peace Fairy for five minutes of quiet for you!! (I know you think she doesn't exist right now, I didn't either when the girlies were toddlers, but believe me - - she's just in hiding. I think "Wee-40-Puppy-Equivalents" scare her away!)
Reading your tale is a fabulous end to my rather monotonous day. The really good good news is it made my monotonous day seem rather nice, as today, I saw no blood, gore, or vomit. My now grown wee one visited and it was serene and this morning when I fed, there was no blood on any equine, unlike the last two weekend mornings. I love your writing and the description of repeated vomiting and wide-eyed children brings back so many memories.
What no staples? My DH always winds up with staples. Thumbs, hands, heads, whereever. I hope the vomiting doesn't run through the whole family, and that the $700 pony realizes the Error of her Ways and welcomes the new gent. Thanks for the laugh (well you know what I mean).