We’re on day 5 of my son’s horrendous stomach bug and to put it mildly, our house and everyone in it is in shambles. That sets the scene for:

1) My husband taking 2 unpaid days off this week

2) Me taking 3 unpaid days off this week

3) 3 gazillion loads of laundry

4) A shopping trip to buy 3 extra bedding sets because I can’t do laundry fast enough

5) 2 VERY tired parents, a frustrated healthy little girl, and a miserable, leaking-from-every-orifice, sick little boy.

And THAT sets the scene for my trip to the clinic today.

A trip made right after a naptime “incident” in which I almost had a heart attack thinking that my son had vomited blood. Nope, just red juice - heart rate slowed again.

The doctor walks in as I’m changing J’s diaper and gasps.

“Is that BLOOD?”

I stare down at J’s socks where she’s pointing and just. about. die.

Nope, that’s puke. Puke on his socks. Which I forgot to change when I was changing the bedding, his clothes, washing the carpet, and dealing with the general chaos of it all.

Yuck.

And I’m the mom who took her kid to the doctor with red puke on his socks.

I have no secrets, I guess. I’m just that mom. All the time.