An Open Letter … Or Three

March 24, 2010 at 4:07 pm | Posted in Bun, Family, Giggles, Lollipop | 22 Comments

Dear Germs:

We’ve had a helluva month, haven’t we?

I appreciate you hanging around as long as you have. I know you’re just looking out for our immune systems, making them stronger, better, tougher. But we are not pick-up trucks. We do not have Hemi inside. We’d just as soon not have your gnarly bacteria greasing our gears and cylinders.

So, please, I beg you: Go. Far. Away. Leave us be, with our scratchy throats and drippy noses and chestfuls of phlegm.  That’s plenty to remember you by, thanks.

Before you go, though, could you please do a few things for me? Like the laundry. The piles and piles of sheets and towels and socks and princess dresses you’ve infiltrated. Could you bleach them till they’re cardboard-stiff wash them?

Could you run to the grocery store and restock? I’m thinking we’ll need 27 boxes of lotion-y Puffs goodness, 8 bags of cough drops (the lemon ones), and the value-box of hot chocolate. With marshmallows please.

One last thing: Could you take the puke smell with you? Take it out of the couch. Out of the My Little Ponies and board books and tiny, tiny grout lines on my tile. Out. Of. My. Nose. Where I’m afraid it’s seared permanently.

Thanks so much. And don’t let the Lysol hit you on the way out.

All Best,
The Mom


Dear Bun,

I want you to know: I’ve tried so very hard to do right by you. I’ve eaten my fruits and veggies and protein and chocolate. I’ve provided copious amounts of water. The occasional nip of Dr. Pepper. All the Cadbury you can eat. We’ve enjoyed ourselves.

And, so, I hope you can forgive me. For this one little thing. The cough syrup.

I wasn’t going to do it, but your daddy made me. I was going to tough it out, be stoic, stay un-medicated. I was going to ignore my lungs exploding and my throat catching fire through every convulsive cough. But he brought it home: Robitussin. Cherry-flavored holy water in a pre-measured cup. I had to.

I looked at the “safe” list from the doctor. I Googled. I read and re-read the box. And I still wasn’t going to. Then Daddy said, “Just two little teaspoons. Think how much better you’ll sleep.”

And he had me. Sleep.

So, Bun, if you could do me a little favor. When the medicine gets to you? Could you ignore it? Just leave it be when it crosses the sacred placental barrier. Just say no. Just to be safe.

I promise, when I’m feeling better, we’ll go back to our usual menu. All the Cadbury you can eat.



Dear Husband,

I wanted to say: I’m sorry. I’m sorry I called you today. In the middle of your meeting or download or bring-up or whatever it was. I know you are busy. I know you have So. Many. Things. to get done before Bun arrives. I know.

And thank you. For answering anyway. For sensing how much I needed to hear your voice. For listening. For deciphering through my tears and coughs and snot.

Because there was puke. Again. On the couch. In her hair. In layers and layers of Cinderella-blue tulle. And because my sinuses ached. My throat screamed. My swollen body dreaded the imminent bending, stooping, scrubbing, scouring, lifting. Because all I wanted to do was curl up and close my eyes. And I couldn’t.

You said you’d be right there. And I breathed. And said, “No, I can do this.” And I could, I did, I am. All I needed was your voice. You. Thank you.

And Chick-Fil-A for dinner? That sounds lovely. Can you convince me to have more cough syrup? Then, I might even be able to taste it.




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  1. Oh Stacia! That’s terrible! Poor Lollipop! Poor you! I’m glad Hubby said the right thing… even though you toughed it out yourself, I’m sure it helped know that he WOULD be there if you just said the word.
    I hope you all feel SO MUCH BETTER soon!!

  2. I don’t know if the germs left you, but they showed up at my house:(

  3. Oh my. I feel awful for you. throw-up and snot. I love image of the lysol hitting the germs on the way out. Made me laugh.

    My friends son just started throwing-up. I fear his germs.

    It seems you are so sick of being sick. Nothing but health this spring and summer.
    Nothing but health!

  4. Oh, you poor, poor, things! Sending good health, hugs, a clear nose, healthy tummies and an extra can of Lysol!

  5. Those damn germs. We just have a few right now, mostly congregated in Little Bit’s snotty nose, so I can’t really complain.

    But boy do I feel for you because it’s hard enough to be a very pregnant mother of two, but one with a cough and puke to clean up, unbelievably hard to be her.

    Nothing last forever, even when it feels like it might. Hang in there!

  6. The throw up is the worst. And there’s that moment when they know it’s coming and you know it’s coming and you flinch and wonder how to prepare, and then There It Is.

    Lovely post.

    I took the OTC cough syrup with dexomethorphan when I was pregnant with Rose. It was either that or bust a rib.

  7. “…gnarly bacteria greasing our gears and cylinders.” Is that what “Hemi” is? I have always wondered.

    And I hope you feel better soon. So unfair to be sick and pregnant and parenting puking babes all at once.

  8. What a lovely post! And good health to you as well. (Yes. Sleep. The magical cure for most things parental.)

  9. I feel your pain. I’ve been sick virtually non-stop since Christmas. I blame the kids of course. Those pesky germs sure latch on to them and manage to sneak into our house. I wish I could send you healthy vibes, but I have so few of my own to spare at the moment 🙂

    Also, can I just tell you that I’ve made the same call to my husband on many occasions. It’s amazing what just hearing their voice does to help isn’t it!

    Everyone keeps telling me, sleep woman! Sleep, what’s that?

  10. So sorry. I’m wishing those germs away for you over here. Just DON’T send them here. We just got over the colds. We don’t need the puke.

  11. I can’t believe you managed to write such a great post through snot, puke and tears. Take care, get better and don’t stress – I’ll send the weird alien cocoon things after your germs. They don’t stand a chance.

  12. Oh, darling, you have had it ROUGH! I second the plea to the germs, you all deserve a break.

    Don’t worry about Bun, considering what most of our Mom’s did when they were pregnant, I’m sure he’s fine!

    Also? If I could write half as well as you when you are in the midst of puke, coughs and sore throats, I’d be a happy woman.

  13. I hate dealing with sickness and being pregnant. It is HORRIBLE! The bending, the smells, everything that makes it all worse.

    Hope that the sickies go away soon!!


  14. Oh honey! I’m so sorry. Everyone at my house has had sinus infections this week. The antibiotics are causing atomic blow-out diapers. So I’m familiar with your plight. I hope that you are getting some sleep and letting your husband take care of you. I hope everyone feels better soon. <>

  15. I never really know what’s going to cause my tears to well up and spill over. Sometimes there are things, tragic things, that I read and, though touched deeply, I can move on. And sometimes there are witty little posts like this that start out funny and quirky and energetic…and end with a feeling so close to home that I want to reach through the screen and say, “Yes, I know that feeling. I know you in that feeling.”

    Thank you.
    I had a night like that last night, or the night before, or two nights ago. Funny that the time has already slipped away. But in that moment I made a phone call. Because all I needed was a voice. Not even encouragement, or a specific word, but just a voice. And then I said good bye and I did what I needed to do and I wiped the tears away and let the frustration subside just enough.
    So yeah, thanks for writing this.

  16. I’m so sorry you are having a rough time….sometimes we just need someone else to swoop in and clean up everything and make it all better…a poop fairy, a puke fairy, an all-around slayer of messes fairy!

    hang in there!!!

  17. Sick and clever, all at the same time?!
    Germs have attacked at our house, too, but they’re out to get my husband. It’s been 10 days, and the Coughing. Needs. To. Stop.
    Hope you get well soon!

  18. I’m sorry you’re having such a rough time. And it sounds like a really rough time. Maybe a chocolate Easter bunny, albeit not fluffy, will help?

  19. What’s funny is your mention of Puffs with lotion. I remember you mentioned them a long time ago on FB and I bought them. Since then, I have been addicted. It wasn’t until recently I had to tell myself these are a luxury item, not an essential item and switched to Puffs regular. I hope you ALL feel better soon. I had 3 colds in my first trimester and it was awful. Also brought me to tears. I can’t imagine adding puking children to that, yikes! Hang in there.

  20. I so far have no baby puke story to match, but plenty from the pets. Not quite the same, I know. I’m quite sure I will have a few in the years to come. My Little Miss is still young.

    And shame on these sandwich guys for not helping – but having been in the food service industry myself, I recall the prejudice these folks have against parents and their kids, so while it’s unfortunate, I’m not surprised. Forgive my generalization as their reasons to not lend a hand could be entirely their own, and valid.

    But good for you and your protest. And seriously, try that tuna sandwich recipe on my site and you won’t even miss them 🙂

    p.s. LOVE Shark Week.

  21. Husband sounds like a wonderful man. I wouldn’t know what I’d do without My Guy either.

    We are very lucky, aren’t we?

    Hope you’re feeling better.

  22. Your letter to your hubby made me tear up! Of course, everything does these days, but that was so incredibly sweet. I’m so sorry you have been feeling so bad. How many more weeks? Keep on writing though…it’s great therapy (plus you’re great at it!).
    My most recent puke story was (and I think you heard this) when I took P in his brand new Christmas outfit to see Santa. The visit went well and as a reward for being so good, I took him to Chick-fil-A in the food court. I told him he had to be careful not to spill any food or wipe greasy fingers on his clothes because he was going to wear them on Christmas. I carefully tucked napkins in his shirt collar as a makeshift bib and rolled up his sleeves. He ate 1 chicken nugget and said he was full. I wasn’t buying it. I thought he was just distracted by the kids at the table next to us. Suddenly, he started the old cough-and-swallow routine that I’m still not 100% used to, then projectile vomited all over the floor, all over my hands trying to catch it, and, of course, his brand new Christmas sweater. Right in front of innocent lunch-eaters. Ugh. Poor guy. The funny thing was, by the time we made it to the bathroom, he was asking me for something to eat!

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