Why do short weeks always seem so long?

I am, like most, I imagine, very incredibly gleeful that today is Friday. One would think that since I only worked three days this week (and yesterday was a short day because I left an hour early due to discomfort caused by ill-fitting pants), that I wouldn't be as eager as usual to get out of here, but I'm pretty sure I'm more eager than usual to make my escape. This week has been a long one, despite the short work-week.

Be forewarned - there is grossness ahead.

It all started last Friday night. Gabbie complained that her tummy hurt, but since she was a little, um, gassy, I figured that was it and we all sat down to eat our favorite Friday night type dinner - bowls of snacks while watching a family movie. Among those bowls of snacks were two of Gabbie's favorites, fresh strawberries and Cheetos (no judgement please). So she went to town. I tried to slow her down on the strawberries, and had to eventually take them away, because she did not need to eat an entire quart of berries on her own. Then she went to town on the Cheetos.

It was shortly after this that we realized the neighbor had his teenaged kids for the weekend. His teenaged kids who spent last weekend lighting off firecrackers at all hours of the night (including one in our mailbox, and they're lucky they were back at their mom's house when I found that). Accordingly, we hightailed it out of there 12 hours earlier than planned and headed north to my parents' house. The trip was fine apart from a few wails from the backseat due to a hurting tummy.

We should have known what was coming. (I would like to stop here, and comment on all the people who have told me they've never had to deal with a vomitting kiddo. They are lucky people and should keep their mouths shut when you're at the store buying Pedialyte pops and Saltines. Next time they get to deal with my frequent puker.)

Five minutes from my parents' house, Gabbie started crying again and then, suddenly, let loose a wave of vomit across the back seat. Strawberry, Cheeto vomit. (We aren't currently in the market for either of those two foods, thanks, and I don't think we will be for quite a while.) We pulled over, cleaned her up as best as possible, and threw her in the bath as soon as we arrived. This was followed by two more puking instances, and some really gross diapers the next day. I'm kind of glad now that we are lagging behind on our potty training plans.

Saturday afternoon she started acting like herself again, so we figured we were in the clear. Fast-forward to 12:30 AM on Monday, and you'd find me curled in a ball on my parents' couch completely understanding why Gabbie was crying about her stomach ache. I had the worst stomach cramps ever! Aaron was felled at about 4:30 AM and we both spent the day sleeping and being thankful that my parents were around to watch Gabbie, because we would have been horrible parents that day.

We finally felt that we could commit to the two hour car ride home mid-day on Tuesday, and I started feeling closer to 100% yesterday. I also would like to acknowledge here that a rumbly tummy accompanied by a kicky baby makes things twice as uncomfortable, at the very least. And tricky to judge.

This weekend? We're staying put and not committing to anything. Except maybe a trip to the pool or out to the movies. Fun things, since we missed out on all the fun last weekend.