Barfing in cars with boys

Brought to you by Gross Moments in Parenting, Volume MCXLD, Chapter 51: Stomach Contents and the Viewing Thereof. Anithe & Co., var. dates from 2003 to present.

Also brought to you with apologies to Beverly Donofrio. (Although, since at one point she had a toddler son, I'm sure she'd understand.)

So, hey. My car smells. Want to know why? Too bad; I'm going to tell you anyway.

It began in dramatic fashion in May 2005, when I arrived at daycare to pick up Boy Wonder and was greeted by a slightly rattled thermometer-holding teacher. "I'm so glad you're here!" she said. "He's been acting really weird all afternoon, and just now he sat down on the floor and just started sobbing! So I took his temperature and it's 104 degrees!" Well, damn. That was the highest fever he'd ever had in his life, and I was accordingly freaked out. I bundled him into the car, checked my purse for the bottle of toddler ibuprofen, and suddenly remembered it was in my desk drawer at work. I was torn: go back to my office and grab the ibuprofen, or head home and give a dose there? I decided to head back to work, but in any case, no ibuprofen was given; as I pulled into the parking lot, he suddenly made odd hiccuping noises and barfed from here to eternity. Then he did it twice more on the way home. Oddly enough, by the time we got home his fever was nearly gone, and the next day, the doctor couldn't find a thing wrong. "Well, when a child's fever is very high, it does sometimes cause vomiting," he said. This was news to me, as previous fevers had not manifested in such a fashion.

But, ever since then, it's proved quite accurate. When Boy Wonder's gets a fever above a certain level, he vomits with great force. He really, really, hates throwing up, and breaks into hysterics immediately afterward. And, unfortunately, these episodes often occur in the car. The most recent winter featured several such episodes, two in my car and one in Dragon's. The one in Dragon's car featured a special bonus nosebleed, and the subsequent fever lasted four days before breaking.

Why all the background? Well, you'd think that I would remember this all, and apply the knowledge that fever = barfing, as needed. But you'd be wrong.

Today, I arrived at my parents' house to pick up the boys. Boy Wonder was quite cheerful, but Action Hero was sitting dazedly on my mother's lap, and barely looked up when I came in. When he did look up, he began whimpering and crying quietly. "He's been like this since he woke up from his nap," said my mother. "Does he feel warm to you?" He did, but not THAT warm. (However, he did tell me that he wanted to go in the kitchen because the Lightning McQueen sleeping bag was scaring him, so that should have been an indicator that things were not quite right.) So what did I do? I packed the kids up and we all walked out to the car, where, 10 seconds after I buckled Action Hero into his carseat, he barfed from here to eternity.

"He barfed on my BACKPACK!" said Boy Wonder, and burst into hysterics. Action Hero, rather stunned by the whole thing and with good reason, also burst into hysterics. Everyone was removed from the car, taken back inside, and mopped up. Action Hero's clothes were changed, and he stopped looking so dazed. The carseat was temporarily mopped up. We all boarded, and I called Dragon to tell him that we were riding home in the Vomit Comet.

By the time we got home, Action Hero was asking for apple juice and dinner. (He received well-watered juice and Saltine crackers.) By bedtime, his fever was essentially gone.

Let's hope it stays that way. And that, next time a slightly warm Action Hero is afraid of his sleeping bag, I'll just go get a bucket instead of heading for the car.