Oh what a beautiful morning...not!

Little Girl crawled in bed with me last night/early this morning like she always does. No big deal, except at about 5am she says, "Mommy I threw up." So I get up and clean it up just in time for her to do it again in the floor. So I clean her up and put her back in my clean bed, clean the floor up and crawl back in bed with her. A few minutes after I reach the drifting back to sleep stage she blows chunks all over the place. It was literally projectile vomit. She puked all the was across a full size bed to the other side of it onto the floor and window sill. So, I strip her down, put her in the shower and proceed to clean everything up. It took me a while. I think it was about 6:30 by this time. I just left her in the shower the whole time I was stripping the bed and cleaning the floor and window, I figured she can puke in there and it doesn't matter. (Can you smell it yet?) Just as I'm getting her out of the shower and into pajamas, Little Boy comes into the bathroom without pants on and says he's peed his bed. That is unbelievable because this kid has NEVER peed his bed. So I finish getting Little Girl back to bed (her bed this time, it's smaller and easier to clean), then I clean up Little Boy and his bed and decide that I can't go back to sleep. What a way to start the day! I have to say though that I stayed very calm and sweet the entire time, that's pretty amazing for me. I just knew that it wasn't their fault and they couldn't clean it up themselves. It sucked. I've never had to do anything like that without Daddyman. Crazy, I know. There have actually been times when I didn't even know they were sick until the next morning when he told me that he had done all the laundry from the kids throwing up last night. He's so wonderful! How many husbands out there would have just rolled over and pretended they didn't know anything until their wife got up and took care of it? I miss him a lot.