Day Family Adventure: BIRDIE IN THE BARF BUCKET

Being a parent often brings situations you have to laugh about, if you don't, you may end up on the floor in the fetal position, rocking and crying. Last night was one of those nights.

I got a call from my sister. My niece, Courtney had been thrown off her horse and was taken by ambulance to the hospital. Thank goodness her spine is fine, she never lost consciousness, but she does have a broken arm and needs to stay in the hospital for observation. When I get those calls, it makes me want to jump on a plane and head on back, and take care of everyone. This call had a terrible connection, not good when trying to hear the details about a potentially serious situation. I called Judy back on our cell and head outside to hear the rest of the story. I tend to walk while I am on the phone, especially if I am feeling stressed. I walk inside to the lovely view of barf spread out over our white tiled floor, and Josh, looking green, shaky and sweaty. The first thing I do is turn around and finish my conversation, away from the fumes. Am I such a great Mom or what! Once I finished my conversation, I headed inside to deal with poor Josh. I wipe his brow, get him to rinse his mouth, and lay him down in our bedroom. Josh looks up at me and asks if he could have a bowl of cereal now. I laugh and say no way.

Paul and I start cleaning the puddle. For those of you who know Josh, know he has a pretty hearty appetite. Paul and I look at each other and say "This boy needs to chew his food a little more!" Suddenly, I hear a crack and see Syd in the kitchen, holding her head with both hands and crying. What I mean by crying is, mouth open, tears streaming, face getting blue and no sound coming from her. Not good. I rush over and check for gashes and blood. There were neither. I comfort her and put an ice pack on her head. She had hit her head on our concrete counter on her way up from picking something up off the floor.

By now I have both kids on the couches with cool clothes on their heads. Josh throws up a few more times: on the way to the bathroom, in our bedroom, on the couches. Seriously, get some aim boy! At least now, the vomit is just fluid, no chunks. Paul and I continue the marathon clean up. We just shrug our shoulders and shake our heads.

At the moment, we are taking care of a friends bird, Ozzy. Ozzy is a friendly little fellow who thinks he is already part of the family. He eats popcorn with us when we watch movies, he chews on erasers when the kids are doing school, he follows me around if we have him out of his cage. He is a great bird. I am outside doing my 2nd load of barf laundry and I hear "MOM, Ozzy just fell into the bucket." I run and to see poor Ozzy floating in a bucket of barf. I rescue this poor, wet, stinky bird and bring him to the kitchen. How do you clean a bird? I have never had a bird, so I had no idea. Ozzy just looks at me with a cocked head and shakes, splashing most of the vomit all over my face. Nice. Paul gets a warm washcloth and starts wiping him clean.

This morning, the laundry is done, the floors are spotless and everyone, including the bird, is feeling better.