It's Tuesday. Pam is in the hospital (since Sunday), and our nanny (who is awesome) happens to have the day off (birthday). I don't have much going on at work today (client review), so I'm the manny today. It's just me and the kids.
Because of the flooring done in the basement last week while we were on vacation, we have no cable or wifi. But that's no big deal. We also, as I discovered last night, have no hot water.
So I call the plumbing people first thing.
"We can get someone out there this afternoon," she says.
"No one can come sooner?"
"Nope."
But a short while later she calls back.
"We can get someone out there in about an hour. Would that be ok?"
"Hmmm, let me think about it a second yes that would be great."
I give the kids breakfast. But I can't really wash things. I rinse them and put them in the dishwasher, but the dishwasher is now full, so I start stacking the dirty clean plates and glasses on the counter.
The plumber shows up. I take him downstairs with Judah under my arm. He takes a look at the hot water tank, tinkers with it for awhile, and says, "It's gone."
(It's a year past warranty.)
The plumber goes out to his truck and comes back with a quote for a new hot water tank. It costs more than having the floor redone. So I do the math in my head. I multiply the dishes by meals and mouths, and then subtract space and time. I divide by necessity.
"Ok," I say. "Can it be done today?"
"If it's in stock."
He makes a call. It is.
"Alright," I say. "Let's do it."
I play with the kids and eventually start to think about lunch. The plumber comes back. He needs to remove the old water tank before putting in the new one. He explains he also has to cut the gas and water.
"No problem," I say. "Just give me fifteen minutes to make a frozen pizza."
The smartest thing I do is refill the Brita pitcher with water. I do it just in time as the faucet slows to a drip.
Now we have no gas. And no water.
The kids eat pizza, and some apple and blueberries that I rinse with water from the Brita.
After lunch I put Judah down for his nap. The mechanical closet is right next to his room. They're going to start banging away soon. But I bet he'll sleep through it.
When I come back upstairs I have a different view of the kitchen. Breakfast and now lunch have forsaken the smooth landscape of the granite countertop with stalagmites of various foodstuffs, and the floor (under where Judah sits) is a wasteland of carrots, apples, and bits of cheese. Food is fastening itself to plates, bits of juice are becoming part of the glass. The dishwasher is mocking me.
As much as Pam is a Stein now, she's still very much a Mufson. She would FREAK OUT IN HORROR if she saw the kitchen right now. It is a hot dry crusty mess. So it's good she's not here, as it's very pre-Renaissance here at Chez Stein - like we're only a rat infestation away from a great plague.
Nola's room is on the other side of the mechanical closet, so we play dolls upstairs in Pam and my bedroom. I can hear the men working below. I check the monitor. Judah is asleep.
Nola and I turn the dolls into mermaids. The bedspread is the sea and the pillow is land. Suddenly Nola gets a look on her face. It's one I vaguely remember from when she used to sit in the car where Judah sits now. I saw it years ago in the rear view mirror on a trip to visit aunt Karen and uncle Greg. And I see it now as she sits across from me on the bed. It is a look of uncertainty. She doesn't understand what's traveling up from her stomach and into her mouth. Ah, yes. There it is - lunch! A Vesuvial eruption all over our bed, bedspread, pillows, and carpet. It's on her clothes, robe, and teddy bear.
It's SO gross, especially that hot vomit smell that instantly fills the air.
For what it's worth, I'm pretty good in a crisis. I'm very calm. My brain shifts down a gear to the one that focuses on traction. No yelling, no screaming.
"C'mon, sweetheart. Let's go to the bathroom. It's ok."
I lift her up and carry her to our bathroom. I start to take off her clothes. Instinctively I turn on the faucet.
Nothing happens.
Because there's no fucking water.
#Facepalm
I grab a towel and wipe her down. It's all I can do. I throw her clothes and the towel in the tub. As it turns out, Pam's clothes from the other day are still there.
So. Gross.
"I feel better now that I threw up, daddy. It's all orange which is good because I like colors."
"Good, I'm glad."
From downstairs - a loud bang. They must have dropped something. And it's followed by screaming. But not from the men. It is the screaming of a sleeping baby suddenly not sleeping.
I finish wiping Nola down, and bring her out to the family room where our suitcases remain unopened from our vacation. I unzip one.
"Are any of these your clothes?"
Nola takes out some shorts and a top.
"Ok, put those on. I have to get Judah."
I go downstairs to get Judah. He is not happy.
"What the fuck, man! I was sleeping! And then there's this loud bang and all of a sudden I'm wide awake! And no poop! I always poop when I nap and now I'm backed up and where the fuck were you, man?! I've been screaming for like three minutes! WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU?!"
"Dude," I say. "Not now. I need you to be cool."
"I'm not going to be cool! I'm upset! I'M VERY VERY UPSET!"
I put Judah in a fresh diaper and go check on the men to see how much longer. Only they're not there. Where the fuck are they?
I go upstairs to check on Nola. She's fine.
"It's good to throw up, dad, because then you feel all better."
"Ok, good."
I call the plumbing people. They'll check where the men are and get back to me. I sit with Judah and Nola in the family room, pretty much now the safe room.
I hear the men outside coming around back. I bring Judah downstairs and ask how much longer. 'Bout an hour' they say. I explain about the vomit. 'Maybe sooner,' they say.
I go back upstairs with Judah to sit with Nola who's playing on the couch. She's fine. But then that look of uncertainty...
I scoop her up in a flash and take her to the powder room, the only vomit-free bathroom. She aims for the bowl, but most of the damage has already been done. It's on her and me, and in her hair.
And there's still no fucking water.
That smell.
I wipe her down with hand towels and make a pile of her clothes and the towels on the floor. All of a sudden I'm Liam Neeson in Taken 1, 2, or 3.
"I'm going to get you more clothes. Stay here."
Judah is about to put his hand in a puddle of bile, but I grab him just in time and take him down with me to get more clothes for Nola. I explain to the men as I pass by that I need the water on. I'm still Liam Neeson. "Guys, I really need the water on. It's not so pretty up there. I need. The water. On."
I dress Nola and we sit in the family room and wait. I watch Nola and Judah play together. It's sweet. They have no idea, no care for clean dishes or laundry. So innocent.
After the first vomiting - which seems like days ago - I remember thinking how things couldn't get worse. Now after the second vomiting, I refuse to hedge that same bet.
It's after 5. How did it get to be after 5? Dinner. I need to make them dinner.
What to do, what to do?
But you know what? It's not the Dark Ages all up in here. We have a microwave. And a refrigerator.
#ChallengeAccepted!
Judah has a repeat of lunch for dinner, and I heat up some broth for Nola in the microwave. I can do this. As God as my witness I can do this!
When dinner is done, I stack the dirty dirty dishes on top of the dirty clean dishes and then we all find safe harbor on the couch. And wait. The sun goes gold over my shoulder.
"Mr Stein?!"
I go to the top of the stairs.
"Yeah?"
"You're set. You got hot water. It might take a bit for the water to heat up, but you should be good."
But he had me at 'set.'
Within 20 seconds I'm downstairs filling the tub with warm water. When the plumber finds me to sign everything, Judah is already in the bath.
After I put Judah down, I put Nola in the shower.
"We're double shampooing your hair tonight."
"But dad!"
"You have vomit and food and all kinds of nastiness in your hair. We're double shampooing and that's it."
"Fine."
After I put Nola down I call Pam to check in. Her voice is weak and tired. She says they may keep her until Friday. She asks how everything is at home.
"Fine," I say. "No big."
"The kids are ok?"
"Yup. They're sleeping. It's all good."
I say goodnight and goodbye and now the real work begins. My home is way past nightmare. It is a hellscape. And for the next 6 hours I am wiping things down, spraying things, soaking things, vacuuming, and doing laundry. Loads and loads of laundry. Sheets and blankets and towels - things that take a long time to dry.
And now it's four in the morning. Even though I've had the bacon scented candle going for hours, the vomit smell still lingers. But I'm done for the night. I have clean sheets now and I'm done.
The kids won't be up for another three hours.
Or so.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...
Addendum 1
Judah and I have not come down with anything. (Knock on virtual wood.) It would seem we are Gods.
Addendum 2
The car seat. Nola threw up in it on Sunday. It's been in the car with the windows cracked for days. Luckily, it's been cool out. Long story less complicated, I took it apart and cleaned it Wednesday night. The hard part was putting it back together. It reminded me of the time I replaced the gasket in the dryer. I will never do that again. I'll gladly pay someone $175 to do it for me. Concerning the car seat, the key is the 'D-Ring' located in back. If this ever happens to you - the D-Ring.
Addendum 3
I brought Pam home Thursday evening. And Judah nailed it. "Mama!"
Bonus: In lieu of vomit pics, here are some highlights from how it went down Sunday night/Monday morning...
Pam is unwell.
(As fate would have it, she's in the same room I was when I had vertigo.)
So far they think Nola is just visiting...
...and having a moment with Mommy.
(The clock's not working in this room, by the way. It only worked once while we were here.)
No, she's here as a patient - in her own room.
The nurse gives her some My Little Pony stickers, and Nola explains about how everyone is always surprised that Twilight Sparkle has wings as the needle goes in. She takes her IV like a champ.
And when I see Pam on Wednesday, she is doing MUCH better. Thursday evening I take her home.
Fin.
