My "Melissa" Day

My friend, Melissa, is currently single parenting her 2 boys. She has had some of the craziest things happen to her during the past (almost) 6 months. So, the other day, during a very crazy time for me, I kept thinking about Melissa.

My flight from Colorado was canceled on Wednesday, so I was flying home with our "baby" (21 months) on Thursday. It had, for obvious reasons, been a very very tough week. Add to that the fact that he doesn't sleep well or eat well when we are traveling - AT ALL. So, you have 2 sleep deprived people and one who only wants to "murse". We get on our 1st flight, all is well. About 45 minutes into the flight, he coughs a couple of times and throws up all over himself, me and the tray. I push the call button for the flight attendant and sit there, slowly dying. The man across the aisle hands me a kleenex, which cleaned up about an ounce of the puke. The flight attendants come (they were super sweet), hand me paper towels with soap and water; help me strip off his pants, shoes and socks; give me a bag for them, etc. I go to the bathroom and soap down my shirt and pants and his shirt. Back to the seat. Of course, he wants to murse. 10 minutes later, throw up again. This time he douses his shirt completely and the magazine I had just bought. Now he is flying in a diaper. We smell oh so pretty. The flight attendants gave me a blanket and kept worrying about how cold it was outside. All I could think was "who cares - we're just changing flights!" He finally falls asleep on my lap and I sit there, numb. I'm praying so hard, "please God, don't let him throw up again, PLEASE". Flight lands, and I quickly realize why a blanket is necessary - we are going to deplane down the STAIRS of all things, and have to walk, OUTSIDE, to the terminal. Thanks. I put my back pack on, get him situated in the blanket, get in the aisle and hear him start coughing again. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Yep, puke in my hand this time. By now I've realized that diapers are absorbent and I'm using them to clean up the junk. This time I just sit there, waiting for everyone else to get off the plane before getting up and leaving. Yes, I'm shaking all over. Just way too much stress for this girl for the week. I have a 55 minutes layover, so I take my diapered child into the 1st store that looked like it might have kids stuff. I walk up to the lady, "Please, I need your help. My son threw up all over himself. I need a shirt and pants, size 2T, and I'm in a hurry." She was wonderful. We now own a $42 Cincinnati Bengals sweat suit. Worth every penny. I call my husband, tell him our sad tale and try to not cry. Call my parents, shaking, ask them to pray for me as I'm about to become hysterical. 2nd flight. God gave me the gift of a seat between me and this other guy, who, thankfully, was a tad tipsy (yes, I'm thankful for a half-drunk stranger on an airplane!). We get seated and within 15 minutes of takeoff, puke again. Then I start to realize that he has also pooped and it STINKS. So, now there is this huge dilemma - do you change the diaper and use potentially your last diaper for the smelly diaper or save the diaper for the next puke? I sat there for a while debating this until I realized that his diaper was leaking a little bit on my leg. Obviously I had to change the diaper and realized that I still had one diaper left. So, the foul smelling diaper goes in the diaper bag. He has only one more small episode of puke (I was refusing him any water at this point, despite his many pleas for "dink mamma, dink"). We left the plane and threw the diaper away as quickly as possible. I'm sure my husband was thrilled to greet his stinky wife and child! :-)

So, there you have it, my Melissa day. God bless you Melissa for allowing Brent to leave for 6 months. I'm not sure I have it in me!