Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Couch Potato

I don't usually talk about my home life because its usually pretty boring if you are not family or friends interested in the goings on of my kids, wife, and myself. But every once in a while I like to open the door into the mysterious life of Bill.

Two Sunday's ago I was playing EVE but my throat was sore. "A cold coming on," I thought to myself but in the morning I felt OK and went off to work. However, by the time the afternoon began to roll around I was feeling very pale, weak, and sick. "Go home, Bill, you're sick."

I manage to commute my way home where I bundle up in blankets on the couch and watch with immense sympathy as my wife has to:
- pick kids up from school
- prepare supper
- take Terjoe to dance class
- come home and take Wilmick to Cub Scouts
- clean up the dishes (I dragged myself off the couch for 15 minutes to help)
- do baking for birthday on Wednesday
- leave to pick up Terjoe, and then go over to pick up Wilmick
- come home and put all three kids to bed
- crash for the night

She was exhausted, poor thing.

Tuesday I was feeling better and went off to work but by the afternoon I was feeling wiped again. However, no rest for me since it was Arrjay's 7th Birthday on Wednesday and we needed to put up decorations. So I put on my brave face and blew up balloons and put up streamers and begged a god, any god in the neighbourhood, to put me out of my achy misery.

And as I was going to bed at 10 PM Aarjay opened his bedroom door and moaned "I puked."

Now, I've seen some nasty kid puke scenes in my time. My favourite story is the Strawberry puke from the top bunk bed hell-night that happened twice in a week, but this one ranks pretty high on the list. He was eating cranberries so the puke was red and chunky and runny all at the same time. Not on the floor, oh no, all over the pillow and bed and stuffed animals. And puke cleanup is my job.

Strip the bed, take all the infected blankets and stuff downstairs, and bag the semi-solid chunks and start scrubbing with laundry soap because you don't want it to sit there and stink up the house or stain the stuff. Once scrubbed, it can be left for the machine tomorrow. Meanwhile, upstairs Aarjay is crying not only because he is sick but because he thinks his birthday tomorrow is ruined.

Eventually off to bed praying no more puke arrives tonight.

Wednesday, miraculously, arrives without anyone sick. Or rather, sick enough to ruin the day. We celebrate by all five of us playing hooky and taking off to the National War Museum of Canada in Ottawa where we check out the World War II gallery and the Tank gallery.
Panzer IIC

Back at home, presents were opened, songs were sang, pizza was ordered, and treats were eaten. A good birthday.

Thursday, Aarjay is over the birthday rush and stays home from school to rest with mom. I get home from work that evening to find him feeling much better... but Mrs Kodachi is on the couch wrapped in blankets and weak and unwilling to move. Uh oh.

Now, I love my wife immensely going on 20 years marriage this year, but she is a broken human being when it comes to health. Everyone else goes through a 24 hour flu or a minor cold? She's out for 72 hours and takes a week or two to fully recover. Gall bladder issues? Emergency surgery and a week stay in the hospital. Another time it was a ruptured appendix.

So when she got sick Thursday evening, it meant that:
- I had to sleep on the couch for three nights
- I was single parenting for three days

I'm a modern dad of the 21st century and unfortunately I've had practice doing this type of thing so it wasn't a huge deal. The 8 loads of laundry on the weekend was a pain, but at least the twins are old enough to help sort the clean clothes into the right piles. But sleeping on the couch sucks mainly because it means that I can't sleep in because the kids get up at 6AM and I'm a light sleeper. Not to mention Terjoe came down the stairs at 6AM, said "I feel sick" and ran back up to the bathroom and puked on the stairs on the way. At least it wasn't on the carpet or bedsheets. Or middle of the night... from the top bunk. *SHUDDER*

There I am, early Saturday morning, cleaning puke. Parenting is rewarding!

Terjoe spent the day on the couch recovering along with Mrs Koachi, but I had to take Wilmick to his Jiu Jitsu belt test in the morning and in the afternoon Wilmick and Aarjay had haircuts scheduled, and still I needed to keep on top of the housework including the laundry.

On Sunday we started to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Terjoe was feeling 100% better and we had no plans so I could tackle more laundry and just relax. Mrs Kodachi was still pretty weak but the nausea passed enough that I could sleep in my own bed that night again. Sweet comfort. Monday Mrs Kodachi was finally starting to eat and keep it in, but since its March break I needed to stay home to protect her from the kids and their hurricane of activity, and today I'm back at work as she was declared well enough to hold the fort down.

And then I get a text that Wilmick is sick now.

Sweet god, please do not let him puke from the top bunk again.


  1. The quiet voice of a child from the doorway at 2am which always seems to be able to wake you in an instance - proclaiming "I feel sick", followed by the sloppy sound of vomit hitting the carpet as they make a too late dash for the toilet. The joys of parenting.

  2. I've been there - sympathies to you and Mrs Kodachi. FWIW, they do grow up eventually and learn to take care of themselves. Hang in there.

  3. I hate kid puke. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

    I got woken up by my wife calling that #2 was feeling sick, and to grab a bucket and bring it in to his bedroom. I entered the room just as my wife caught projectile puke chest high, and used her arms and hands to coral the mess without it hitting the bed linen.

    #2 whimpered and went back to sleep, the bucket stayed clean. I had to help my wife out of her clothes before she could have a shower to clean herself up (including her hair). Getting her out of her shirt was one of the worst things I've ever had to do.


    1. We've avoided being puked on so far since we got out of baby stage.