There's A Stranger In My House.

As I sat nursing 8 week old Wyatt, that unmistakable gurgle hit my gut. As the evening progressed so did the seriousness of my ailment. As I sat on my porcelain throne trembling and worried with trash can dumped out on the floor for a make shift bucket, I debated whether to call someone for help to watch the kids. They hadn't read the manual of how to act when momma is sick. Instead they were running in to tell me "Brian changed the channel on the TV" and me saying "I don't care". Them running in to ask "Are you done yet? We have to go potty", me saying "I DON'T care, go upstairs". Them running in to tell me, "Brian dumped out the bottle of glue on the chair in the office" Me yelling, "I DON'T CARE!"

I summoned my oldest, Makensie age 7, and asked her to call daddy and tell him to pick up the pace and get home that I was really sick. Unfortunately Allen was still about 30 minutes away. I also asked her for a wet washcloth because at this point, I was thinking I was going to pass out. I told her that if I did pass out, NOT to call 911! She could however, go to our sweet elderly neighbors house and ask Miss Virginia to come and sit with the baby until daddy got home. After all, the last thing I want on my record of humiliating experiences, is to be passed out on the floor with my panties around my ankles.

Then the door bell rang. Since it is so late, it only made sense that it had to be someone we knew. The kids all start yelling, "Go to the back door!" Now our front door hasn't opened from the inside for about a year now, yet somehow appears to be #131 on someone's honeydo list. Then I hear the stampede to the kitchen. How is it possible that 3 kids that weigh less than 40lbs each sound as if a fleet of octopus wearing work boots rose up and were trampling through the house?

I hear the back door open and knew it had to be a close friend because the rule is to never ever ever ever open the door to a stranger. At this point I am not mustering up the energy to be moving anywhere. I was thinking to myself, "Thank you Lord! Please let them be able to stay with the baby just until Allen gets home. "

Then I hear the stampede heading my direction. Makensie and Gabby come in and shout excitedly, "mom, it's one of your friends." I ask of course, "Which one?" You have to imagine this next part as if viewing it thru a slow motion camera... Makensie gestures to the bathroom door as she says, "Thiiiiiissssss oooonnnne." And now joining me in the bathroom is a complete stranger. I sat looking up at her, my mouth wide open, sounds in my head I didn't know existed. Gabby helped explain the slightly awkward situation by letting her know, "momma's sick. She has diarrhea." As she wrinkled up and pinched her nose and fanned the air.

Ya think? She had to have guessed that when she walked into our bedroom! But wait! It gets better, as she stood there and went ahead to tell me that she had stopped by to see if I had a playpen to get rid of.

Well, I shouldn't’t have said she was a complete stranger, I had met her at my yard sale a couple of days previous. And a couple of days previous I would have gladly in my yard, dressed have discussed the sale of the playpen.

At this point my head is whirling, partly from the embarrassment and partly from the shock that I had to then ask her if I could finish going to the bathroom, then we could talk. I wanted to scream "IS THIS SERIOUSLY HAPPENING?! AM I THE ONLY ONE THAT CAN SEE I'M ON THE TOILET?!"

I am having a complete lack of understanding of what in the world my children were thinking! I didn’t even want to leave the bathroom. I splash my face with cold water, lean over the sink and glance into the mirror and tell myself "This is it. This is THE most embarrassing moment of my life." I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. But not laugh like funny haha, laugh like crazy insane then burst into tears and then back into laughing, they're-coming-to-take-me-away laughing. I bravely step foot into Wyatt's room to see Makensie folding up MY pack and play and I tell her and the gal that I'm not giving my pack and play away that I still use it, "that's why it is set up - Makensie" said in my best I'm trying to keep my composure here although I really want to scream voice.

Makensie then goes and gets my 2 month old baby out of the swing and brings him in and hands him to this lady, who by this time I'm 100% sure is not all there. And yet I'm considering sending my kids home with her. She hands him immediately back to me. Then says, "I don't like to hold them when they're that small" Although I specifically remember her having a kid, and correct me if I'm wrong, but she is wanting a pack and play. At this point my tummy is sounding off again. And for some reason I still fell the need to be polite as I usher her out apologizing for the quick visit, that I was just sick.

I will probably need to seek counseling for my post traumatic shock.