Friday was the first Halloween Ragsy's really been able to participate in, at least in any meaningful way. He more or less made his own costume from bits and pieces - an old pirate shirt from daddy's costume last year, the head of a dinosaur costume that Nanima bought him this year and a rubber spatula. Together, they made... Dinosaur Pirate Captain Hook! What was the spatula for? Why, silly, it was his sword!
He was so proud of himself it was fantastic. I love that he made up his own costume. He had a fabulous day - his dad made it to the Halloween Day parade at day care, he got to eat as many sweets as he wanted and when he got home, he got hot dogs and even more sweets. It's important to note here that he never gets either hot dogs or sweets at home. Cookies, cakes and candy are a rareity, mostly because Ragsy's parents are addicts. Whenever there's junk food, we inhale it by the pound. As for hot dogs, well, I've just never considered them as something to keep around. Nothing wrong with them (especially the Kosher beef kind, which used to be my favorite), but I always forget they're there at the supermarket.
Sadly, I was unaware of the quantities of junk food he had enjoyed at day care - apparently his "deprivation" leads to overindulgence - and, unbeknownst to me, should not have allowed him to have more at home. Then we went for a walk (not trick-or-treating - he wasn't interested) to see the other kids in costume and the neighbors gave him candy, insisting that every kid needed some for Halloween, even if they weren't dressed up. It's amazing what a combination of bad food, ignorance (all mine) and good intentions will do. It was a little like a horror movie how everything played out.
Shortly after Ragsy went to bed, all the power went out with a loud bang. Everything went dark and quiet. With nothing else to do and my fever returning, I climbed into bed, only to be awoken by the sound of the power coming back on around midnight. No big deal - I just walked around, shutting off lights, and got back into bed. Until 4 a.m., when I thought I was dreaming as I heard feet coming toward me in the bedroom. Ragsy's not a huge fan of the dark and our room is much darker than his since we have no nightlight. He has never, ever walked to our room at night before. He woke me gently and asked me to change his diaper. Yikes. That process in and of itself was hair curling.
That done, I was satisfied that whatever ill effects the junk from the previous day had had were taken care of. It took about 2 and 1/2 hours and a large cup of water to get him back to sleep (Scott and Pam, if you're reading, this, he talked mostly of you, Gavin and Ian, asking where you were and what you were doing; he also asked about "man," otherwise known as Phil dressed as Death, wondering yet again, "He scared of pirate ships?" - he really, really likes him). Finally, he stopped talking long enough to fall asleep so I crawled back into my own bed, only to be awoken in the worst way.
You know that burp/gag sound people make when they're barfing? Yeah, that one. Hearing that at my bedroom door was what woke me. I sat up, searching for the source. Our door was open, but there was no one there. But there was a suspicious smudge on our door. A smelly one. I glanced down the hall. Oh, holy Christ on a pogo stick.
What possessed my son to first walk all the way out into the living room while horking up everything he'd eaten yesterday is beyond me. Normally he comes straight for me, particularly if he's hurt, frightened or ill. In this case, however, the poor kid made a trail all the way from his room and our bedroom, down the hall almost to the kitchen and back again. He's none too steady on his feet immediately on waking, understandably less so when sick, and had apparently grabbed the walls for support as he went. Ugh.
He was still shivering from the effort and gagging a little when I found him, so I gently led him to the toilet, showed him how to lean over and rubbed his back. He caught on quickly, but he was mostly done anyway. I woke my husband as I stripped our son in the bathroom and started the clean-up process. The day passed with a lot of time spent scrubbing the carpet, a couple more episodes of stomach upset and three loads of extremely gross laundry. The worst was over. Regardless, the whole thing changed me forever. It will be a long, long time before I can look at a hot dog again.
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