Puking Fun

So, we’re dealing with another bout of stomach flu. The virus reared it’s ugly head at just about the perfect (meaning imperfect) time. Saturday started just like any other Saturday, albeit a bit busier. We had ballet class at 9:30 and that went just like it always does. The kids got their ($40!!!!) recital costumes so they could have them in time for picture day (more $$$$). Then we went home and got ready to leave for Henry’s 4th birthday party in Pleasanton.

The drive was going fine until about an hour away from home. Roan started getting whiney about being hungry (we ate before we left). I ended up giving her a juice box because she was complaining about being thirsty. Sage was asleep. Then she wanted her window rolled down. This should’ve been my tip off, but I thought she was just being difficult. The whole time she never mentions feeling sick. Then it came. A little barf. And then the crying. And then the parents yelling back in forth about where to get off the freeway as we were quickly approaching a bridge.

We made it to a gas station. I took Roan inside to clean her up and Luciglom worked on the van. Roan seemed a little better so we got her some crackers and water and decided we go on a little farther, stop at a Target (I didn’t pack any extra clothes and now hers were pretty wet) and see how it goes. At this point we were thinking “car sick” since she’s complained about being car sick before and I remember getting car sick a lot as a kid.

We made it to Target. I came out with a package of wet wipes and a sundress. I see that Roan is out of the van with her dad. That’s when I knew it wasn’t car sick and we’d be turning around and driving home.

Missing the party sucked. It was for a 4 year old, but also lots of adults and they were BBQing! So we got back on the freeway going towards home now. We get out side of Fairfield and the floodgates opened. This time Roan had a bag. She got about half of it in the bag and the rest everywhere else. Later she said we needed to give her a bigger bag.

So, Saturday we spent about 3 hours in the car and basically went nowhere and had lots of puke to clean up. So fun.

Roan is on her third day home from school today because of it. I knew she wouldn’t be able to go on Monday. She still had a little fever, but had stopped puking. We had a diarrhea disaster late Monday night. I feel like I should leave out those details. So Tuesday was another “no go” day for school. She seemed like she was getting better Tuesday afternoon, but she was still dealing a little with the ‘rhea, but I was pretty sure we’d make it to school today. I even got her dressed and all ready, but she said her stomach still hurt and she wanted to “rest.” So I called her in. I don’t want to risk a poop disaster at school. That would be devastating.

Now I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Last time Roan got the stomach flu, the rest of us got it A WEEK LATER. I can’t even sneeze with out it hurting right now (big preggo belly) I can’t imagine barfing.

I was just thinking how we have the school’s spaghetti dinner to go to on Friday night. Sounds like the perfect recipe for puking disaster.

And I forgot...

I wish PETA would shut the hell up, blaming the jockey. They're claiming he whipped her into two broken front legs. Soooo stupid.

R.I.P. Eight Belles

Most people who know me, know I’m really into horses. Well, maybe a lot of people don’t, since I’ve been on horse hiatus for some time. Anyhow, I’ve always had a sort of love/hate feeling towards horse racing. I love the horses, but there’s a lot about the “sport” (business) that I hate.

I grew up going to Bay Meadows. The newspaper always had the racing program for each day and I’d make my picks and then follow up by watching “A Day at the Races” to see how well I did.

So it follows that I still watch the Triple Crown races every year, at least when I remember they’re on. I pretty much had nothing to do last Saturday and the Kentucky Derby was on, so I set the DVR to record it, pre-show and all, went grocery shopping and came home to watch. I even got Davey in on the watching. He looked in the paper to make his “pick.” Horse racing is pretty much the only horse event I seem to be able to get him a little interested in. He has sat through his share of “dancing horses” on my account. He’s also come to a few horse shows I rode in, and those have to be the most boring of all. It must be the wagering aspect that makes it more appealing.

NBC had this horrible “red carpet” show before the race. I really don’t care which B (now that I think about it, more like C) list celebrity went to Churchill Downs to wear a stupid looking hat and drink nasty mint juleps. It was really horrible.

After the “red carpet” show, the actual coverage started and usually they have some taped pieces on some of the favorite or notable horses. Not so much this year. They mostly focused on one of the jockeys (who ended up winning) and an obnoxious sounding trainer (he won too). There wasn’t as much focus on the horses. Lame.

So, I can tell Davey kind of wants me to pick one. I liked the name of the one he picked. Colonel...John? I can’t remember and I’m too lazy to look it up. Then I saw a filly was running. And she was big, 17 hands. She also had a pretty good (undefeated?) record as a 3 year old. So, Eight Belles it was.

My point in all of this description is that I was having a fun afternoon, watching horses. Davey actually seemed like he wanted to watch it with me. I even had a swig of his beer (shame on me). I found a good horse to root for and it was just a nice day, all around.

When they were putting the horses in the gate, I had the thought “please don’t let any horses break down.” Seriously. I think a lot of people think it doesn’t happen a lot, but it does. Anyhow, the thought came and then drifted off as the race started.

Then the race was over, the favorite one. The filly, Eight Belles came in second, which was pretty cool and everyone appeared to have a safe trip. By this time I had my girls out watching too, trying to get them into it.

I didn’t actually see her go down on the broadcast (I saw it later) but I saw the winner spook and dump his jockey as they went by her. I did see two vans/horse ambulances. I told Davey, “uh-oh, that’s not good.” The commentator mentioned she was laying on the track. I kept hoping they were somehow making her stay down, but when a horse is down on a track it’s never good.

The NBC coverage switches back to focusing on the winner until they can talk to one of the vets who reveals that they put her down with both of her front legs broken. I know pregnancy hormones played a part in this, but I completely lost it. I had to leave the room because I didn’t want to upset my kids, who remained oblivious. It was kind of strange, how much it upset me.

Basically, a 3 year old horse isn’t even completely done growing. They start racing them at 2. I should mention that Thoroughbreds are all given the same “birthday.” I can’t remember the rules off the top of my head, but it works out kind of like grades in school. You need to be born in a certain bracket of time to be eligible for Kindergarten, it’s not based on your exact age.

There’s a really good documentary about horse racing. It might be called “Jockey” or something like that. It focuses on jockies, but there’s a lot about horses “breaking down” (basically snapping a leg in the middle of a race). It’s hard to watch.

I told myself I was going to keep the horse racing bit to a paragraph, but now you see what happens if I start going into “horse talk.”

I had some other stuff. I went to Target yesterday to get some birthday cards. Is everyone born in May? Why are there so many cards with fart humor? I was astonished. It seemed like every other birthday card had some sort of fart joke on it. If you go to buy a Mother’s Day card this week, check out the birthday cards and see what you think.

As soon as Davey puts the video up, I should have a link to Roan’s first performance in a play called “What’s Missing.” She had the role of Cat 3. I’ll write about that next time. I have to get the girls ready to go to the library/park.