This was written a couple of weeks ago, just forgot to post it. 

There are times as a parent that I feel like one of those plate spinning acts. You know the guy whose special talent is to spin glass plates on skinny poles or his nose or something? He dances around from plate to plate giving them just the right amount of 'spin' to keep them revolving and most importantly, not crashing.  Well, I'm sure the plate guy has had his share of 'off' days when the plates seemed to be crashing more than spinning.  If I were the plate guy this week I would have had to invest a lot of money in more plates because it's definitely been more of a plate crashing week than a plate spinning week. Now my disclaimer here is not that I'm complaining. I'm, uh, describing--for humor, history and for maternal kinship for any moms that happen to read this.

OK, back to my plate analysis---my plates had been balancing quite well that day--all three kids napped in unison which is a huge accomplishment. Yes, I was expertly spinning my plates, then CRASH! One plate went down when Lydia threw up all over her room--and she had eaten her weight in banana pancakes that morning so it was a lot. Ok, Ok, I can handle this, I still have my other plates in perfect motion and balance. Lydia was in need of a bath (I wasn't prepared enough to hold back her lovely locks) and this girl that normally loves her bath wouldn't bathe unless I was in the shower with her.  So, Lydia and I are getting the regurgitated food cleaned off of us and then CRASH another plate falls as Benson starts to cry and soon he worked himself into a frenzy and was crying like I've never heard him cry since he was yanked from the womb.  He was in his crib so I knew he was safe and I'm pretty o.k. with crying but still, this was a wail--it was piercing even my tough heart. I had to just let it go while we finished the shower. As I'm exiting the shower still holding the crying Lydia and trying not go feel too guilty about benson's meltdown I see Grace wading through the remnants of Lydia's banana pancakes!  CRASH my last plate bites it!  As an added bonus Bocce was outside barking and whining to come in constantly which kind of counts as a crying child, right?  Adds to the story anyhow.

So, now I had to triage the situation. Who needed me the most? Well, Bocce was an easy answer, she could just keep on annoying the neighbors and we could apologize later. Benson was in a contained situation and the fact that he was crying meant that he was very much alive so he was prioritized lower. Then it was toss up between cleaning up the vomit and Grace or settling the vomiter who was not about to release her monkey like grasp on my body. I should add that first, even before my mental triaging, I called for backup. Ryan was strongly advised to make this an early day from work--and he was reminded that my sanity depended on it.  I eventually was able to entice Lydia with TV (which also kept Grace out of trouble) and some juice. Benson eventually cried himself to sleep and I was able to get most of the vomit smell out of the carpet. Bocce was finally released from her backyard exile and even tried to help with the clean up process (gross, I know).  By the time Ryan arrived home it looked like everything was under control and he probably wondered why his wife was unable to handle three kids at home by herself :)

So, needless to say from there on out it was wobbly plate territory. Lydia was sick for 4 days which entailed things coming from both ends and quite a sour disposition, to put it nicely.  When she wasn't having a tantrum over some minute detail such as the color of her spoon she was asking to be held. Normally I would relish this extra cuddle time but the six week old latched onto me for roughly 1/3 of the day and the other 2 year old kind of put a wrench in the 'cuddle all day' plans. Right when Lydia was showing some slight improvement in her projectile body fluids and when we were thinking Grace was safe, Grace woke up with a full blown case of it. She handled it better at first. She happily chirped 'I threw up!' then the next day 'I threw up at Northstar!' (which she did, all over the table).  Then the tantrums started and is was some very strong deja vu.

So after a lot of laundry, zofran, motrin, carpet cleaner and sleep we have all come out of it in one piece. My plates feel like they are spinning a little less precariously these days.  To all the other plate spinners out there, relish those well balanced days and um. . . blog about the rest so you can laugh at it later.