Buttercup

Last year, our friend Edson (who is on a mission now) was messing around with the young Korean boys in our ward, teaching them to say, "Listen up, buttercup!"

And now this is "A Thing" for all the young kids in the ward, no matter what language they speak. Even Phoebe has picked up on it. 

In fact, whenever there is a phrasal verb that includes the preposition "up," you can pretty much assume that "buttercup" is coming after it.

She'll often say, "Pick me up, buttercup!" rather than "Hold me!"

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We still don't think she has a stomach bug. My kids just happen to have very sensitive gag reflexes. Half of them were formally diagnosed with GERD. The other half, well, based on how much they spit up as infants I'm pretty sure most of them could have been diagnosed with GERD if I had pursued such a thing. But usually the GERD diagnosis came with other things—like Benjamin was diagnosed with GERD in the NICU and Alexander was diagnosed with GERD when he was diagnosed with laryngomalacia. And Zoë was diagnosed with GERD when she spent the first year of her life screaming her head off (she's the only one we specifically asked for reflux medication for, I think).

All that is to say that my kids have always thrown up. A lot. 

Believe me, I know. 

I understand it's not normal, but it feels normal for our house. So I can talk about it like it's normal, right? 

Kids just throw up. Maybe not all kids. But my kids. 

Rachel was told she had an "underdeveloped" esophagus (or something) and would probably "grow out of" spontaneously vomiting (when laughing or crying or coughing or whatever) "by the time she finished middle school."

And...she has.

But, boy, did she throw up a lot before she grew out of it!!

All that is to say that Phoebe has the same cold that everyone in the family has had. Her nose is a mess and I'm sure her post-nasal drip is out of control...because it keeps triggering her gag reflex...and once that happens...her stomach must be emptied.

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Last night Andrew made chicken soup with rice for dinner. It was delicious. 

And for dessert we had carrot cake, courtesy of Rachel, and equally delicious.

I ate beside Phoebe and she kept gagging, so I pulled out an old sour cream container to act as a...receptacle. She was determined to not throw up. 

She kept telling herself, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Don't throw up, buttercup!"

At one point she grabbed the container and did a teeny little blurp into it, but nothing major. 

"I don't need that bucket because I'm not going to throw up!" she kept saying during cake. "I am not going to throw up. I'm not."

A few minutes later she grabbed the bucket and I tried to stop her...because I was afraid she was going to do something weird like play with the little bit she'd already spit up?? I don't know—kids are weird!

"Hey, don't grab the bucket unless you're going to throw up, okay?" I said, reaching for it.

"I am going to throw up!" she said casually and then just...I mean...she filled the bucket.

And then asked for more cake.

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It really wasn't as bad as yesterday during breakfast. 

Phoebe has been asking for "breakfast tia" lately (breakfast...tortillas...she wants a quesadilla every morning). So I made her a quesadilla in the microwave and also prepared some guacamole. We got avocados for Christmas and they are just barely ripe...so we ate our Mexican food without guacamole and I've been making the kids eat avocado with everything else since (so we can get rid of them). 

They don't mind (most of them like avocado). 

Phoebe wanted more and more avocado with her breakfast. So I gave her more and more. 

And then she gagged...and partially digested guacamole flooded the table. 

It just...was so much guacamole...all over the table. 

I don't even know how it was so much because I only used one avocado and there was still enough in the bowl to give her "more" after I finished cleaning up all the avocado she'd thrown up. 

How she even managed to eat guacamole after that, I don't know. I couldn't do it. Like, I gave her more guacamole, but I just couldn 't even take a bite myself. I could hardly tell the difference between what she'd thrown up and what was in the bowl. 

I did make more guacamole for lunch today, however, and ate it just fine.