Overwhelming Wednesday

The Maples had let go of their leaves over the past week, covering the grass in a thick, brown canvas. My parents are not in a condition right now to be raking, so I volunteered my kids for the job. A half day of school was looming on the calendar and a leaf raking party seemed the perfect antidote to their typical boredom. 

When Nolan asked if a friend could come over on the half day, I gave my permission contingent on the promise of their help at his grandparents'. And that is how I ended up taking four kids and a newborn with a few rakes on an excursion to Trumansburg, Wednesday afternoon. 

Auburn immediately announced she would not be staying outside with us. I didn't argue.  Nolan and his friend raked a pile and spent the majority of our time there taking turns burying each other in it. Sam slept in his car seat in a warm patch of sun nearby.  Gerret ended up being my best help. He stuffed leaves tightly in bags, sometimes so tightly that the bags burst at the seams.  We couldn't have cleared as much ground as we did without the gracious assistance of Aunt Elise when she arrived home from school. 

Not only was it a half day, but Patrick was scheduled to be home late that night, so I was on my own for dinner with a fussy baby, a girl set on creating chaos and clutter, and two boys who were by this time both laying around complaining of different ailments. I took Nolan's temperature. Low grade fever. I didn't realize how badly Gerret really felt until I went to get him for dinner and found a pale and sweaty boy  in his bed. His stomach was not able to handle dinner, he told me. So the other three of us ate in complete silence as the fussy baby had finally fallen asleep in his swing in the corner of the dining room. 

We ate in complete silence (or as completely silent as Auburn can be when I'm constantly hissing "be quiet") until we heard a splash coming from the boys' room. I jumped up in alarm, hoping not to find what I was expecting to find. I hoped in vain. There was Gerret, bent over the side of his bed, a stream of vomit still falling to the puddle of yellow on the carpet. Nolan described it as good aim. His reasoning:  None of it ended up in the bed. The commotion woke up the baby who turned red screaming while I helped Gerret and scrubbed furiously at the carpet.