(not so) good morning

This morning I woke up to Max's voice in my room at 7, which is bad... This only happens when there is something wrong with Ben. Since my room is downstairs in the basement I can't ever hear if Ben is crying or anything so Max is kind enough to be my eyes and ears up there. Well, as opposed to the regular "Amy, Ben is crying" I heard, "Amy, Ben is throwing up in his bed!" Awesome. The first thing I do is get on the phone with Melissa, before I'm even to Ben's room. I knew I was going to need help/moral support. Here's a little secret, I DON'T DO VOMIT. EVER. But lucky me, Ben picked the morning when his dad was out of town (of course) which left me to fend for myself in this nasty situation. I went in and poor little Ben looked so sad and sick and I couldn't help but feel so bad for him. So I sucked it up, got Ben on the couch with a puke bowl, a blanket, and a towel under his head and started cleaning up the mess. Well, wouldn't you just assume it would stop there? Of course not. Then Sam comes out to me and tells me that her stomach doesn't feel good either. Great. So I get her the same set-up as Ben on the other couch. Poor kids. I finally got a second so I called their dad just to let him know what was going on and to just let him know that I was going to give Ben some Motrin for his fever. Luckily, he understood my aversion to kid puke and agreed to let their mom (who isn't usually at the house) come over and take care of them. She came over, but not before Ben and Sam took turns barfing on different sides of the room. My first actual crisis (besides the time Sam had a bloody nose so bad that the basement looked like a crime scene) and I'm doin' ok. The little munchkins are fine now, too. Whew.