My weak spot is vomit. This mommy does not do vomit. Some moms hug and sooth their children as the front of their clothes are covered in the stuff. I just can’t. Automatic gag reflex. Luckily my wonderful husband takes care of it. I don’t know what I would do with out him. I would most likely be sympathy-vomiting inside a hazmat suit while tending to my child. It’s terrible. Mommy fail.
Last night the 5 year old woke up and lost it all in his bed, then on the bedroom floor (luckily on the hardwoods), then in the hallway, again on the stairs, and then finally into the toilet where it belongs. All followed by a “Sorry I barfed.” Not even phased by what just went on. Totally like his dad. I would sob as a child when I got sick, honestly sometimes I still do. I always thought that when I became a mother something inside would just click and I would be able to handle it. Nope. I learned that lesson when my first born lost his broccoli when he was a little guy. Super-husband swept in to the rescue and saved me. As I said, I just don’t do vomit.
“Mom, sorry I barfed on your pillow. Oopsies.” Complete with a remorseful smile.
“Wow, guess my body didn’t want that stuff.”
“This is just the strangest day. I barfed again!”
“Why are my teeth chattering now? This is weird.”
“Can you brush my teeth and get out all of the barf?”
“My mouth had a lot of barf.”
He’s a champ. I’m just curious as to where he got the word “barf.” We don’t use that word. Puke, vomit, throw-up…all terms we’ve used. “Barf” another lovely term to add to the list that he thouroughly enjoyed using numerous times. I put on my rubber gloves and pulled my shirt over my nose and mouth and I went on to clean the house, dry-heeving and gagging along the way while my husband did the back rubbing and cleaning of the clothes and bedding. Hopefully this was just a fluke thing because I won’t be able to handle a barf bug going through the house. Gag.
How about you? Can you handle it?
Happy Friday my friends.