Brave and Mighty

So.

We are at a school event tonight for the Oldest. A Holiday Make and Take Craft thing. I volunteered last year. I also realized last year that I had said "YES" to too many things so this year, I smartly refrained. There we are, all four of us, enjoying, having a good time, both of us taking turns with the Littlest so the other could stay with the big brother. Just having a good time. Lots of people, lots of kids to navigate through, parents too but what can you do? It's the nature of the beast. There were lots of cookies and apple cider with Christmas music playing in the background. I get a cookie for the Littlest, it was soft, like the kind they have at WalMart with icing on them? White soft ones? He keeps coming back to me for a bite. At some point, he choked on it and I bent down to help him and make sure he was ok. He was really gagging and next thing you know, to get the cookie back up, he kind of made himself throw up. Well, he really threw up. Like you know, vomit. All over the floor. Right there at the Make and Take in the Cafeteria with all the kids and parents right there around us. It's all over the floor, all over his shirt, all over his face and now God love it, all over his hands as he wiped them all over his cheeks. As I tried to stop him from doing that it was getting all over MY hands too. Nice.

I do what any good Mom would do and I call for my husband. He could not hear me so I really had to raise my voice, get a little more attention our way, you know? By then, people are gawking at the baby, and I don't want to leave the throw up for fear that some child will run right through it and slip and fall, bust their head and get vomit on their clothes; nice vision eh? So I'm riveted to the spot, wanting to take the clothes off the baby and calling for my honey, my sweet honey who could not hear me, or was he pretending not to hear me? The world will never know...

Other Mom's I know are coming up to me, "Oh, what happened, I hope he feels better" to which I reply, "No, he's fine, he just choked on a cookie". One lady who is a neighbor said to me twice, "oh I hope he feels better" even though I told her the first time he just choked on a cookie. I think she didn't believe me! I think she was insinuating that I brought him there with a virus or something! These people. I swear, some folks were looking at me like I was a three headed monster. Like 'how COULD you let your child throw up here?' and 'ewww, what IS that?' as if their child has never thrown up either. Please. So he finally looks up at me, and he gives me a look. THE look. First mistake (well second if you count the not hearing me call for help part). He gives me the same look the other people did. What the? Our eyes flew back and forth at each other (no words necessary at that point and if you're married you know EXACTLY what I mean) and he simply gets up and goes away. He comes back with a large amount of paper towels. By then I had asked someone I knew to please go find the janitor and explained the problem. I explained what happened as if she couldn't smell us from a mile away already... I took the shirt off the baby, we put chairs all around the area he threw up in so no one would walk through it or slip in it. And there I went, there I was, walking through the crowded cafeteria full of people with a half naked baby. Holding my head up high, being brave and mightly as all moms are, ignoring all stares and hushes, and pretending that we didn't stink or that it was not odd that he had no shirt on. I'm telling you, this is normal if you are a parent. Not the throw up part, but the predicament part.

Thank the Lord above that for the most part I am prepared for anything. I had a backup shirt and we were good to go. I washed him off in the bathroom and walla, good as new. He never skipped a beat. Neither did I. Now the Daddy, he probably skipped a couple of beats. I bet his heart did too. If you're a mom, you are always brave and mighty irregardless of the circumstances you are facing. If you're a dad, well, you're brave and mighty when there's a mouse in the house (and that's not very often). I suppose, that's as it should be. We still love you anyway.

--J