Are You There God, It's Me, Jenn

So. When you are a Mom, you are always "doing things". And things are always "happening". No? Yes. Your children get sick. Out of the blue. Maybe sometimes you can see it coming on but you ignore it because of the circumstances or just life is rushing by and it's easier to pretend it's all ok.

How about I'm in a restaurant picking up soup for my sick husband holding my sick Littlest and suddenly he starts whining and gets a funny look on his face and vomits profusely all over me, my shirt, the counter, the door to the restaurant, the floor and himself? How about he doesn't just do it once, not just twice, but how about three times again and again and again all over everything? He had eaten rice for lunch and we had just come back from the Pediatrician telling us both his ears are infected and slammo whammo lets add to the day vomitting in public. I felt for him. Absolutely. He was crying, I was almost crying for him and I was utterly embarrassed for the mess I knew I could not clean up. And the poor patrons who were actually consumming food, I'm sure they loved the show, the sounds that they heard in the whole process; very appetizing.

I drove home purposefully with no seat belt and took the shirt off the baby who immediately fell asleep in the car. The smell was lovely but he was calm and that I suppose is all that matters. I just kept holding him in the restaurant and telling him it was ok. What can you do? I could have walked out the door and left the mess and not bought the food. Not the right thing. I stood there and waited for the guy to bring up the food. With vomit all over me. Literally all over me.

It's been a crazy week and this just tops it off. Never mind I don't feel good; Mom's don't count. Keep going and keep doing. Naps? Who needs them? Just the baby. I'm just saying, even in this world of craziness and fast paced, I still believe in prayer, I still believe in good things, good karma, being kind to others even when ugly attitudes and ignorance is shown to you. All I'm asking for is a tiny bit of respit. Just tiny. Little. Nothing grand. I found myself driving home thinking, wanting, daring a police man to stop me. I think I just might have flung all the regurgitated food on my shirt at him. I guess God doesn't like ugly. That was not a nice thought so he didn't let my dare come to fruition. Good thing probably. I might be overnight jail if he did. See, everything happens for a reason now doesn't it?

Mommyhood does rock; for real. As I put the Littlest to sleep both for his nap (after we bathed the yuck off of him) and then tonight, he sweetly tells me in his most innocent whispers, "I love you so much mamma". Done deal. I'm in. Forever. Throw all the vomit in the world at me, I'm still in.

--J