Back From the Grave

I know you've been checking back here repeatedly, dear followers (Mom), and must be curious about my absence. It's nothing exciting. Just a stomach virus. Last Monday night I lived through the one experience that I had been dreading: baby projectile vomiting. I used to see friends posting all the time on Facebook about their child being sick and throwing up all over the place. Each time I read something like that I'd begin furiously praying, "please God no may it never be" over and over.

And yet - it happened. I was putting D to bed after a normal day and a normal bedtime routine. While I was wrapping her blankie around her she softly coughed, spat out her pacifier, and proceeded to go all Exorcist on me. Wow. A wall of chewed tomatoes, corn, string cheese, yogurt, blueberries and milk sprayed across the bed, missing the bed entirely (small thanks) and landing on me and the floor. I was stunned. I was literally frozen while it happened, much like I'd imagine most folks are during extremely traumatic moments.*

Anyway, it happened um, around 11 more times that night so after 5 loads of laundry, 3 sessions of floor mopping, and two more baths, I knew I had been baptized into a more mature level of motherhood. That's the worst that motherhood gets, right? RIGHT? Okay, whew.

On a not so funny side note, both Russ and I got sick as well. Only Russ got sick hardcore, as Russ has been known to do - summer of 2007 anyone?* 8 And now, even though he's better, he's losing weight as if, oh, say he's training for a half marathon. Only he's not. But I am. But I have lost jack diddly and am starting to think about secretly adding mayonnaise to everything I cook for him. Can anyone tell me why this happens with men? I can't figure out how I can run 25 miles a week and still hold onto weight like my body is some toddler clutching her toys to her: MINE!

*Yes, I just compared my child throwing up to the trauma of say, refugees in a war-torn nation or surviving cancer. Don't you want me for your therapist?

**Ugh. I don't even like remembering the summer that Russ had some impossible to diagnose virus that made him run a high temp for 3 months and zapped all strength from him. Everyone avoided us like the plague and I had to mow the yard. THE TRAUMA I'VE ENDURED, PEOPLE!