Well I celebrated Mother's Day to the max. Not that I needed a reminder that I am a Mom. Those reminders are seen every day with the little people running around and giving me love, and the evidence in saggy boobs that hang to what feels like my belly button. And the battle scars (aka stretch marks) of pregnancy. Which I would do all over again in a heartbeat. In fact I thought I was going to be entering that world again when I requested Leo to buy me a pregnancy test, but alas it was negative as it should be considering I'm on the pill!
But my reminder came at 1:57 AM on Mother's Day. I was on my hands and knees cleaning up puke. Projectile puke that was all over the wall and door and floor of the hallway outside of the bathroom since Sweet Girl didn't quite make it to the toilet. I did it without complaint as it's my job and I didn't mind it at all. I did it with a breaking heart as Sweet Girl was in the shower crying after puking her guts out and screaming I want it out of my hair. Poor kid. Then I slept with her in her bed to be there for her in the event she puked again. I did say a small prayer that she please not puke ON ME. But she was fine. And I slept like crap in her bed. And it made me extremely crabby on Sunday for the better part of the morning and early afternoon. But I turned out OK after a swim in the pool.
And overall the day was good.
the paradox of perspective
1 month ago