Sunday, September 21, 2008
I'm your Mother, not your....
Barf Bag. Ok, so that's probably not what Jen at Absolutely Bananas was thinking of when she provided today's prompt, but that's all I've got right now.
I have had the most disgusting five days of my life. Hubby was away this week - from Tuesday till late Friday he was roughing it at a Hilton down south. Eating steaks and drinking scotch, while I was just trying to stay busy so as not to go crazy.
Half way through my stint as a single mom, I awoke Thursday at 4 am to the sounds of D2 crying. As I went to her room, I remember thinking I don't feel so good. What greeted me in her room was a whole lot of vomit. The next five days proved to be a whole lot of stomach flu for D2,me,D1, my inlaws and finally hubby. Yes, in that order. Oh, except D1 and D2 keep re-infecting each other and continue to be sick. I have seen enough vomit to last the rest of my life. Unfortunately, with the girls only at 18 months and 3 years, something tells me I have a lot more in store. Hopefully soon they will understand the wonderful toilet as receptacle. Not Mom as receptacle.
I'm your Mom, not your toilet.
Now, if you are thinking, way too much information there, let me tell you, you should have seen the details I typed up and erased!
I'm their Mom, but that doesn't mean I'm unselfish. While they were so sick and feverish, it gave me some time with them that I would be denied if they had been well. Miss Wiggles herself, D2, allowed me to rock her to sleep. I got to hold her, and stare down at her sleeping face - with it's cherubic chubby cheeks and streaky blond hair. I held her long past the point she fell asleep, just staring and cherishing. D1, too, fell asleep on my lap while watching tv. I was able to stroke her hair and stare down at her perfect little nose, feel her soft hair.
So D1 and D2, when you turn 13 and decide you hate me, remember, I'm your Mom, the one who will always take care of you when you are sick. Always. So at 13, remember, I'm your Mother not your enemy.