And then it got worse

I feel as though I have crossed a major mommy threshold…that now, more than ever, I truly am a mother. Last Friday, I received the ultimate Mommy Annointment. My child puked on me.

I’m not talking baby-sized spit-up that adorns the shoulders of new moms everywhere. I’m talking full-blown vomit spewed onto half of my body – my left shoulder, arm and entire leg. I’m talking warm liquid mixed with chunks, soaked into my clothing. Sounds gross, right? Imagine having it on you.

Friday night (my in-laws were over for dinner), my daughter was prancing around the house as she normally does. She had a few bites of dinner and shortly after eating, got a very strange look on her face – a combination of fear and extreme sadness – and we new something was wrong.

“What’s wrong, Sweetie?” I asked.

She took a few steps towards me and that’s when Puke-athon 2011 began. The first round hit the living room floor and Adeline, obviously not feeling well, began crying. Thinking it was over, I scooped up my little puker to comfort her, and that’s when she really let loose – unloading the day’s contents of her stomach all over me.

I could hear Joey saying, “Run to the kitchen, go to the kitchen. Liz!!! Kitchen!!!” in hopes that I could get Addy over the sink or garbage before round 3 arrived. But I couldn’t move. I was stunned at what had just happened and was trying to process that the warm sensation on half my body was from vomit. And I was also literally dripping in puke, as was my daughter.

I hobbled to the kitchen with Addy, trying to calm her down, because despite my barf-enhanced wardrobe, my heart really was breaking for her. She seemed so scared and upset by the whole thing.

Joey grabbed her from me and suggested I head to the basement to throw all my clothing in the washing machine. This time, I listened and moved quickly.

And there I stood, naked, in our basement, hoping someone upstairs would remember I was down there and bring me a robe or blanket. Of course, I knew the priority, as it should be, was getting Adeline cleaned up and settled down, but I couldn’t help but think, as I shivered in the basement, “Hey! Don’t forget about me, the victim of Vomit Mania.”

Just as my eyes started scanning the room for something, anything to put on (“there’s wrapping paper over there. Some old rags here. I think I saw some duct tape.”), Joey ran down with my robe.

Once upstairs, I saw that my little girl was still shaken up, but quieting down. It was clear she was exhausted, so after a little water and some teeth brushing, Addy fell right to sleep.

Oh, it doesn’t end there, Folks.

The next morning, Adeline woke with a smile on her face and the desperate need for something to drink. We got her a sippy cup of milk (her usual breakfast beverage), which she slammed in seconds while sitting snuggled on her Daddy’s lap. And then she threw up all over him. Despite my concern for my daughter’s health, I laughed. It was good to know that she doesn’t discriminate between us. No, she shares the Vomit Love with all. So this time, I sent Joey to the basement to fend for himself and ran upstairs with Addy to get her cleaned up.

Since barfing on both of her parents, Adeline has kept everything down and her disposition is back to World’s Most Energetic Toddler. Our clothing has remained puke-free for 48 hours. Let’s hope that trend continues, because I prefer chunk-free attire.

• ← The Exorcism, as performed by my daughter
• Because it melts my heart →