Somebody forgot I don't do puke...

I can't stomach puke. At all. Never have. Somebody pukes...I puke. Becoming a mother didn't change this fact of life. Since I became a mother, puke has been M's job. Poop is my job. Puke is his job.

This morning when A woke up naseuated, I chalked it up to stress. She's taking a very important test that all 4th graders have to pass in order to go to the next grade. She's going to do fine but there is a lot of pressure on the students, teachers and the school to excel...and I just think maybe subconsciously she feels some pressure. Anyway, when I woke her up this morning, she asked me not to fix her any breakfast. She was naseuated. Okay...just get up and try to get ready. If you don't get better after your test, I'll come get you. Okay...she tries...but ends up making it to the toilet just in time. Lucky for her daddy...he doesn't actually LIKE puke. Still this test is really important so she insists she'll feel better now...and goes on to school. I got a call at 10:30 this morning that she had thrown up all over herself. So I fly out to the school (not thinking about the fact that she had to get in my car with puke all over her...I just wanted my baby) to pick her up. I saw a city policeman, a parish deputy, and a state trooper and didn't get stopped once...today must be my lucky day. A must have warned them about my puke phobia...because they had tried...really they had...to clean her up. But ugh....I'll spare you the pukey details. It is enough to say...she stunk...really bad...really, really bad. Poor baby. When we got home, she took a good bath and I'm giving her Imetrol and clear liquids. I hate it when my baby is sick. I really don't want her to get sick again. For a lot of reasons...one very important reason is M isn't here to clean her up.

Well, I guess since I'm home from work unexpectedly...I should go try to tackle Mt. Fold-Me.