It’s time for a little confession. Or maybe it’s a big one? Either way, it’s confession time.
Are you ready for this?? You might be shocked and appalled! I hope you don’t judge me harshly. Okay here goes….
I don’t do puke. I can’t handle the sight of it, the smell of it, the sound of it. If a kid so much as dry heaves, I’m heaving along with them. If I hear them actually throw up, I lose it. And if they miss the bowl, I’m in big trouble. I JUST CAN’T DO IT!!!
Tonight was youth and when the kids got home, Em let me know that Isaac threw up a couple of times at youth, was still feeling nauseated and looked green. I have to admit I was certain she was teasing me. And then I was horrified! She was telling the truth!
Cue Psycho shower scene music!!!
Seriously. This is my worst nightmare. It has been a long time, at least a couple of years, since anyone in this family has had the stomach flu and I have been so thankful for that! But tonight that happy run came to an end.
I taught my big kids to throw up into a bucket away from mom’s hearing when they were little. Yup. That’s right. I’m THAT mom – the one who doesn’t wipe her child’s brow or hold their hair back for them as they lean over the toilet. I can’t. If I do, I puke. In this area of motherhood I am a complete failure. I can sorta deal with the bowl contents (hold far away as possible, shallow breathe through my mouth, think happy thoughts when I dump it and flush…) but only after they are in the bowl! Just the idea of having to hear it or help the kids mid hurl makes me feel like I am going to be sick (hope that’s what has my stomach turning – the thought of them hurling – and that I am not about to be a victim of this flu). I’ve sent Isaac to bed with gravol, a bucket and instructions to call me if he needs me. I’m praying he can handle it on his own because I not sure I can.