Last night as Kevin and I were getting into bed and said, "Ooh, my stomach doesn't feel so good." I was hoping and desperately trying to believe that perhaps I had just eaten something that disagreed with me. You see, I hate throwing up. I know that nobody likes to throw up, but I really think I would prefer death to vomit. I'm not trying to be overly dramatic, but to me it is just the worst! Plus, I have the irrational idea that I should be exempt from puking for the rest of my life because I did it so much when I was pregnant (and we just had the stomach flu last month! Once a year should be the limit.). But that is not how life works and what a bummer!
I was tossing and turning and chanting in my head, "You don't want to throw up. You don't want to throw up. You don't want to throw up." I started to chant with more conviction when Mason threw our door open and cried, "Make the wet go away!" I went over expecting to smell pee and realized real quick that that smell was not pee but puke. And. It. Was. Everywhere! All down the front, in his hair, on his face, in his ear. Oh no! I could no longer pretend that I wasn't sick. Even worse my son was sick. Even worse than that, he had class pictures and a preschool program the next day. Oh brother!
I have always hated having the stomach flu, but it is the worst when you are sick and you have to take care of kids (especially sick kids). But fortunately I have a great husband. And today I am ever so grateful I have a great husband. He stayed home and took care of all of us. What would I do without this man? I am not usually overly gushy/mushy/sickeningly sweet, but I am just so appreciative to him for swooping in and saving the day (well my day at least). I love him and I am a pretty lucky girl!
Abs (toilet bowl crunches)