Sunday, July 22, 2012

Why would I catch the vomit?

Most people, especially women, know what comes along with raising children.  The late nights, early mornings, saggy boobs, the "mommy shelf" belly, incessant screaming, constant eating, nagging, whining, destruction of home, mind, body, life, and drained bank account.  But I believe there are a few things that got looked over on the radar of raising seemingly savages.  Earlier in life, I chose to back out of a medical career  likely dealing with other humans body waste only to realize that I had entered a life of constant poo, pee, vomit, spit, snot, gunky eyes, funky ears, stinky feet, boogers, runny noses, and a child's strong aversion to self hygiene...and so much more!

I was recently chatting with a friend online after posting about my adventures with juvenile upchuck and she was totally disgusted.  She does have two children herself but she is also currently pregnant so detailed talk about my children's vomit was probably a stomach churning event.  However, this discussion brought to my mind just how many repulsive barf incidents I have encountered lately.  There were so many times in the past where my children would so kindly hand me the contents of their stomachs and I wouldn't even flinch.  I just thought, "hey, this is a mom's life" and went on about my business.

Just last week I went on a vacay with my whole family to Myrtle Beach, SC where we made the ALWAYS bad decision to visit a local carnival.  Carnies, sketchy rides and funnel cake are never a good idea anyway but what do ya do?  My oldest nephews, Taylor 14 and Cole 12, wanted to ride the Gravitron several times with me.  Now, I know I'm just 21, okay okay 29, but going around and around and around does nothing for a stomach of any age.  As we are exiting the ride, Cole says, "Shannon, I'm seriously about to throw up".  What do I do?  Stick my damn hands out and catch his dinner.  Why?  I don't know.  It's like my brain shut down and said, "Catch those chewed up french fries, NOW!!"

Nevertheless, I put that incident behind me.  After the beach, we drive to my parents house to stay a couple of weeks for the summer.  I end up getting pretty sick with the flu or malaria or the plague.  Needless to say, I was dying.  Of course I pass it on to my youngest and one night it hits him like a ton of bricks.  With my whole family and a few friends standing around, I see Collin gagging and what do I do?  I stick out my damn hands and catch his dinner.  Why?  I don't know.  Brain shut down again I reckon.

Speaking to my pregnant friend and hearing her aversion to catching throw up makes me wonder what is wrong with me?  After all, I quit being an emergency medical professional because I couldn't deal with other people's bodily fluids.  The one career that repulsed me has become not only one that goes on 24/7/365, but one that I will probably never be able to quit!  Sure, my kids will grow up and move out one day.......Hallelujah!!  Then they will bring their own pooping, peeing, spitting, boogery, vomiting bundles of joy to me....and it starts all over.  Sheesh.