Saturday, April 3, 2010

In sickness and in health...mom-style

We opted out of a playdate yesterday when the Other Child was throwing up, thinking that a road trip to Philly and pukies weren't an awesome mix.  But then, irony rules the world... so last night at the playground, Andrew started puking.

I apparently drew the "short straw," so I was nominated to camp out with Pukey-Face in our bed all night.  Although, I actually love snuggling sick Littles.  Very primal and perfect.  The crying/whining/clinging sick stuff by day, not so much.

Two thoughts I have about sick little Andrew....

#1.  He is the Cutest Puker Ever.  No joke.  He's calm and relaxed and sweet and stinkin' adorable, even mid-puke.  I feel like we can see his true soul during puking; it's this wise, gentle little spirit.  Yesterday, he just looked up at me afterwards and said: "That was not a good puke." And then went back to playing.

I love him.

#2. After doing a bit of middle-of-the-night-kid-puking duties, it was a bit jolting to be awoken at 6:30AM (on a Saturday morning) by a little face 2 inches from my face saying, in absolute seriousness: "So Mommy, why did Grandma Lynn have to die?"  Not sad, just curious.

Dude.  I love him with all my heart, but the pre-dawn life/death questions?  I don't think I can deal with them.  Not even that I'm not willing to delve into philosophy with my 3-year-old...just that I truly can't even process the question before 9AM.  So his sweet little expectant face just got a "huh?" face back (one of my specialties), instead of the in-depth discussion he was probably seeking.  I don't know if I ever did answer the question, in fact, or if I did...it might not have made much sense.  It's all a blur.

Anyway...a few puking moments aside, he seems perfectly A-okay. No fever, achiness, nothing.   So now I wish we'd hung out with lil' William at a playdate anyway, since it broke my boys' hearts for no reason.

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