- Once when I was little, 5 or 6, I was really sick, something stomachy. Mother told me if I just puked I'd feel so much better. I didn't agree, so I fought the waves. Then my poor body failed me. I puked. It was awful. I was hysterical from the burning, acidic taste that shot up and out through my nose and throat. Just the smell, can trigger a reflex so strong in me...
- I was 18, working at Target. Jody was one of my"friends" there. She invited me to a party. I had two count them two plastic cups of beer. I am pretty sure there wasn't ONLY beer in those cups...I found myself alone with some guy, to which I began screaming and shouting for Jody. Who had decided to leave me and go hook up with some other guy at the party...yeah, nice friend. We were "asked" to leave since I was such a scene maker! I'm not sure how I got home, but I remember being home, I called out to Mother; "Mom, I'm drunk. Are you mad?" those would be the last words I spoke for a good six hours. I spent the next six hours dry-heaving into the toilet. I could hear mother chuckling. Mother said that had I not had such a violent reaction she would have been angry, but thought I'd learned my lesson. To this day, I can NOT drink beer. I can not stand the sight of light beer either. (Hubby drinks dark, so that is ok)
- I was 22, it was my birthday and I had asked Howie to bring out his krewe of Vulcans so we could ride around on the Fire truck. I had had too many shots and nearly fell off the back end. I puked all over several of the guys trying to hold me on. I was SO embarrassed.
Now you must be thinking: Well she's had two kids, what about morning sickness. Oh, I had it, I just never gave in. My morning sickness lasted ALL DAY LONG. But I fought it off by eating crackers,popcorn and pickles. YES pickles. Hamburger sliced and jars a day!
So now you are thinking babies puke: Yes. YES they do. Urps were never an issue for me. They happened shortly after eating, looked like milk and didn't have "the smell". I remember one time Butter was maybe 4 months old and this fountain of puke came shooting out of her, I mean she could have filled a bucket. I shouted out "THE BABY PUKED!!!!" Rob knew that something was wrong because a) I didn't normally shout this and b) I was holding her upside down and kind of shaking her like I was ringing her out, so she could breath. Poor thing had it out her nose and mouth. She couldn't cry because she was in shock. Once I got her air way cleared she howled. That was the most frightful thing I've ever gone through as a mother. Butter wasn't much for throwing up. She like me I think had such a terrible experience that we at all costs will ourselves not to puke.
Along came Roo. He is a puker. He can cough or gag himself into puking. If he doesn't like what is for dinner, he will gag himself. The warning stands: You puke at the table, you will eat nothing but what you puked over for three days straight. Actually, I've even threaten to make him eat whatever he puked up. (NO, I WOULDN'T MAKE HIM! But both kids know me enough that I follow through, so they don't test me.) I have thrown away toys, I have dumped drawers full of clothes when they complain about being bored. I have had them leave the table and go to bed without dinner if they complain about what is served. I have a dear friend that calls me mean. It makes me laugh.
If we don't pay our bills what happens? If we break the law, what happens?
If we are cruel to others, what happens? If we sin against God and don't confess what happens?
BAD things happen. Consequences happen...
Several times now, he has woken up in the middle of the night and puked. For everyone of these times Rob has been home. Except last night. Who ever said God doesn't have a sense of humor LIED. Roo was happy and chatty at 3:30am. I was battling my instinct to vomit at the smell and sight. I sprayed some carpet cleaner, rang out a rag drenched in dreft and for good measure added some fabreeze, laid towels down and tried to go back to sleep. I HATED leaving the mess, it absolutely killed me to think of a mess being left, but I also knew that one more second on my knees and there would be quadruple the mess, because if my dam breaks it will make up for the years and years of holding back.
I sent a text to Rob last night about what happened and how I left it, so when he walked in the door this morning just before 11am he hugged me and said "Where's the bucket?"
I sure love that man! And once again I made him promise not to leave me.
Oh, you didn't know that story? short version I haven't been away from my husband alone in nine years. Not since he went to the Virgin islands and left me home alone with the hot tub in winter. Nobody told me I needed to check the water level...the water got too low, froze and cracked the tub. My reaction was: See, if you leave me alone bad things happen! Don't leave me.
Holding true to form: nothing broke, but puke happened! Does this mean I have some confessing to do? Believe me I spent last night asking for God to clean out my heart if there was anything in there that needed to be OUT.