Ralph...

I cannot believe this! Today is my last full day without the kids. I have so many fun things I want to do! But, alas, they’ll have to wait. Last night I was drifting off with a good book…I woke around midnight to turn the light off and I felt very hungry. Or so I thought. “That’s strange.” I said to myself, “Flip over and go to sleep.” As I did just that, my stomach felt like it was jiggling around inside of me, empty and starving…but I ignored it and went to sleep. Around 1:45 am I woke again. Still, that jiggly, “my stomach is empty” feeling persisted. I lay in bed, thinking perhaps I’d rummage the pantry for a few pretzels. I slid back in bed to sit up for a bit and realized I didn’t have the strength to make it to the kitchen. So…I woke T and asked him to get the pretzels for me. “This is strange” I thought to myself, again. He was happy to fetch them, or so I thought. Only a moment after voicing my request he rolled back over and asked me why I needed a handgun. (WHAT does my husband dream about???) Finally I woke him and again, requested pretzels and this time, a garbage can. I was beginning to think the feeling might be the grown up feeling you get when you’re going to be sick. When I was a kid, it was the “sweaty cheek” feeling…do you know this feeling? My sisters do. It’s like the inside of your mouth sweats and it’s the terrible sensation that comes prior to hugging the thrown…well…the sweaty cheek sensation wasn’t there this time. As I scooted to the edge of the bed I realized the inevitable. I was going to be sick. I ran to the bathroom and I will spare you the rest. My precious husband knew just what to do – this post is sort of disgusting…sorry.

When we were dating we had this talk about how you want people to respond to you when you’re throwing up. T prefers to be left alone. I, on the other hand, want my mom. This is what she ALWAYS did when I got sick as a child. She’d run to the bathroom with me and simultaneously hold my hair back and wipe my face with a cool damp rag. She’d gently say things like, “There, there now. It’ll be okay.” Once I was finished, she’d pour me a little cup of Listerine mouth wash (from under the counter in her bathroom). Then she’d help me back to the sofa/bed and she’d clean the bathroom. Ahh…a mother’s love. I relayed all of this to T during our “this is how to treat me when I’m sick” conversation. Should we marry, he’d have quite large shoes to fill in that department. I’m proud to tell you he’s done VERY WELL!

The first time I threw up (by the way, I’m laughing at myself as I write this – I can’t believe I’m posting about this!) post marriage I was pregnant with MW. I’d been making T’s sandwich and something about the lunch meat didn’t sit well with me. My pregnancy with MW was four months of constantly feeling like I was going to puke, dry heaving regularly, but rarely actually puking…so on that particular night I made my way back to our bedroom and sat down. The floor in our bedroom is quite strange. It’s 1/3 hardwood and 2/3 green carpet (which will one day go!). So I sit on a chair that’s near the edge of the hardwood, facing the bed…and I begin telling T that I feel sick…yada yada yada…I’m getting the sweaty cheek feeling…he’d heard it a million times at this point and paid me very little attention. I didn’t think I’d do anything more than dry heave, so I decided to stay put as the feelings came…bad call. It was the real deal. T abandons what he’s doing and runs to me. Out loud, he says, “trash can” and bolts toward the bathroom, then he stops in his tracks and says, “hold hair back” and runs to me and then stops in his tracks and says, “washcloth” and runs to the bathroom, then stops short and says, “no, trash can!” He grabbed the can, and we made it to the bathroom with stops all along the way…the floor (hardwood and carpet), can, then sink, then toilet. That sweet man cleaned up every bit of my mess! I always close my eyes when I get sick. I never even saw that mess. I also always cry…he was a dear.

Last night he came through for me again! That is the first time I’ve thrown up in as long as I can remember from something other than pregnancy. We ate at this Arby’s converted to a Chinese take out joint. Mind you, on the recommendation of a friend. (T and I ate different things...) I am NEVER going to eat there again. I guess when you grow up the sweaty cheek feelings begin to subside…I also didn't cry last night.
All this to tell you: I’m in bed. I’ve eaten about five pretzels and have had half a cup of coffee…ick! No more coffee until I’m “myself” again. My stomach still feels a little unsettled. T offered to stay home from work today, but I couldn’t let him. If the kids were home…well that would be another story. So…here I lay, dreaming of all I’d planned to do today. What a reminder that I am not in control…