Yesterday for me was a mom’s worst nightmare. The tiniest Smo had, against my better judgement, a piece of string cheese. You know, the cheese with all that dairy she’s not supposed to have… yeah… I’m quite the glutton for punishment, apparently! Any parent out there that has a kid with a milk allergy knows where this is going. For the rest of you would-be empathizers, we had a little case of vomit-the-rest-of-the-day-all-over-my-mom-osis, and yes, literally- All. Day. Long.
Boob milk? Blagghhhh…
Applesauce? Yaaahghhhhhh.
GRAPES? Blupakahhhh
BANANAS? Yumm–ohaghhh
PEDIALYTE?! Anything?!!
AHGhdiofheaoiwehfeadlkfjdlfjwghhhhaghhhhhhhhh
You get the gist.
Before I move forward, I have to back up. I need to paint this picture..Because it wasn’t as soon as the cheese hit her mouth that we had to perform a gastrointestinal exorcism. It was after we had raided the fridge and fell asleep in my sister’s recliner for an hour. She finally come home to find us clonked out like Goldilocks and the two little blonde-headed rascals and proceeded to kick me out of her chair. Moving to the couch was the last thing I remember before Tiny Smo sprawled out on top of me, boob-in-mouth and comatose. Now picture it: I’m so far gone to Sleepytown, that on any other day it would’ve taken me an hour to come back. There we are in all our snoozing glory when Tiny Smo fidgets juuust right… and out comes a line of chunks, heave after heave. She’s spewing on the couch, herself–like everything in the path was down for the count. And I’m over here in a haze trying to piece together what’s happening. (In my Kevin Hart voice)…noooo… I wasn’t ready!
Big sis said later that I didn’t even flinch, I just sat there and stared at the baby- Which I totally believe. Blind as a bat, I’m sitting there squinting at this little bath bomb, thinking, “Is this a dream? Is this kid really throwing her weight in puke up all over me right now or am I just peeing my pants.. Why is there so much? Someone turn off her water valve… It just keep comi—”
“MALLORY! GET OFF MY COUCH, SHE’S PUKING EVERYYYYWHEREEEEE!!!!”
Ok, so yeah.. Not a dream… Maybe.. Definitely a surreal one if it is… Hippity Hop all the way to the Baby Boiler (shower, either way) and as I’m slowly coming back to reality, my nightmare has been slightly derailed by possibly the best sister ever. Instead of telling us to pack our crap and hit the highway like any sane person would, she told us to stay. To get in the shower. She ran around like a mad woman for a good fifteen minutes grabbing towels, cleaning puke (poor girl..), running water, doing all the mama hen duties, etc etc. In the moments following, I was just incredibly thankful that I wasn’t alone, which yes, I know, seems so dramatic.. But it made that craptastic mom moment easier to deal with. To handle what was happening without losing my mind in the process.
Reader’s Digest Version, We spent the rest of the day puking, nursing, changing clothes, sleeping– in no particular order. Every blanket my sister owns was used and christened by Tiny Smo’s stomach contents that day. Poor Trisha. Poor previously-non existent laundry pile… All the girl wants is her house to stay clean for more than 20 minutes and she had US there!
Finally the end of the day is rolling around. Everyone is tired of swimming in puke and showering for the 4th time, and I feel so bad I’ve stayed and she’s STILL puking. Discouraged and thinking, “well maybe it isn’t from her piece of string cheese.. Maybe I should get her away from her cousins in case it’s a virus”, I tell Big Sis I’m going home to fester in the vomit and let her have some peace. She adamantly says I’m not going anywhere. We are eating dinner and it will all be fine. She’s suggests we stay the night. Again, I’m overwhelmed by her. And the generosity she has exhumes. How could I ever be that kind of mom? Or person in general? And how did we ever make it without one another? (Though I feel like what I do for her pales in comparison for what she does in return!)
About that time, she remembers there’s pedialyte in the cabinet. Of course there’s pedialyte in the cabinet. I often joke to her how she’s excessively organized and over prepared for whatever life throws at her- torn clothes, uninvited guests, puking kids. Well, jokes on me because it always comes into my favor. Tiny Smo doesn’t even come up for air as she’s drinking this Pedialyte. We are all gathered in the kitchen enjoying the kids as dinner is on the stove… and we hear a gurgle. We hear a “bloop bloop”… you know it’s coming.
Ta-Da! At this point in the day, I didn’t even flinch. Just cover me, child. I couldn’t care less. It’s not like I could have moved fast enough, anyway. After the day we’d had, there was every reason in the book to be upset. A house that was no longer clean. A sink that would be finding more dishes soon. The towering laundry pile of blankets and hard-to-clean pillows… And now, a kitchen that would need to see a mop once again. The purge splashed so forcefully to the kitchen floor that it sounded just as it would when a woman’s water breaks in the movies.
Call it insanity.. Call it what you will. I death stare into Big Sis and scream, “Oh, Lawdy! My watah broke!!! Hep me Lawd!!!” Big sis and I laughed hysterically, until our eyes were filled with tears. I couldn’t catch my breath. She was clinging to the fridge to not fall over. My stomach hurt from laughing. After what seemed like ages, I stood in the pool of vomit as we attempted to compose ourselves. Big sis took off through the house once again.. but this time the laughter bellowed through the house and for a moment, laughter had broken us free from the strain that can be motherhood. I know I couldn’t do this alone. Today I realized that, as mothers, we’ve come so much closer as sisters. We are both winging this parenting thing most days, but I’ll tell you, she does it flawlessly and it’s inspiring. And no one will understand where you’ve come from, where you’ve been, and where you’re going like a sister can.
As she searched for more towels and clothes, I stood there with Tiny Smo, snuggling, smiling, puke running down both of us…And as she come trudging back in with a towel… all I could see was our Grandma. The Grandma who instilled so much goodness in her. The one who shines so brightly through her granddaughter and her very being..it makes me want to cry.
Our Grandma would be so in love with this moment. Our children, playing together. Sisters, reunited with a bond stronger than ever. Mothers, coming together to support one another.
The Sisterhood of Motherhood!
Hope y'all enjoyed our Guest Writer Mallory Smothers! We hope to feature more post from her in the future!
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