I've been working on a post since this weekend about my trip (I went!!!) and the ways that it has changed my life (dramatic sounding, but true). Instead of telling you all about that though, I'm going to tell you about how I got barfed on this morning.
I've worked with kids my whole life. Babysitter, Camp Counselor, Daycare/Elementary School Teacher. I've done it all. I've dealt with all things that come with taking care of kids. The good, the bad, and the gross. All I'm going to say is poopy swim diaper and I think anyone who has every encountered one will completely understand what I'm saying. I can deal with diapers, and poop, but the poopy swim diaper, a league of it's own.
One thing that I've always said I won't do in the realm of gross stuff though, is deal with throw up. As a babysitter, this was the only thing off the table. I would do it all, but not that. I called parents as soon as the throwing up started, and was out the door as soon as they got home. As a teacher I tried to get kids to the nurse so that I wouldn't have to encounter it, but the times it did happen in the classroom, I stayed as far away as possible until the custodial staff came in. Mostly I was afraid that if I tried to take care of it myself, I would get sick too. But also, I feel like there should be some things that you don't have to deal with. I've been sneezed on, coughed on, peed on. You name it. But barf, I've mostly been able to avoid. Until today.
Bean is sick again. She's been sick since a week or two before Christmas. It's frustrating, and heartbreaking. I mean, we can deal with it because it's not life threatening sick. I know there are people out there who have it much worse, and I feel for them, because my heart breaks seeing my Bean like this and I can't imagine what it must be like if it's worse. I took Bean to the doctor right after Christmas when she was coughing so hard that she was spitting up a little bit. They found an ear infection and the antibiotic seemed to take care of the cough/stuffy head too. She stopped the antibiotic Sunday and now the cough is back again. So yesterday when she couldn't get to sleep at nap time, I took her into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and sat rocking her. I was hoping the warmth and steam would help relax her so she could sleep. It didn't work fast enough though and she started coughing again. Hard. And then my poor Bean threw up, really threw up, for the first time in her life. She was so upset, which just made it all worse. More crying lead to more coughing which lead to more throwing up. It took all my motherly abilities to get her calm and stop the cycle. Especially since she doesn't like being dirty.
Lucky for her, she mostly missed herself when she threw up. Instead she somehow managed to throw up down my shirt. Yup. Down. My. Shirt. If you looked at me, you might not even realize that anything happened. And it was gross, don't get me wrong, but it wasn't that gross. Because during the time that I was sitting there, covered in Bean's breakfast, she was freaking out, and I wasn't me, the ordinary girl sitting in a room covered with throw up. I was Bean's mama, trying to make sure she was okay. Trying to get her to breath. Wiping off her hands and face, taking off her clothes, wrapping her up in a clean towel. All the sudden I understood why those parents rushed home when I was babysitting. It wasn't because they felt bad for me the babysitter, dealing with grossness. It was because their little one was sick and needed someone to calm them down, tell them everything would be okay and deal with whatever yuckiness that came along with that, and even though as a babysitter I would do the first two, it wasn't the same.
I'm continually amazed at the ways that Bean has changed me, the ways that I've grown, the things that I do and feel now. I love every minute. Even the hard, gross, covered in throw up ones.