My post for Mother's Day:
Here's what they don't warn you about during Lamaze Class:
You will be awakened, two on the morning, by a piercing wail:
You'll leap awake, to the worst sound in the world. Vomit spewing.
Hit the light. Too late. Vomit all over the nice white bedsheets. Blankets. Pillows!
Oh, well. Resigned, you take hold of the kid, make soothing noises. "It's all right. Go ahead. It'll stop."
mr. delagar. (mr. delagar panics with vomit, let me insert.) "Oh, my god, is that BLOOD? Is she vomiting BLOOD?"
The kid (still puking): "Ek -- am I? -- ek -- am I vomiting blood?"
Me: "No!" (Glaring at mr. delagar.) "It's beenie weenies, jeez."
The kid (wailing): "Make it stop! Mama, make it stop!"
Which it didn't, btw, all night long. She vomited off and on all night long, until 4.30 a.m.
Motherhood. What bliss.