Motherhood: Card Carrying Member

Reasons I did not go to medical school: I cannot be around blood. I cannot be around poop. I cannot be around snot. I cannot be around vomit. But I became a mom?? Hmmm...

Dominic has been a little congested with the weather shifting gears on us constantly, and it took some rough play yesterday to jog it loose, I guess. He and Javi were wrestling and spinning each other around, and a deep laugh pushed it allll out at once. ALLL of it out.  At ONCE.  All I originally knew was that I heard expressions of disgust coming from the next room, and I looked over cautiously to make sure I didn’t see something I couldn’t unseen… I didn’t want to take in whatever happened in 4D and full color, that much I knew. As I caught a glimpse of the lower half of Dominic’s face completely covered in snot, I looked away quickly and ordered him to the bathroom, instructing him not to touch anything on the way.  I looked over at Javi who was a little green. He and I were both just trying to get that image out of our heads, I think, but I wondered how he could have been so close to it without upchucking. It was one of the most disgusting things I’d ever seen. I started to evaluate whether I was entitled to hang onto my official mom card when I couldn’t even help my own kid clean up his face. But, little did I know, that was just the beginning.

Less than a minute later, I was walking into the kitchen when I heard gagging behind me. I turned in time to see Javi, losing his battle with his aversion to Dominic’s excessive display of mucous, projectile vomiting all over the kitchen floor. I reached for some paper towels to hand him and was going to go get the disinfecting wipes and mop when I saw him heaving again a little further over from his original spot. I mean, he obviously didn’t want to step in anything, so, of course, he needed to throw up somewhere clean. There he went again, splattering it further. He went from spot to spot throwing up like a cat does when it makes its way through the house convulsing and jerking forward leaving piles of vomit everywhere for an unsuspecting person to step in later. Meanwhile, I’m frantically ordering him outside even as I’m trying to grab a bucket or bowl or ANYTHING to cover his face with… I mean hold in front of him.  The smell of vomit started permeating the air, and I found myself swallowing hard, dry heaving, trying to focus and find a neutral place in my head. Javi headed towards the door just in time for another round of vomit and sprayed it all over the door. And wall. And window. 

YEP.

I just stood there for a second with my cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk, holding my breath, wondering how this was my life… this kitchen that was clean a minute ago now completely sprayed in vomit… all within 3 minutes of Jose conveniently leaving to go to Home Depot. And now Dominic was back and was now gagging at Javier’s mess. I immediately sent him outside though the garage door since the kitchen door was now a HAZMAT situation and was now looking out the window at both of them leaning over with their faces parallel to the ground, heaving onto the grass, saliva streaming from their mouths and swinging in the air.

I went to the bathroom to compose myself, wash my face, and brace myself for the task ahead. 

As I walked towards the kitchen, I heard licking sounds and found Max acting like he was at brunch at his favorite buffet spot. I didn’t want to, I knew it was disgusting, but I went back to the bathroom and washed my face again, looked for shiny white hairs that I could pull, evaluating whether I still had 2 separate eyebrows, and examining a new set of age spots on my face, chest, and hands. A little while later, I left the bathroom and went to the garage to get the Wetjet mop, loaded it with a clean pad and the disinfecting floor cleaner, and I headed back towards the kitchen as Max was walking out, licking his lips, completely satisfied… but wait, as he passed by the wall that caught some of the vomit spray, he stopped, sniffed, walked over to it and proceeded to clean it up, as well.  I reminded myself to stay far away from his mouth for the rest of the day, gave him a breath treat, and went about mopping the floor and wiping down the door and walls, trying to forget how gross dogs are and what it said about me that I allowed him to clean it up in the first place.

An hour later, with any evidence of what had occurred obliterated, the house smelling of cleaning products, and a pleasant waft of lavender smelling air coming from the kitchen, kids recovered and playing happily in the backyard, my husband walks back in from Home Depot without any clue whatsoever. 

And this, my friends, is motherhood. I’ve decided I shall continue to be a card carrying member. Medical school is still not in my future.

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