Anyone who really knows me is acutely aware that I am the biggest vomit phobe on the planet, so extremely phobic that most of my life I wouldn't have even considered getting pregnant due to the remote possibility that it might be accompanied by morning sickness. Crazy, yes, I know. I never said that I don't have issues. There is a certain critical parental role that has played over and over in my head, like a lost Brady Bunch re-run, because the time would eventually come, leaving me to wonder if I was going to be able to pull through during my child's moment of need. Would I be able to see beyond the barf and actually be a supportive, nurturing parent or would I flee the scene praying that everything would turn out o.k?

They always say, "Don't worry....it's different when it's your kid." I never believed them, thinking of how I would explain my lack of compassion when Senia Mae was old enough to confront me about it, for in the back of my mind I really did not know if I would pass that unbelievable test of strength. Well today was the day. We were driving around a curvy road and the car slowly began to smell of gastric juices. Thinking nothing of it I kept driving until I heard these strange gurgling sounds followed by the most pitiful, scared cries I have ever heard. I immediately KNEW what was going on. I had imagined that my reaction in this situation would be complete panic followed by meltdown (me, not the kid)in which during time the child would get lost somewhere on the side of the road. I know, awful parenting.

Well that is NOT what happened!!!! I pulled the car over, got her out of her seat, changed her clothes, wiped her down while soothing her and everything was FINE. I made it, she made it. Yes, we were a little smelly, but I am a good parent!!! All of that worrying for nothing. When it's your own child your protective instinct kicks in and you don't even realize that you are delving in a pile of warm, juicy vomit! Like I said, I never claimed to NOT have issues