by Lisa
Moments ago, as I sat on the floor in the middle of the hallway with the carpet cleaner in hand, I wondered to myself, “what did he eat that, upon regurgitation, would resemble a strawberry daiquiri?” It has been many moons since I held a daiquiri in my hand, but I remember what it looks like, and I am pretty sure fish sticks from the lunchroom wouldn’t manifest itself as a frozen beverage in the afterlife.
Moments ago, as I sat on the floor in the middle of the hallway with the carpet cleaner in hand, I wondered to myself, “what did he eat that, upon regurgitation, would resemble a strawberry daiquiri?” It has been many moons since I held a daiquiri in my hand, but I remember what it looks like, and I am pretty sure fish sticks from the lunchroom wouldn’t manifest itself as a frozen beverage in the afterlife.
After I got my gag reflex under control and removed the larger chunks from the floor so Talullah and Delilah couldn't eat anymore, I sat there in awe. Not at the red puke that trailed from his bedroom all the way down the hall and through the bathroom to the toilet where he still sat. Not that a ten year old couldn’t practice mouth-containment until he was over the bowl. Not that the dogs found it appetizing. Not even at the daunting task that lie ahead of me to erase the evidence from the carpet fibers and disinfect the surrounding area so the other littles were less likely to catch it if it were contagious.
I was in awe of my beautiful life.
How on earth was I sitting on the floor cleaning up puke with a positive attitude? I should be snapchatting it with the "woe is me" emoji as my comment. A few years ago, I would have been frustrated and annoyed that -after a long week- I would have to tackle this mess. I would have asked God “why me?” But tonight I didn’t. Tonight was different. Tonight, I looked at my sweet, sick boy lying on the cool tile floor and I thanked God for trusting me with him. I thanked God for the opportunity to clean up his nasty, smelly puke.
Honestly, I don’t deserve any of the blessings that my Heavenly Father has poured out on me, but He apparently thinks I do. That still, soft voice reminded me of that tonight as I sat there surrounded by vomit. It reminded me that these dirty little tasks are part of the blessing of being a wife and mother. That is what makes me happy- being a wife and mother.
So I will attempt to take on these less than glamorous duties with a heart of gladness from now on. I will thank Him for my kids when I am picking up dirty socks and underwear that lay inches- yes, inches- from the laundry hamper. I will thank Him for my husband when he forgets to put the toilet seat down and I find it that way.…at 2 am…with the lights off. I will pray blessings over their little lives as I step on Leggos and turn off the lights in unoccupied rooms.
Because I don’t deserve any of them, but I get to have them all.
And now, as my stomach churns and I get that feeling in my throat right before I throw up, I thank God for being able to catch a stomach bug from my little ones. And I remember one more thing….it was a fruit roll-up.
