As a mom, I keep a list.
A list of the places my kids have thrown up.
Sacrament meeting (twice), church hallway, the car (blerg, that's the worst!!), BYU basketball game...
After our trip to TN, I've got a new one to add, courtesy of Juno: airplane. Oh, and 'on me' makes it to the list as well.
We were just landing in Denver for our layover. Juno is under two, so I didn't have her in her own seat, which means she had been wiggling on my lap in the middle seat for the last hour. All of a sudden, she was very still; she pulled her pacifier out of her mouth.
"Please don't throw up," I said. The words weren't even out of my mouth when she emptied the entire contents of her stomach all over everything. Her pajamas (yes, my kids travel almost exclusively in their pajamas), Tiny Teddy, my jeans, the seat and the floor. I used every single wipe I had packed in my carry-on cleaning her up. The pajamas were a total loss, so I tossed them and the gross wipes in a plastic bag that the gentleman in front of us gave me. By the time most of the passengers had gotten off, Juno was clean (albeit dressed only in a diaper).
My sister Kelsey had my big girls and they both had to go to the bathroom, and I wanted to give Juno a wet-paper-towel bath in the bathroom before our other flight.
Which was boarding.
Before we even got off the plane.
I may have broken down in the bathroom, completely overwhelmed and exhausted.
I may have even wept for 15 minutes on the plane.
Yes. I did.
Now that it's been almost 2 weeks, it's kind of funny...