Fankful Friday (it's a stretch, I know)

Yesterday, amidst my half coherent existence, I struggled to find the things I was grateful for. I was very grateful that Buster was the only one of my children tossin cookies. But today I am so very very ver very thankful that Bug managed to puke all over the garage floor. We had just barely gotten out of the car and were seconds away from the interior of my home. All I have to say is hallelujah. Hosed it right off, and now I can move on with my day, until Bird comes home from school and we find another creative puke place (because I am sure she is next in line).

I don't think that many people enjoy dealing with vomit. But I am not quite sure if anyone is terrified of it as much as I am. I would rather die. I have a very huge, enormous phobia of vomiting. I actually looked it up and there is a name for it, Emetophobia. But I can't even bring myself to clean it up after my kids, I can't stand to hear it, or be anywhere near it, or even be the one to throw-up. Seriously, how do you think I made it through 3 pregnancies without one puke? Will power baby. My fear worsened when I was in labor with Buster. I was trying to be a hero and go au naturale. I was in so much pain and had just been given some meds to take the "edge" off {bull crap, the meds did NOTHING} then, my idiot nurse, gives me an emesis basin. After which, I begin hyperventilating and say "why did you give this me? Boo hoo, cry cry, waaaaaa." She said that as the pain worsens most people will throw-up. My mom then gets really mad at her and said "How dare you scare her like this? I had 3 kids with no epidural and I NEVER ONCE threw-up." Long story short, I didn't lose it until and hour after he was born. I am sure that you all wanted to read about these exciting tales of praying to the porcelain god, so you're welcome.

These were happier times...yesterday
(and yes, that is a lampshade on her head)