Danny, the sweetest three-year-old ever, promising to take care of me after I had thrown up. (This was when it was still a novelty.)
Danny was cute yesterday.
I sneezed.
And he immediately said "Mommy! Throw up in the toilet!" He rushed into the bathroom, lifted the seat for me, and informed me that it was all ready! (It says Something about how often I've been vomiting, don't you think?)
Danny was my coach. I made an involuntary gagging noise. He sprinted to safety several feet away. (Afraid I'd vomit on his feet.) Later, while I was playing with him in the playroom, I started to feel queasy. I got up and started sprinting.
"Not on the green carpet, Mommy!" he coached when I made a gagging sound in the hall.
I made it into the bathroom and gagged into the sink. He frowned disapprovingly. A few more steps and I finished my gagging at the toilet. "Mommy, that was a good option!" he said, proudly.
Later I vomited into my barf bucket. "Mommy, the shoebox is also a good option!" he approved, seriously.
He was rating my various receptacles all day. It's like having a personal trainer!
...What makes this ironic is that I had delivered a very Preachy Lecture to Danny. "Mommy is about to get a shot. Mommy is not going to cry or wail or scream or flail. NO, Mommy is going to be a Big Girl. Mommy will be Brave. If I do a good job, I will earn a cookie!"
And then...I turned white, almost passed out, whimpered, vomited, had to be escorted to a different room, lay down, had blood drawn with three nurses hovering, and women rushing about saying, "It's okay Danny! Your Mommy is okay!!!!"
And I was thinking, wryly, "Well, I haven't screamed or cried or thrashed...but I still don't think he's going to find this reassuring!"
[Arguing over the last smores pop-tart]
Mommy: I need to eat something right now, or else I will throw up!
[Danny, now jaded, looks stubbornly unconvinced]
Mommy: Danny, the baby is hungry. [Points to pregnant tummy]
Danny: But, Mommy, babies can't eat chocolate!
Danny: I want to do that puzzle.
Bear: No you don't! You want to that other puzzle!
Danny: Bear, no. I want to do this puzzle right here!
Bear: No you don't! You want to do that puzzle over there!
Mommy: Bear, Danny gets to decide what he does or doesn't want.
Danny: No, Mommy!
Bear: Mommy, go away!!
Mommy: Uh, okay. I'll just let you two work it out for yourselves!
[I felt bad for being an over-protective Mama. I just worried that Danny would bow to pressure and let himself be bullied!--Gail]
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