I am still queasy as I type this…
I heard coughing and crying upstairs…. Never a good combination. I ran slid across the kitchen floor in my socks and headed up the stairs to find Shea in her 2 nightgowns leaning over the toilet vomiting. Ugh. I go into the bathroom pull her hair out of her face so she can vomit without a hair screen in front of her mouth. I began to rub her back with my other hand and softly started talking to her. (I really feel the need to qualify here, THIS is NOT my A game, I am not good at the stinky things whether it’s from the top or the bottom. More often than not I do the maintenance in this situation because it doesn’t phase Shad as much.)
I had all I could do to stay the course and continue to talk and console Shea. I watched one heave after the other as I tried to recall which meal was looking back at me. I even thought to myself, woke, I am okay doing this BUT that was a premature thought because just seconds later I heard a sobbing little sniffling voice say ” I want Daddy.” Really? In a way only Seth Meyer would say? Fine! I dropped her hair back in her face, stormed out and told Shad to deal with it…. NO I didn’t but I have to admit my feelings were a little hurt that I was so diss’d and I thought I was rallying like a champ.
Sooooo….after I retrieved fresh clothes, blankets, animals, etc I went in and hung with Shea. I sang Baby Beluga as she donated her diarrhea to the porcelain bowl and fell asleep on my shoulder. She is resting now on the cold tile floor….