Our day began on a happy note, with Ramona sleeping in. We had some very fun plans to go play with family today, so I was feeling very optimistic about the day. No chores, just fun. But, Ramona spit up her milk all over my bed. Did I think "Hmmm....that certainly was a lot of spit up" or "Woah, that was a bit projectile." Nope. I just started a load of laundry.
Then during a long phone conversation with my sister I begin to suspect that Ramona was having some diaper issues. No joke. She pooped something silly and she needed to have a bath. I would like to note here that at this point in the day I have had to change my clothes twice and now I have some seriously poopy clothes to wash. Load number two.
I know that you all out there are reading this thinking "dear god woman, your child is sick, duh." But I just didn't want to see it. It wasn't until Ramona threw up all over her changing table that I realized, "woah, someone's sick."
So, here I am. Down to my underwear, around me the stinky laundry is piling up, and I am rocking my baby when I realize something profound, "I make her feel better, she is clinging to me like a monkey because I make her feel better. As much as I love my mom, Ramona loves me. And as much as my mom loves me, I love Ramona". Oh friends, I realize this is stuff that moms should already know. But I'm someone who needs to learn things over and over again.
After a lot of holding, some more puking, and more holding, it seems we are out of the woods. Now I begin to attend to my poopy, pukey laundry. But I do so with a renewed sense of honor and joy.