I know this isn't a Mommy Blog

A few hours ago, I sent the following to my pal, Nora, who suggested that I save it for 10 years because at that point I should be far enough removed to find it funny. Milo has always had eating issues and I have developed amazing skillz when it comes to catching barf. I didn't know my skills went this deep.

Milo, if you're reading this, know that this made the list of Grossest Things That Have Happened To Me. I expect some day that all things on that list will involve you in some way.

Hey Nora

Milo is full on in the tantrum phase. We thought we had more time before that happened, but nope. It’s like the clock changes to 5:30 pm and horns come out of his head and he’s inconsolable. Also, he took a tumble on Monday AND on Tuesday at daycare, and he has a huge bruise on one cheek (face meets concrete stairs) and one across the bridge of his nose and under his eye (face meets ground, also First Bloody Nose!)

Aaaanyhow, he had one hellofa tantrum Monday in the basement because I wouldn’t let him run with scissors or some such and he screamed for 30 minutes and the whole time was drooling and his nose was running and it was pretty maddening because there was nothing I could do about it. So, right about 6, he gets going again, and I pick him up and say he needs to stop because when he stops we’ll go have dinner. And he starts to gag on all the nose nasty he’s been swallowing while screaming. And we’re in the basement, so I rush over to the laundry room (concrete floor with drain) and I’m almost there and he BARFS DOWN MY SHIRT. Only there’s a little barf on the outside of my shirt and I feel like that’s it because there’s no barf on my boobs or my bra and then he barfs again all over the carpet and the cuffs of my pants and I stand up and realize that the inside of my shirt caught a cupful of barf and I didn’t know it until I stood and smooshed it against my stomach. And he’s still screaming and there’s barf on the floor and OH MY GOD how do you get a shirt off that is full of beef vegetable gerbers that he ate 3 hours ago. So I put him down and yelled at him but good, which by the way doesn’t get him to stop crying and I get my shirt off and I try to get the barf off the floor (so the cat’s don’t...ew....) and I’m scrubbing the floor in my bra and pants (which are barf-free, amazingly, except for the cuffs) and I’m grossed out and he’s screaming and John’s not home and I still don’t have my dress for the wedding next weekend and I’m probably not going to get tenure and I think, “I feel like Nora would understand how frustrated I feel right now.”

I also had a glass of wine with dinner later, because I felt like I deserved that, at least.

Stephanie