Eye-Opening

It was bound to happen. Truthfully, I'm surprised it hadn't happened up until now. Last night, Mike and I were awoken around midnight to Colin crying; it wasn't his normal cry. Being drained and feeling sick and incredibly comfortable, I suggested to Mike that wait a second to see if he cries a second time. He did. Mike offered to check on him since I had to get up at 6am for work. Hearing him continuing to cry, I feel around for my glasses. Before I can even walk into his bedroom, Mike is calling for me. I immediately knew something was wrong.

Mike brushing past me into the bathroom and before I can even register seeing them, the smell hits me. The smell of vomit. Colin is covered in it; his jammies, his face, running out of his nose, matted in his hair. Mike is holding a towel trying to catch it. I notice his shirt is covered and stained. After getting Colin 'under control', I walked into his bedroom to scope out the scene. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. His entire bed was covered in vomit and unchewed grape pieces.

Fast-forward past numerous book readings, two more sets of jammies, two (or was it 3?) loads of laundry to a very tired Mommy and Daddy. We are sitting in the living room on a blanket which has vomit on one corner. It has to be after 3am and we've been vomit-free for atleast 30 minutes. Our goal is the-1-hour-free point but we are running low on energy which somehow Colin has a lot of. In a desperate attempt to keep him on the blanket, we popped in a Little Einstein's video and he was captivated. He is bouncing between mine and Mike's lap cuddling in a way every parent desires from an active squirmy almost 1 year old. I'm sitting there fighting to stay awake, trying to block out the smells, pushing back the thoughts of how sleep deprived I had already felt before tonight's whooping 2 hours of sleep, and it hits me. It hit me like a ton of bricks. This is what parenthood is all about and I wouldn't trade it for anything.

One year ago at this time, I was still pregnant. I still didn't know if Colin was Colin or Lily. I had no clue what this little boy would do to my life. I never in a million years would have thought that while a sweet faced boy with tears pouring down his face was throwing up and he turned to face me seeking comfort, that I gladly would have let him throw up all over me just to make him feel the slightest bit better. Last night as I laid in bed for all 1.5 hours of sleep, I laid there like the first night we brought him home. Was he breathing? What if he choked on his vomit? Should I sleep on the floor in his room? My mind wandered as I thought about how much he has changed over the year ... and so have I.