When puke patrol equals love.

Yesterday, Caleb told me he felt sick at least 2-3 times. He says this on a daily basis, partially because he is the son of Spencer. Which means that it is only natural for him to feign illness to get out of doing something he doesn't want to do. Caleb has started this craft young, but Spencer did it all the time when he was a child. Every day, Caleb tells me he can't sleep because he is sick. Every day, I tell him that he needs to go to sleep to help his (imagined) sickness.

Yesterday we were on a late night walk. It had been so long since we have done this due to me being sick, and it being colder. It was good for me and nice to get out. However, twice Caleb complained about his back hurting. I recognized that this was unusual, and checked it out. There seemed to be no reason why his back would be hurting. Then he said, "My back hurts, that's why I need to get out and run." This made me think he was using it as an excuse to be unleashed from the stroller. Well, I let him get out, but he didn't run. In fact, he wanted to be carried right when he started walking. I didn't allow this, and he had to walk the short way back home we had left. I realize now that all of this was because he actually didn't feel good. And he thought his back hurt because it was really his stomach.

By 2:30 am, Caleb was at my bedside. In my drowsiness, I heard him say that he felt sick as he climbed up into my bed. I tried moving a pillow for him and giving him room, but then he started upchucking. I got up to help him and was able to contain it to a decent parameter. He felt better right away, and after some clean up, was able to get back into his bed in his room.

I set forth in my task of cleaning up the disaster that was my bed. It smelled pretty terrible, and it looked pretty terrible too. I hauled trash bags away and started a few loads of laundry. I was up past 3:45 am dealing with this, when I fell asleep and failed to get up again to switch my laundry until 6 am.

I woke up to again, head over into the cold to deal with my bedding in the laundry. I glanced at my phone to see a status message from a friend of mine on Facebook. She was replying to my status about being up and doing all this at 2:30 am, and she said, "That is called LOVE." Somehow reading this was a reminder of how it really is all called love. When a parent is up late at night with their puking child, and stays up to clean up the nasty, gross mess. When a mom is her child's main advocate with their school or other people in their life. When a mom has to put aside what she wants to do in her life for the greater good of the child. When a mom has to sacrifice always, always. It's all for love.

It kind of struck me then, because I was exhausted. And probably cranky. And just sleep deprived. And cold from having the window open so my room smelled less like puke. It sucked. But what mattered was my boy. What mattered was that he was okay. What mattered was that he was taken care of. What mattered was that he knew my love. I have written about fear before. In that entry, I mentioned that I have struggled with Emetophobia in my life, which is an irrational fear of throwing up. I do a lot better now, but you know what? I didn't even think about it last night at all. As I said, I do a lot better now, but throwing up is one of my least favorite illness to deal with. Before I had Caleb, I was worried about how I might handle it as a mother with Emetophobia. How could I?!

I am grateful to God to say now, that it's fine. We handle it. And I don't like it, at all. But I guess love overcomes. Because I have overcome, mostly. And it is because of love. Earlier I wrote about love of people, and right now I mean the love between a parent and a child. To overcome fears and to care for this child in need. I am thankful to my friend for that reminder this morning. It is called love. And that, is something very good and very special.

This morning Caleb told me that his foot hurt a few times. Then he told me his shoe had sand in it that was running around really fast. I realized that he was describing that his food had fallen asleep.  He hadn't experienced that sensation before, and he didn't like it.
It really does feel like sand in your foot, doesn't it? I like that. :)
Even Superman has to crash from time to time.