This has been a rough day. I mean, super rough. Without sharing too much information, we had to say no to a potential adoptive placement today. It was a girl we had previously been interested in and then she was going to get placed with another family. So we were scott free. Until we got word her placement fell through and they wondered if we were still interested in her. Dang. We decided we just couldn’t commit right now. I mean, we do have two babies after all.
So, truthfully, I’ve been pretty much sulking all day. I feel terrible, have had a horribly unproductive day at work, and just really have just wanted to feel sorry for myself all day. Did I mention we also had dinner plans this evening with friends? Boy did I want to cancel that. But, we decided to go ahead and just keep the plans. Here’s where the story gets
I left work early, came home and got Jeff, and we rode together to pick up the boys from daycare and the babysitter. We went to daycare and picked up Big Dude first. Then went to my sweet friend, Rachael’s house to pick up Little Man. Everything was great. The boys were happy, we were on our way to Central Market to eat and fellowship. Then, all of a sudden, get ready for it, vomit. I hear Big Dude cough, look back, and he’s vomitted. And then more vomit. And more vomit. Then projectile vomit. Dude made it all the way to the front seat with it. Oh. My. Gosh. So, we have to pull over obviously. We happen to park close to a Dollar Tree and I run in to buy towels to clean up as much as possible so we can make it home from Round Rock. Of course while I was checking out a bought a KitKat. Why not?
Ok, so Jeff was awesome and held the vomit covered toddler while I was in the store and then cleaned up as much as he could while I tried not to vomit from the smell and stood outside of the car eating my KitKat. It was tasty. Well, we put the kicking and screaming toddler back in his vomit-covered carseat (who can blame him for kicking and screaming?) and head toward the house. Then Little Man begins to scream. He’s hungry. I had given him a bottle, but he’s super lazy and just couldn’t manage to hold it up by himself. I’m sitting in the front seat, still trying not to puke from the puke smell filling our car. And then it happened. I reached a whole new level of mommyness. I crawled into the vomitty backseat so I could hold Little Man’s bottle so he would stop screaming. Apparently, vommityness is not quite as bad as screaming babyness. What? As I’m sitting back there, where the smell is obviously ten times worse, Jeff says, “I’ve seen such a change in you. You are actually sitting in vomit to comfort your kids.” My response: “please tweet that.” I’m always thinking of the important things.
So there you have it. Two forms of sanctification today. One through hard, adoption stuff. Another through vomit. Who says the Lord is not creative?