Umm...Wasn't prepared for that. Also known as: Not for the Weak Stomached.

So you know all the things new mom's go through.

 

This is one of them that NO ONE has told me about.

 

Monday, hubby and I decided to sleep in a little even though we both had to go to work. So we gave ourselves about twenty minutes to get up get dressed and out the door. Not a smart idea but those few precious minutes of sleep seemed worth it.

 

I got up got dressed quickly, and decided since hubby wasn't done, I'd go grab Kinzey and throw some clothes on her before we headed out the door. (She gets breakfast at her daycare, so no worries there :D)

 

Only to find her room smelled of, well. vomit. Not only did she also smell of it, it was matted through her hair.

 

Seriously? How am I supposed to plan on that? Cause it's not like it wasn't noticeable. It was pink and pasty consistency.

 

Of course the first thing she asks is to go potty. SO I pick her up, hold her about arms distance away to try and keep the stuff off of me and my work clothes and sat her on the potty.

 

I start running bath water, because, well it has to come out.

 

Hubby, trying to help, starts PULLING CHUNKS OF VOMIT OUT OF HER HAIR.

 

Eww, gross, blech.

 

Oh did I mention, he has a weak stomach?

 

He braved through, only dry heaving a few times, and I tossed her in the tub. Scrub scrub, remember I'm on  a time-crunch here? Pull her out, throw those clothes on her. Start drying her hair, it was chilly, grr.

 

Start noticing some of her hair seems...well, thick. Eww. Did I just write thick? And not in the voluptuous flowing hair type thick. The still has some remnants left in it thick.

 

Oh gross.

 

Take my fine-tooth comb, brush through the "thickness', and yeah come away with a film of, we'll just say stuff. Finish drying, RUN out the door. Remember bags, phone, KEYS. Oh don't forget to put away our couch-eating dogs.

 

So end of story? No more sleeping in when we have to be at work. Vomit happens. Sometimes they sleep in it.

 

Oh, and as to how she was doing? She was fine, not sick, no fever, nothing. Just kept telling me she was "Gross!"

 

Yes, dear, you were.