You know you love your kid when you hold their puke in your hand. Yes, moms and dads, I've done it. The unimaginable. The unthinkable. I held Cora's puke in my hand. No, not for fun. Cora was getting sick and I put my hand out for her to puke in it. If that's not love, I don't know what is.
Or, maybe it's crazy. It's crazy because I didn't even think twice about it. It's crazy because I'd do it again. My purpose in life is to care for this little being now. She comes before everything else. My purpose is to comfort her. To love her. To care for her. And if that means holding her puke in my hand, then I'd do it again.
If you're a Mom or a Dad then you know what I'm talking about. When you have a kid, suddenly your entire world shifts. Suddenly, not much else matters. You're consumed with this tiny little creature and, at times, it can be pretty damn overwhelming. Now, I don't want to get all mushy on you, because in reality, holding Cora's puke didn't do much else except ignite my own gag reflex. But, as much as I gagged, and as gross as it kinda was, I'd do it again.
I'll always take her temperature, I'll always cuddle her, I'll hug her and kiss her and hold her and snuggle her. I'll exhibit as much patience as possible while she screams because she's feeling like crap, but she can't just tell me. I'll hold her until she falls asleep and place her gently in her cribby. And, I'll let her come into my bed if she fusses. Because I'm a Mom and I love her. And that's what parents do. We hold puke, we measure tylenol, we wipe poop, we examine poop, we pick boogers and use our spit to wipe our kids' faces. That's love, because, really, if you can open a diaper and look for "seeds" or digested fruit, it's either love or insanity. Or maybe, it's a little bit of both.
