Random Tuesday Thoughts: The Randomest of All

It's Tuesday and I am joining in the fun with Keely and the gang (not to be confused with Kool and The Gang) and doing a Random Tuesday Thoughts post this week! I know, it's exciting. Try to contain your excitement and head over there and get the button yourself to write some random junk. Cause, well, it's fun. And fun is fun. And who doesn't like fun?

Speaking of fun, over the weekend, I went to the Muse/Silver Sun Pickups concert at TD Banknorth Garden with two of my awesomest friends from college. Now this was fun, but would have been a lot MORE fun if I didn't have the beginnings of a stomach bug. Have you ever ridden the subway and walked around the city, then sat in a loud stadium and danced and screamed your little heart out, all the while feeling like your stomach was going to come rushing out of your mouth and experiencing a serious case of the cold sweats? No? Consider yourself lucky. It's not an experience I recommend to anyone. However, seeing Muse live I HIGHLY recommend because it was INCREDIBLE. The stage was amazing; they played in the round with three illuminated pillars that came up out of the stage that they played on for some of the songs and that played video of various eyegasms, from a man swimming in water that slowly rose and filled the pillar, to clips of the actual audience, to men going up and down stairs and falling like dominoes. It was just so freaking cool. Then there were the lasers. Then there were the GIANT beach balls that looked like eyeballs that fell from the ceiling that were filled with confetti. Oh yeah, then there was the MUSIC. Which, of course, in true Muse style was epic and even better live than recorded. I can't wait to see them again when I don't feel like I am going to barf all over the people in front of me.

The good news is that I made it home without throwing up on anyone in the stadium or on the train, but then spent the rest of the night on all fours with my head over the toilet bowl. I even slept on the bathroom floor for about an hour or so. I am actually pretty proud of myself. After 30 years, I finally no longer cry or ask for my mommy when I vomit. I dealt with my illness in silence (well, as silent as you can be when you are puking your guts out) and crawled onto the couch at 7:30 in the morning, where my husband and daughter found me sleeping when they woke up. Luckily, my awesome husband let me go to bed for the day and took care of the little one and I slept until 3:00 in the afternoon. But, unlike the kids, who were up and running around 12 hours after the onset of their symptoms of the stomach bug, it took me a full 48 hours to get back to feeling normal again. Am I getting old? Wait, don't answer that...

I forgot to tell you guys something, I am writing for another blog. Don't worry, I will never love writing for it as much as I love writing for this one. It doesn't mean the same thing as The Wise Young Mommy does. This will always be my first blog love. But my friend started a Pop Culture blog and asked me to start creating some content for it because he intends to monetize it soon, so it could mean some money for me in the near future and I couldn't pass it up. I am now writing over at PopCultureFan.com, doing weekly American Idol recaps and various other pieces on television, movies and general pop culture news. So head over if you're sick of reading CNN and want some really hard-hitting journalism. Heh.

Yeah, I'm a sellout. All the way.

Also, I might be writing about the Boston Red Sox for a sports blog soon. Don't laugh. I KNOW my baseball. And also, I have boobs, and they want a woman's perspective. Surprisingly enough, I have more to offer than how they look in their uniforms, so you may actually see me as the next token chick sports writer on this cool sports blog that I can't tell you the name of yet. Stay tuned.

So that's all the randomness I have today. Remember to go read all the other fabulous random posts linked up over at The Un-Mom and link up your own random post if you got one!

Peace out!

I Love You, Therefore I Hold The Bowl

This weekend was the weekend I got to hold the bowl. Yes, the puke bowl. Not only that, but I got to hold back the hair, and rub the back, get the water, and say "it's OK, you're going to be OK." Because that's what us moms do.

Even us moms that HATE puke. And I mean, hate. With a capital "H." Like, would avoid puking or being in the vicinity of puke at all costs and is almost verging on PHOBIC about puke. But, when you become a mother, there is this clause at the bottom of the paperwork that you have to sign in the delivery room that says "You, the undersigned, realize fully and of sound body and mind that there is a shitload of poop, urine and vomit in your future and you will have it on your person, will have to dispose of it, clean it up and watch it coming out of various orifices on your child/ren and must not, under any circumstances, run screaming out of the room, cry or break down emotionally when confronted with said bodily fluids." And even though you are still all drugged up and exhausted from pushing a baby out of your vagina, you sign it and you are trapped. Trapped into the job of the "Bowl Holder."

But, the thing that you don't realize, is that when it is your kid, it's different. Yes, puke is still disgusting. It smells bad, it looks gross and you definitely don't want it on you or near you. But when it does get on you, you don't gag and think you might actually drop dead from absolute disgust. You are more concerned about the fact that YOUR BABY just THREW UP. And OH MY GOD, what is wrong with them??? And instead of running from the room when your child starts gagging and you can see the vomit starting to come out of their mouth, you run TO them and push the bowl under their mouth, pull their hair back (because God forbid they get puke in their beautiful hair) and rub their backs. Because that's your baby. And you feel bad. You feel really bad.

It still sucks. Don't get me wrong. My stomach does flips and my heart races and I sweat like a fat guy running a 5K. But most of the distress I am feeling is just because I am worried about my child. I can't stand to see my children sick or hurt, and I would take it from them in a heartbeat. And after about the fifth time, sometimes I have to hold back the tears because I feel like I just can't take one more puke session. But I get through it. I always do. Because I love my kids.

Puke and all.