How Taking Care of a Sick Kid is Like Taking Care of a Drunk Person

Poor Jill woke up with some crazy stomach bug this morning. She took one look at me and said, "My tummy does not feel good" then ran for the bathroom. I'm hoping her looking at me had nothing to do with it.

Within an hour the poor girl was running to the bathroom every few minutes and there I was like the good mommy I am, holding her hair back, putting a wet cloth on her neck and telling her it would be okay. Poor girly was a mess.

At one point she couldn't tell which direction she was going to be sick from and had her pants around her ankles, that dazed look in her eyes and then threw up. It was just like college, except this time I was sober while it was happening, so it was not nearly as funny.

I was a bartender in college, so I saw my fair share of drunk people. I saw the loud drunks, the emotional drunks, the a-hole drunks, the sad drunks (not emotionally sad, just sad) and everyone in between. I served as a counselor, joke teller, and the bitch that just cut you off because you've had one too many. I feel like this was the perfect job to prepare me for motherhood.

As poor Jilly stumbled back to the couch all disheveled and not with it, I filled up her cup with some Pedialyte, toweled her off and put on her favorite cartoons. We did this from 5:30 a.m. - 10:30 a.m.  It was a long morning.

She has seemed to bounce back this afternoon and it's like nothing ever happened. To keep with the drunk person theme, she also mentioned that she never wanted to be sick again. Me too pumpkin, me too.