Sometimes We Just Need Our Mommies

It seems as if 2012 has been the Year of the Sick, at least for Charlie and I. We’re getting hit back to back, much to my husband’s chagrin (I’m a huge, whiney baby when I’m not feeling well).

This week has been the toughest for me. I won’t go into details, but some kind of buggy found its way into my stomach and is having fun expelling everything else. A fun fact about me is that I have a strong vasovagal response. Extreme stomach pain causes me to faint, which is not so helpful when the most common thing under me during these times is the hard, bathroom tile floor.

Usually Charles is there to catch and revive me. On Wednesday morning, however, the timing wasn’t great. He either had to watch Charlie or drive him to school, two scenarios that left me without someone to (literally) lean on.

“Call my mom,” I panted, in a moment of desperation.

“But, she has to work…She may not be able to just take off and come up here.”

“Yes, she will.”

Sure enough, an hour later, my mama rang the doorbell. She stayed by my side all day. She drove me to the doctor (and went with me into the exam room), bought me special groceries the doctor recommended, took me home, and made me lunch, which included a turkey sandwich that she cut into four small, adorable pieces.

Then we laid together on the couch, watched “The View” and “Smash,” and both took a nap.

As an adult woman, I don’t need my mother very often in this way, but it felt amazing to be taken care of. And it reminded me that however old we may be, sometimes we just need our mommies.

Love you, mama.