Puke

Puke.

Most would whither at this word. Sour, foul, pungent. No good can come from it.

Tonight Dot puked 3 times. The first was right after her bath. New jammies, Aveeno scent & then, a wrench & ... barf. Sour, foul, pungent. But the avocado chunks on the floor & yogurt curds on my new cardigan didn't bother me so much. The smell didn't even wring my stomach. What's up with that?

Then it dawned on me.

Puke & I have a love/hate relationship. It's no secret that I struggled with a pretty nasty eating disorder for almost 5 years through high school & some of college. {Anorexia & bulimia. I'm a bit type A so I guess I had to try to perfect both. Luckily, I didn't succeed because perfection would mean dead.} Being a dancer had its pressures & I succumbed. Why? To be skinny. Da.

But rapid weight loss came with a price. The body cannot survive on mere raisins & pretzels. Seriously. Although, I'm sarcastic about my pitiful experience, this low point was a pivotal milestone for my growth. Purging my body rid of minerals & nutrients for the sake of seeing my ribs was a delusional trap - a trick to keep me distracted. Dang you Lucifer. Point for you. Well played.

So tonight as my sweet baby projected puke down the front of my chest & as it ran down my arm, I had to laugh to myself. I'm immune. All those years of torturing my God given body, have made me immune to puke. All those self-deprecating sessions of "That had fat in it," or "I think that rice had butter on it," brought me to this place...

I'm Super Puke Mom.

If any of you are wondering how I kicked this serious problem, for me the answer is simple.

{Husband.} sigh

My lovely parents tried for years to help me battle this internal struggle. Doctors, medications, nutritionists... the works. But, nothing. It wasn't until I met a dashing, wonderful man that simply told me, "I can't marry you & have children with you if you are going to be doing that to your body."

Whoa. Hold the phone. I'm doing this to my unborn kids? It's not all about me? That couldn't have hit me any harder then if the Red Sea had parted right before my very eyes.

So why am I writing about puke? {I know you're wondering.} That's gross. Well yes, yes it is. And that's my point. It is gross, but I did it & it was a big mistake. The great thing is that I learned from it {point for Heather} & to be honest, I've never looked back. That part of my brain that was sick & polluted healed that night. To me, it was my miracle.

I love when we overcome our given challenges & can look back on those trials with gladness rather than resentment & shame. Isn't that what it's all about?

So yes, when Dot puked on me tonight I smiled. I held my smelly baby close & I thanked God for His hand in my life & His infinite wisdom. It was a full circle moment & I can't believe I'm typing this... but...

I am grateful for puke.