In life there are two kinds of people, pukers and non-pukers. (Yep, that’s it. Only two kinds of people. Don’t argue with me about it.)
I’m sure you can tell where this post is going, so if vomit bothers you, stop reading now. You have been warned.
I am a non-puker. I get nauseas but I rarely throw up. I was nauseas for the first 14 weeks of my pregnancy with Ella 24/7. I hoped and hoped I would throw up so I would feel better, but I didn’t.
Samantha is a puker. She began her puking at just a few weeks old when she would projectile vomit after eating too much all over our furniture. It was a spectacular display. Really quite impressive. Our couch will never be the same.
She has continued to be a puker. When she gets a virus, you can be pretty sure she’s going to hurl. When she gets a cold with a nagging cough, she’ll vomit. When she gets really upset and cries a lot, puke. Temper tantrum, puke. This week we learned that a really good case of the hiccups can also cause spewage. (I blame her father for getting her too riled up.)
I’ve gotten really good at doing puke covered laundry. I even learned when puking happens in the middle of the night and you don’t want to go out to the garage that is not attached to the house because it’s cold. Do not just throw the sheets out onto the patio without first rinsing them. Having sheets, a bedspread, and the precious green blanket all frozen together by puke in the morning is not worth it. Lesson learned.