Mom's always here

Picture it:  I'm sleeping..... soundly..... when I hear a knock.  The knock gets louder as my brain engages what it's actually hearing.

The knocking continues.

Finally awake enough to realize it's knocking, I say "Come in!" as Techno-genius yells, "Who is it?"  The fact that it's only 5:20 am dawning on us both simultaneously.

In return the words, "It's Bethany and I can't come in.  I'm outside and the doors are locked."

Head spinning trying to figure out WHY she's outside, how she got outside, and why on earth she locked herself out swirls through my mind.

Noting the pause in her parents' responses, she chimes, "I threw up at Kinley's so I came home."

Oh yeah, it's all coming back to me now.  She wasn't IN the house to begin with.

Stumbling from bed I meander out to the front room and make my way to the back door where I assume she'll go.

Smart girl to knock on mom and dad's window. Scares the kajeebees out of us, but hey, it is effective.

Unlocking the door, I notice Kinley walked home WITH her. OOPS!  Guess I should have grabbed my PJ bottoms instead of just wearing my super long T-shirt.  Good thing the door only has glass on the top half.  It makes a nice shield for my pudgy legs.

Plodding in, Bethany plops her bag on the desk and quickly thumps over to the couch and deposits her little self.

I say goodbye to Kinley and quickly shut the door, following Bethany to her destination.

Since we just went through this, a trash can with bag is right at hand.

She lays on the couch and simply states, "I don't feel good."

That's an understatement.

For the rest of the morning she and I perform a little dance.  She closes her eyes for a bit, then tosses her cookies, I change the bag, repeat.

A short nap right after her arrival makes her brave enough to attempt some Ginger Ale.

For the next couple of hours, our dance escalates.

Every sip she takes results in the need for a new bag in her bucket.

Finally a dose of Emetrol helps settle her tummy long enough for her to rest and get a long nap.

Although quite an alarming way to wake up this morning, I'm so blessed to be able to care for my precious daughter. She knows she can come home to mama. She knows I'll open the door (once I hear her outside) and welcome her in with open arms. She knows I'll change the bag - repeatedly - as she needs it.  She knows I'll try to find a way to help her feel better.  She knows I love her.

I'm glad she knows this and pray she remembers it forever.

Mom's ALWAYS here!  NO. MATTER. WHAT!  {or.... what time!} ;-)