Ick

Well, it happened. Lana puked. All over the sofa and a little on me. Most everyone who knows me knows that I am a raging puke-a-phobe. Seeing someone barf makes me want to run--fast. I was not the friend who would hold your hair after a long night of drinking. You puke in my car--we are no longer pals. If you are a boyfriend and you puke in my presence, don't expect a kiss any time soon. I don't do it often. I had a puke-free streak of 20 years, but then I got a bug when we visited Taiwan in 2005. It must have been some crazy Asian flu b/c I can fight off puking like nobody's business. Even through my very green pregnancy, I dry heaved almost every day, but I talked myself out of giving it up, which is so silly b/c it probably would have made me feel better.

One of my big fears and misconceptions about having a baby is that the kid would be puking constantly. Lucky for me, Lana is not a barfer--like me! Before this current incident, there was only one other time during a nasty case of gastroenteritits last winter. Well, I have to say I survived the throw up today. It was yucky, but I made it. And I still gave her kisses afterward. So I suppose that progress has been made, although I couldn't help but think that I was next b/c we share every single illness that either of us gets. But so far, so good.