I have returned...

Yes, I am back. For those of you (probably all of you) that were happier with the writing style of my wife, let me just say that I am sorry to disappoint. But this IS my blog. My wife mentioned that she did not want to have a blog of her own. She felt like she was correcting everything to try and make it "perfect." She has read my blog before, so I have no idea what she was worried about. Anyway, I was glad she wrote about the trip to Kansas City. I am still kicking myself that I did not go, yes I really am.

Now on to my thought for tonight. I have been thinking about this for a few days now. I have had many memorable days in my life thus far: the day I married my wife, the birth of my daughter, the day I was baptized, graduation from college, to name a few. But recently I experienced an event that few have the pleasure of experiencing, and even fewer who take note of the memorableness of the occasion. Last week, Abbie was sick with a stomach virus and twice I happened to be holding her when she vomitted. I am not talking about little baby spit up that you wipe away with a burp rag. This was empty-the-stomach full bore chunky clam chowder vomit. You know, there is nothing like the smell of stomach acid. I did not get hit by the full blast, but a glancing blow was enough. The thing that makes it a memorable moment is not that my daughter threw up on me (that makes it a humorous story). The thing that makes it memorable is how bad I felt for my daughter as she was as sick as I have seen her in her young life. I was unable to do anything for her except hold her over the sink as she finished up and then try to console her as best I could. Nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea are very hard on the little ones, and unfortunately often just have to run their course. She is back to normal now, I am happy to say. But, I will not forget that vomit, believe me.