The Famous Emerson Waterfall

As I write this I am still haunted by the thought of it... clothes, never -ending clothes to be cleaned-- furniture doused with Lysol and stain fighter, Febreeze and stain-out sitting in patches of pink-stained carpeting. Yes folks, I am talking about my daughter's first bout of the stomach flu.

Now when it comes to gastrointestinal mysteries, I am a prize champion fighter. My three year old, Ethan, had an entire season when I swore the only thing the kid could get down his gullet was batteries and misplaced coins he found behind our dresser. But ugh, I'd forgotten the sheer horror of the whole ordeal. The not knowing when it will come... as if you're being stalked by a crazy bird of prey just waiting to barf down the front of your shirt.

Of course, as we working moms know, sick days like these are made all the more disturbing by the fact that we still have work to do. The phone doesn't stop ringing - the meetings don't cancel themselves. When I first started my agency 6 years ago, I would trudge through these injustices, trying to do it all. But I like to think I'm older and wiser ( with a much healthier client revenue base) and this time around I think I'm going to cancel the meetings, put an out of office message on my phone, send the E-man out to have fun with his sitter.

My day planner is going to be filled with items like "Clean fifth pukey shirt", "Second round of Febreeze on unfortunate stain on couch" and "drink my baby girl in as I rock her to sleep", because after all, she'll only need mom in this way for so long. And I don't want to miss a moment.