There are very few things I hate more in this world than stomach viruses. However, there IS one thing that can top the misery of a plain stomach virus and that is one while you’re on vacation.

Our last night at the beach, Edie woke me up around 2:00 a.m. crying in her bed. I immediately knew what had happened from the smell that filled our room. I said a quick “thank you” to God that we weren’t sharing a bed, and then went running to the bathroom for towels.

I’m always surprised how well I handle her throwing up, and if I can name only one example of my “motherly” instincts kicking in, it is in these circumstances. In the moment, you know it’s totally gross and by all logic you should be gagging right along with your kid, but that all gets forgotten because your top concern is consoling the child who doesn’t understand what is happening-or in this case, keeps happening.

The rest of the night was spent waking every half hour or so for her to puke into another towel, console her, and put her back to bed. It was a very long night for all of us, including my mother, but man, was I glad she was there. Her “motherly” instincts were kicking in too by washing towels and linens, leaving me free to cuddle the patient.

The drive home was pretty miserable having had no sleep and Edie still not finished puking up everything but her toenails, but we were women without a country, or in this case, a condo, so there was nothing left to do but get in the car and drive home.

It took her about forty-eight hours to fully recover, which really was perfect timing because that was when she decided to pass the baton on to me. I have yet to really shake it completely.

This past week has been the pits, or as Edie likes to call it, the “arm pits”. She actually thinks that’s what this horrible virus is called. I, however, have another name for it, and it’s not near as cute.