Official Mommy Card Earned

I think I just earned my official mommy card.  This week has been "trying" if that's the right word.  Here's a list of things I think you have to experience to earn the title of "mom" or "dad"

1. Several sleepless nights in a row
2. A fussy/inconsolable child for several hours
3. Being thrown up on at close range.
4. Changing you and baby and getting thrown up on again
5. The most massive overflowing poopy diaper
6. Cleaning the clothes/blankets/sheets/people from said poopy diaper.
7. Being pee'd on
8.

Ok, I have to stop right here for a laughing break! This post was inspired by the massive blow out diaper we (I) just cleaned up.  Seriously. How does someone so small and sweet produce so much poo? I'm better at dealing with the grossness than Mike, so I handled the mess once I heard the gagging and exclamations of Mike from the other room.  I cleaned up Sarah first and handed her off to Mike.  Then, I started on the clothes, blankets, and sheets.  No sooner had I got those into the wash and sat down to write this post, than Sarah projectile vomits all over herself, Mike, and the sofa.  Again, I clean the sofa, take Sarah and clean her up while Mike cleans himself.  I sit down with her to soothe her and am patting her back when round 2 of the vomit strikes.  This time it didn't really get on her, just me, so I handed her off to clean myself.... And yes, at that point I just started laughing. Why? Because, this is it.  This is life with a baby! And I wouldn't change a thing.  Sure, it's gross and downright discusting at times.  But when my 5 week old looks at me dead in the eye and smiles with her whole face, it's all the reward I need.

So I'm sure we're headed into another sleepless night because Sarah likes to have a fussy party between 12:30-6:00am. But when she (finally) exhausts herself and falls asleep in my arms to my off pitched wrong lyric lullaby and squeezes my fingers so tight willing me not put her down, it makes my heart grow.  I love her, and she's worth it.  So friends and family, it's not that we don't want to see you, it's that we're passed out in the last grungy t shirt we own praying that the noises we hear from Sarah are just dreams and not her waking up.  And also praying that one of us remembered to clean and sanatize her bottles and pre-measure her formula for the next round when she wakes up.  Yup, it's time for me to get back to the fussy lady as Mike is standing over me singing that he's out of idea's (we take turns trying to do whatever we can think of... what can I say? Team work!)