Caution: Don't read if you have a weak stomach...

Anyone who knows me, knows that I hate barf. I actually haven't thrown up myself since 4th grade aka May of 2000.  Yes, if you're keeping track, that's nearing a 20 year streak.

My phobia of barf is so strong that I can't even stand to even watch it happen in movies or on TV. Nope. I'm telling you, I HATE it. The smell, the texture, the sounds, the color, the smell...the SMELL. Everything.

My son got sick the other night. This isn't the first time he's thrown up...but, it's the first time that I CAUGHT IT with my BARE HANDS. Seriously. I reached out my hands and I caught it. Once it was in my hands, I had no idea what do to with I whipped it on a blanket. But, my natural instinct was to CATCH his BARF. Who am I?

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One of my biggest fears when deciding to have a child was knowing that this moment was inevitable. My kid would someday puke and I'd have to clean it up. I never imagined I'd reach out to catch it. I'm telling you, that was my biggest reservation for having a child.

He's only two...and I could tell he was scared and upset...I mean, I would be too if I puked. So, with puke in his hair, all over his body, in my hands and all over the blankets...I gave him a hug...and I didn't puke.

I've changed. Anyone who says parenthood doesn't change a lying. You know those moms who can lift cars to save their kids? Well, that's kind of what happened the other day. It took that amount of strength to get me through that moment.

Some moms are so comfortable with it, they can eat a sandwich while it happens. I'm not at that level, but I've definitely changed. Have you ever caught your child's puke before? That's what unconditional love looks like, man.

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