...and this year's Mom of the Year Award goes to...

NOT my mom. My friend Henry just announced his mom wasn't getting the award either so maybe Mom and his mom can relate. Listen, I'm not trying to be rude but let me just ask you this -- you ever been left to sleep in your own vomit before?? Yes, you heard me correctly..I had to sleep in my own vomit. Let me backup here and give you some background --

Well, you know how it was my New Years Revolution to beat dad in the "I'm so sick pity party" right? Okay, so I got that flu bacteria that added an ear infection and forced me on medicine that would give me the runs. A) That was awesome. BUT, I didn't think it was QUITE enough to out-do dad. SO, two Sunday nights ago I stepped it up a notch. I've been in bed - "asleep" - and I devise my plan. PUKE. It's easy. So, I get myself to start thinking about disgusting things that would make me nauseous. Sure enough I feel sick so I start to cry to get mom out of bed at about midnight. Mom does her typical, "wait it out and see if he'll get himself back to sleep" game but not this time. I wail and I just continue to wail harder. She gets up like a Mom of the Year would do...comes in, picks me up and ahhhhhhhhh...I WIN. Dad's alone in the bed and mom is snuggling me like a momma bear to her cubs singing sweet Amazing Grace in my ear and rubbing my back as we rock back and forth. So, now that I'm quiet and content mom starts her slow descent down the road of losing her nomination. With a "I think you're okay, Punkin" she slowly gets up and lays me back down in my crib, tucks me under the blanket and hands me my puppy as some sort of condolence prize. I flip out. For starters, my name isn't Punkin and you're the one that named me so I'm not sure why you insist on calling me that. I start kicking, yelling, the whole nine yards to let the lady know that no, in fact I'm NOT okay and puppy is NOT going to get me back to sleep as I begin to feel the mass amounts of blueberries I had eaten that day rise to the top of my throat. AND with that..the door is closed. Mom goes back to dad who I BELIEVE says, "he'll be okay..he's just gotta work it out" (yes, he hasn't won any awards this year either) and so work it out I did...EVERYWHERE. Then....I fell asleep in it. I wake up once more in the night, cry for just a minute or two because really..what's the point? For her to come in and hand me puppy again and maybe have time to clean up before the stains set? Plus, she wouldn't feel QUITE as horrible if she actually found me in the night while I was sick rather than waiting till the morning. So, this time I just cry for a minute, puke again in stealth mode..and back to sleep.

And finally the sun came out. Although I prayed it would be mom who would find me as I awake and start my typical morning chitter-chatter and work on my vowels in the midst of chunks, it turned out to be Dad since mom had to go to work early. New crib sheets - $40, new bumper - $60, new Puppy - $15, new PJ's - $10, shampoo to get me clean - $8....but the look on dad's face - PRICELESS. It made it ALL worth it. The crib was covered, I was covered, all in my hair, all over puppy -- you get the picture. I was happy as a clam though AND I got a special early morning bath out of the deal and stained (permanently) just about everything in sight. The best part - I gave the bug to my babysitter Annmarie and then to Mom Tuesday night and then to Dad Wednesday night. Guess who didn't get out of their crib as mom and dad prayed to the porcelain gods. Grayson - 4, Mom - 0.