Lil Tummies

Eyes on fire.  No sleep.
I am a zombie this morning.  I just spent the last 10 minutes on a celebrity gossip page scrolling through images of Brittney Spears, Rihanna and Bill Murray in 4 different types of plaid.
I am drinking coffee although it can't touch this exhaustion.
It's just for comfort.

Beckam sleeping.  Pepper pondering puppies.

Pepper threw up violently for 7 hours last night.
She'd cry, "Mom!" then her tiny body would heave into convulsions.
I held her.
I caught her puke in my hands with a towel.
I smoothed hair along her forehead.
I let out a vast sigh in preparation for the night ahead.

Now it is past and she is drinking soda on the couch watching 101 Dalmations.
Beckam is keeping her company.
He's had the same sickness but he gets it out and keeps on smiling.

I threw up yesterday too.
I have done this before.
When I can feel that my stomach is ill, and it needs to throw up.  I can't throw up on my own.  My body can't get permission.
I came home from a run and my mouth filled with saliva.  My torso cramped.  I ran to the toilet, but couldn't let it happen.  So I made it happen.  I felt a lot better, although still queezy.
I went about my day for a couple hours...ate a little bit.
Then Lydia hissed at me. I've already thrown up once today, I can get rid of it all.
It'll a free-bee. I can just stay empty all day.  After all, everyone is sick.

Scrawny Pep trying her best to play with a "lasso"

I went into the bathroom and locked the door.  Put a hand on the toilet and then stopped.  I stood up.

This is not the same.  This is not me being sick...this is me purging.  I know it.
I walked away, leaving the water clear and untouched.
I stood up, expecting the traditional self-loathing and dark eyes.

Instead...I smiled at myself.
This will not make me feel better.  I don't have to do this.
I didn't hate myself at all.  I felt love for myself.  It sounds odd to say it that way, but I did.
I looked in the mirror, and I liked who I saw.  I did not need to change her or lie.

Now after 1 day of sickness I can see it in Pepper already.
Her skin is sucked up close to her bones.
I don't want this for her, and I don't want it for me.

"My tummy's all better!" She announces.
"My tummy's all better too,"  I tell her.