In the trenches

Isn't it funny how the most psycho moments of motherhood come with absolutely no warning? Last night as I am sleepily waiting for Matt to get home from Cedar Point, I hear this awful noise coming from Gabe's room, only to find him covered in puke. Four hours and lots of puking later, his stomach finally settled down and he went to sleep. In those four hours though, as I am briskly taking sheets off, shaking them outside, etc, I somehow managed to bust my knee on the door molding, gouge my hand on the air grate on the door to our laundry room, and spray blood on the wall as I try to kill a mosquito with my gouged hand. *sigh* thankfully, Gabe has been great today, my wonderful husband let me sleep until 9:30 am and I think we are back to normal. I think it's a good thing that we don't have warning because I think I would somehow try to escape if I knew it was coming!!! But then on the flip side, there is also no warning for the wonderful moments. The "I love you, Mommy!" that comes out of nowhere...