I shoulda seen it coming.  I felt Musfira make a tiny little gagging sound as I held her over my shoulder.  After all, I have three children.  I know how ominous one tiny *herp?* from a child’s mouth can be.  Sometimes that’s the only warning you get before herp turns into full-out hurl.

I could’ve acted faster.

Instead, I waited half a second and, just as I was turning Musfira around to check if she was ok, she threw up- and the motion of being turned created a beautiful, semi-circular arc of vomit that spread outwards from her mouth to the far reaches of the bathroom.

I nodded to myself in acknowledgement of my folly, sour milk dripping from my clothes.  She threw up again, and then tearfully turned to me and asked, “momma, my nose throw up?”

Yes dear, it did.

Everything was hosed down.  This morning, it was hosed down again.  And as I took stock of the dried (and curdled) milk on my shoes, I remembered something funny.  A friend of mine once posted a list, “You know you’re a mother when…” and one of those entries went something along the lines of:

You know you’re a mother when catching vomit in your hands is a cause for celebration, not disgust.

Musfira was recently sick, and HF and I were sitting with her in bed trying to soothe her.  Suddenly, she herped, and because HF and I were both on guard for these things, he quickly picked her up and turned her face away from the bed, and I leaned forward and held my hands out.  Then, she threw up in them.

It was beautiful-  the timing, the execution, the flawless teamwork  in orchestrating such an advanced parenting maneuver.  No vomit on the bed, the floor, or HF.  We would have high-fived if my hands weren’t otherwise occupied.

There’s a little something catching in Dubai right now- when the seasons change and the blistering summer winds turn to the toasty winter winds, germs get all excited about being able to use the sidewalks for once, and they come out to play.  So Khalid and Iman both have low-grade fevers, and Iman is complaining of an ear that “goes boom boom” when she swallows or drinks.  Musfira’s stomach is upset and her nose threw up.  And HF isn’t feeling too well either.

Hey, for a change, I feel fine!  True, I did follow my breakfast with a 9am nap that last until 11:30, and maybe that’s why I’m feeling all peppy and energetic- even about being vomited on!

Really though, I’m just so excited by what’s happening with the GoFundMe campaign- one amazing person- just one- added 2,000 dollars.  Another one person added 450.  I feel almost giddy with excitement and relief.  AllahuAkbar.  Alhamdulillah.

May Allah bless everyone last person and every last cent donated, anonymously and not- and give me the chance to thank each of them personally in Jannah. Ameen.

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Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart. Musfira’s Great Nap Escape Take THAT racial inferiority complex, HA! *rimshot*