I was awoken at 4 am by my sweet girl whispering to her dad that she threw up and got a little on her shirt on accident. I knew immediately that meant I’d be home from work with her today so I sprung out of bed to assess the damage.

On the way back to the bathroom she told me that she couldn’t make it to the toilet but she did get it mostly in the sink and “that’s better than on the carpet, right mom?”

I got her a new shirt, cleaned her up, cleaned up the sink and got her back to bed.

We’ve spent most of the day on the couch.

I asked her earlier if she’d like to try and eat something. She just replied in a soft whisper, “maybe I’ll try and eat something tomorrow.”

I got her to eat a Popsicle and drink some water. Every so often she’ll sit up and grab her bucket.

The poor girl is clearly miserable and I’ve lost count how many times she’s whispered, “I just don’t feel that well…”

Despite the fact that she is so good at being sick, it breaks my mama heart when my girl doesn’t feel well.