What's a little puke in your hair?

Hey kiddo. I hope you're feeling a little better than you were last night. One of my favorite things about you is your resilience, and your joy. You have this amazing ability to be miserable one minute, and bouncing-off-the-walls happy the next. Take last night, for example. You went to bed at your regular time, were prefectly fine for a few hours, then BAM. 12:30, as per your usual when something is up, your Dad and I were woken up to the sound of you screaming crying at the top of your lungs. Not that this happens very often, but when it does, it usually means puke. Puking scares the heck out of you still. (Although at times like this, you'll call for me as Mama instead of Mommy, and I just melt.) So we got you cleaned up, bed stripped, hands and hair rinsed and lots of hugs given, with you crying in fear still the whole time. Once your bed was made and fresh pajamas were had, you started dancing. Seriously, prancing around your room like nothing at all had happened. I hope you realize what an amazing ability this is and that you never lose it. People have such fear of life, of all of the little things that really mean nothing in the grand scheme of things, and it's so difficult for most people to see past the minutiae and just be happy. One of my strongest-held beliefs is that people don't differentiate enough between problems and annoyances. Problems are things like cancer, car accidents, house fires. That's it. Nothing of any lesser value qualifies. Everything else is just an annoyance, and will be gone from your life before you know it. Believe me, there are days I need to remind myself of that because some little thing has gotten under my skin and I have a hard time getting past it, just like everyone else does. But I try my damnedest.

A little puke? No big deal if you can remember how to dance afterwards. Hang on tight to that.