Somebody has to be the bad guy. And today, I am the bad guy. If you remember, my daughter likes to puke. She makes herself vomit if she doesn't want to go to bed, if she doesn't want to eat dinner, if she is really pissed off about something, etc. It started last summer and has been a regular part of our lives for the past year. However the problem has greatly decreased over the past 6 or 7 months. Sometimes she'll go an entire month without forcing herself to vomit. This is AWESOME.
But the problem still exists. She still makes herself puke. And it still makes my blood boil. On Easter Sunday, Porgie made herself puke because she didn't want to eat lunch. She wanted to eat candy instead. I managed to remain fairly calm during her episode, but all of her candy was confiscated, and she was sent to bed early.
Fast forward to today. When lunch time rolled around, she told me she wanted soup. I prepared the lunch she had REQUESTED and put her in the highchair. After two bites, she asked to get down. I told her no, so she started gagging herself. Knowing that she was getting ready to vomit, I ran to the linen closet to get a towel. I tried to stay calm. Truly I did. But as she vomited onto her tray, I lost it. I SCREAMED at her. I screamed LOUD. But she seemed unfazed by my rage, so I made a brash decision. I took away her night-night (aka her most prized, beloved blanket).
She started crying. I told her that she could have night-night back after she woke up from her nap. She cried harder. I put her to bed. And she cried for the entire 2 hours. I felt like shit. Why did I take away her favorite thing in the whole wide world? I almost caved and gave her the damn blanket, but I didn't. I am hoping that she learned a valuable lesson today. I know I did.