nursery rhymes, throw up and warriors go to the hospital.

the baby's throwing up, the baby's throwing up, hi. ho. the dairy, oh. the baby's throwing up.

this might keep me from visiting my mother in the hospital today, and i am sort of distraught.  can i call my mother-in-law to watch the tiny throw up? how can i leave her in her first time of need?

but my mother is in the hospital again, second time in as many weeks.  and i am sort of distraught.
scratch the sort of.

last time i was more cool and calm and centered in the 'just get better' and not worry-d.  this time i am finding it harder to gather my cool and calm and my self-counsel is falling on deaf ears, as luck would have it...

this is the second stomach to explode from the 'nursery' and i'm running all cylinders on fumes.  i told my mother yesterday, as i prepared her to go to the ER and she was so upset... ' remember how true it rang for C? when i told him he was safe, because he was a child of God?.... so are you. '   and i felt like a warrior when i said it.  i could almost feel my body swelling up. 

i wish i could carry that certainty with me every minute, but evidently, no.  in order to swell up and be uber powerful, once must understand intimately  deflation.

so be it.

- someone tell me how to stop spending so much time wishing things were different, aye?