Ch-ch-ch-changes.

Back in college, I dated a fairly touchy-feely guy. When he drank, his need for PDAs bordered on obsessive. Of course, sometimes it was hard to know whether he kept his arms deadlocked around my neck as a sign of affection or just to maintain balance.

But in any case, one evening he became a little too friendly with Herr Jaegermeister. And like many who fall under the evil Jaegermeister's spell, he drank way too much of it. So much, in fact, that he booted all over my dorm room.

As he hung his head over the toilet, still periodically ralphing up bits and pieces of his dinner, I started to clean up the mess around him. He turned to look at me, smiled and said, "You are so beautiful. I'm sorry about this. Thank you for cleaning it up."

Then he somehow summoned the strength to throw his arms, covered in bits of bile and Jaegermeister puke, and try to hug me. He did make contact -- just enough to get even more vomit on me -- but as he sort of fell forward with the effort, I realized that his mouth was puckered. The guy had been going in for a kiss! A pukey, nasty, Jaegermeister-y kiss! I was horrified. And I'm not ashamed to say that the visual of him coming at me from the toilet, thinking a big, dribbly kiss was in order, might have had something to do with why our relationship didn't last.

But fast forward a few years to the birth of my son. On New Year's Eve, the little guy overdid it a bit himself. He was having so much fun running around with a bunch of bigger kids -- and stuffing his face with salsa dip -- that he seemed completely surprised when in the middle of running around the living room, it all came up on him. He stood still as he vomited, totally channeling the Exorcist in the force of his pukage, and looked over at me. And while he was still heaving, he walked over to me with his arms open wide. Not only did I pull him close to me and let him finish barfing all over my new silk top bought especially for the evening, but when he was done, I told him it was all right and kissed his still dripping lips. It didn't occur to me to do anything different.

It's funny all the ways that motherhood can change you.