So, picture this. I'm sitting at my computer, looking through a few pics and whatnot on myspace. My Porter wakes up from his nap, with a smile on his face as always. I pick up and give him love. I'm burying my face in his neck when it happens....he heaves. Not once. Not twice. But three times. He pukes. Projectile pukes. Very little vomit touched any surface without first touching me. Pools of it on his shirt, my arm, my shirt...it's everywhere. I now see that he rarely chews his food before swallowing it. 2" long french fries, apple chunks, filet o fish. Oh, and American cheese.
After cleaning him up, and cleaning myself up, which involved changing EVERY item of clothing I had on, including the hidden ones (hidden, but not safe from puke), I come out to clean up the puke off the computer chair (which is dripping on the floor), and of course, Port's fine. He crawls away to go play in Brother's room.
Then, here comes Dom. For whatever reason he stops, right in front of the fish tank, where I catch site of a brown silhouette coming from inside his diaper. "Did you poop?" I say. "Nope! No poop Mommy!" as he runs into his room. Joy.
I must go now. Maybe I will go hide in the shower.
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haha - aw! I so remember those days! And actually miss them just a tiny, tiny bit! Hope you get a nice long bath by yourself later! :D
ReplyDeleteYeah,no bath. Not yet at least. Baby wipes are my best friend right now.
ReplyDeleteoh! you poor thing!
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