Monday, June 20, 2011
Starting the day Projectile Style
I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that anything involving the word projectile is not a good thing. When Donkey was around 7 weeks old, we had one of those mornings. He had been up to eat around 2:30 am, and was back up right before 7. My husband gets Princess up for school a little after 7, so I was already in the living room feeding Donkey when the rest of the crew came downstairs. Donkey was taking his bottle, and I was talking to the rest of the family. He finally finished the bottle and I put him on my shoulder to burp. He had a really small burp, so I sat him back on my lap and started talking to him. He coughed a little, and looked like he was going to burp again, so I turned him to pick him up and put him back on my shoulder. Before I even got him up off my legs, it happened. He massively projectile spit up. It was all over the place, including on me and on him. Donkey's clothes were wet, and half of me was soaked. (It was only half because of how he was turned. I guess that was lucky?) The cushions, arm, and back of the sofa were covered. The floor in front of the sofa was covered. Princess screamed. Pirate did the same because he copies Princess all the time. Trouble yelled "Uh-Oh". I felt tears, but held them back. I was already a hot mess before 7:30 am and crying wouldn't help anything. I just wanted to go back to bed and start over, but no such luck. The joys of newborns continue!