P-P-P-P-P-P-P-P Puker Face

So, exhausted after four straight days of work (to which I am vastly unaccustomed), Palmer and I tumbled off to sleep last night at 7pm. I also had a pretty profound headache and a neck spasm.

Things proceed normally. He wakes around 10pm for some yum-yum. Then, again around 12:30. Then, again around 2:30. This is the way it goes.

At the 2:30 feeding I was distressed that my headache had not abated and very thirsty. I drink water all night long, but that just wasn't doing the job. So, I ventured downstairs for a big cup of Gatorade and an icepack. Back to bed. Pack under the neck. Cup right next to me on the nightstand. Quickly back to sleep.

At around 3:15 I awake to a splashing and trickling sound. I am confused. I feel for the baby in the co-sleeper. He's okay. The sound stops. Then the sound resumes. Now, I am sure that I have somehow toppled the cup. I sit up and say to Bob, "What is that sound?". He clicks on the light.

There, in the darkness, is my big boy, doubled over, vomiting onto the beige carpet. Splashing. Trickling. No moans, no groans, no wretch. Just the horrific sound of the vile bile splashing onto the pile.

He's clearly confused about where he is. We shout, "Run to the bathroom". We shout this three or four times, after which he begins to stumble that direction, making it only halfway before a pause to splash some more onto the 100% wool hand cut area rug.

He makes it to the bathroom just in time for the event to end. Then, the injustice of a chunk of vomit hanging off his nose faces him in the mirror. Poor thing.

Bob scoops up the chunks, sprays the carpet.

Palmer lays smiling through the whole thing and gets a middle of the night dry diaper out of the deal.

Connor goes back to sleep with a bowl next to his bed.

I feed the baby again and we tumble back to sleep together as I realize that my head and neck are now fine. Replaced by the drama of parenthood.