...you have a false sense of satisfaction with yourself for putting your baby down for the night at 6:30pm. You put your feet up since Super-J is with Mini-V, start planning what you will do for the rest of the evening with only one child left to say night night to...
...Then the baby stirs at 8pm so you go upstairs to check. Oh, she is hungry!! Go back downstairs, make bottle, feed her and suddenly unexpected (and unwarranted) projectile vomiting ensues. Dinner is on the stove, now cold. Your older child is hovering, asking over and over "Did Buttercup bombalid (translation: vomited)? Did she bombalid (translation: vomit)?" - YES, Mini-V, she vomited!!!...
...Super-J appears and swiftly takes the baby over to the laundry to contain the contamination and SHE VOMITS IN HIS MOUTH!
Meanwhile, a little voice in the hallway is chanting, "did she bombalid, Mommy? Mommy! Is that bombalid?". YES, Mini-V, she vomited, yes it is! Please go play with Daddy's iPad!
The now naked Buttercup is on her stomach in the hallway, giggling, happy. If you didn't know any better, you would never have guessed she had been hyperventilating amidst tears just five minutes prior.
After significant damage to a roll of paper towels and a spray bottle of Woolite, along with successful final efforts to put Mini-V to bed and the permanent discarding of a few furry friends from the nursery - oh and don't forget a load of laundry, two showers (one for Daddy and one for Mommy), plus a bath for Buttercup later and it's finally dinner time. In our exhaustion, there was no effort made to re-heat it. It is 9:30pm.
Hey, at least they are both sleeping now. For the moment.
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