My night with Linda Blair

So last night, the munchkin and I were in bed, and she was having her nighttime bottle (yes, we do that…for now). She was slurping it down pretty fast. She pushed the bottle away from her mouth when she was done (like normal) but then she sat up pretty quickly. She laid her head on my stomach, sat up again, and then puked all over my chest and stomach. Before I could get the lamp on, she laid her head back down on my chest…in the barf.

The part I was most bothered by was seeing the right side of her face covered in puke. Before I sat up, I pulled her shirt off and wiped her face with it (as she started squealing in delight). I ripped the barf-stained comforter off, followed by my shirt (this took careful planning as I had to avoid any pouring off onto the carpet). In the bathroom, I wiped myself off really well, tipped my head forward, and still smelled sour milk. I had to give both of us a sponge bath in the sink (a second shower was just not an option…we took a shower together only thirty minutes before this). Amazingly, none got in my hair. I rinsed our shirts off in the shower and then had to clean out the green beans left in the drain.

I had just put new sheets on the bed not ten minutes before this nightmare, so I had to re-make it. We had to go back downstairs so that I could deposit the barf-stained linens at the washing machine area and to get the munchkin a new shirt. I ended up heating about 5 oz. of milk for her, but I was extremely hesitant about it. I tried to put her back down without the milk, but she was having too much fun bouncing around the bed (especially since Daddy wasn’t there to take up half the bed). I only let her have an ounce of milk, but that was enough to put her out. She slept fine after that and woke up as perky as ever.

Wouldn’t it be great if we could all have a barfing episode only to come out of it happy and feeling like a million bucks? I think I’d weigh a hell of a lot less.