Babies really can be so gross. Their lack of mastery of bodily functions, their inability to make their demands known vocally, and their messy eating habits can really make a day with a baby more like a day on Survivor. Good thing they are so cute!
I could also title this post "Weekend Update: Behind the Scenes" because while we manage to do a lot of fun family activities together, nothing is ever as perfect as I like to picture it in my memory (and here on the blog). Life is reals, people.
On Friday night, Xander woke up in the middle of the night crying, which is very rare for him unless he is suffering from some ear troubles. So Saint Philip (as my mom likes to call him) went up and settled him back down to sleep and all was well.
On Saturday morning, after cooking a breakfast of pancakes and sausages, Phil went to the gym and I gave Xander his morning pre-nap bottle. He was sleepy and as soon as he sucked that last drop of Enfamil goodness down, I hoisted all 27 pounds of him up into his crib only to see that last night's lasagna had been vomitted all over the bottom half of his crib. So I quickly scooped him back out of his crib while he was fussy and sleepy and turned around to put him on the floor so I could change the crib sheets. As soon as I was about to put him down to play for a minute, he threw up the entire contents of his bottle and all the baby bite size pieces of sausage from that morning's breakfast. Three times.
I couldn't yell for Phil to help me because he was taking his much-needed and hard-to-come by Daddy-break at the gym, so I told myself not to puke, and started cleaning it all up. First off the baby, then the floor, then the bureau and crib bars, and finally got every last blankie and stuffie and sheet out of the crib from the lasagna mess the night before. I put the clean sheets down and Xander on top of them and he fell asleep pronto.
For some reason, the fact that he had thrown up on Fri night, and Sat. morning still didn't clue us in that he was sick. He was acting fine otherwise, and we kept treating him as normal and healthy. Like giving him a turkey hot dog and pasta for dinner on Sunday night. Big mistake.
Sunday night (Monday morning?) around 1 am, Xander started crying, and again Saint Philip went up to see what the deal was. Next thing I knew he was calling for me to help him because there was hot dog chunks and formula all over the crib. And if you like hot dogs on the way down, seeing them on the way up would definitely turn you off.
So while I gave Xander a bath, Phil changed his sheets and it finally dawned on us that maybe he had a stomach bug. We're very quick on the uptake, we are. He was splashing happily in his bath when all of a sudden he had expolsive diarrhea (or E.D. as we call it). So now I was trying to drain the water as fast as possible while Xander was trying to play with the chunks floating in it. Thank God none of them made it into his mouth, but he sure tried.
We got him all showered off and back into clean crib sheets and he slept until 6 am. Now I am headed to work and with a BRAT diet well established for the day, we'll hope the little guy gets better soon. And I hope you all don't feel too queasy after reading this, just keeping it (too?) real.