a little story from his infancy

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In honor of my boy turning 4 today, I thought I'd dig out a story from his early days to share with you....this is one of those stories that I will tell at his wedding :)

This week the little boy had his first bout of gastroenteritis, in layman's terms,  he sprung a leak from both ends. Linda Blair’s got nothing on this kid.

That evening, feeling really bad for the little guy, I sat in the living room chatting with him, cuddling him and really doing anything to make him feel a bit better. As we were hanging out I decided to hold little boy up, you know, at face level- after all we were chatting. He was really enjoying my conversation as he was smiling and cooing at everything I had to say. Honestly, he’s 3 months old, I think I could have been reading the phone book and he would have been laughing and smiling, anyway, that's when it happened. The sweet smile faded from his chubby face. Hhmmm, ok well maybe he will enjoy hearing me sing to him, or then again, maybe not as evidenced by his furrowing brow. Ok people, this should have been my first clue that things were about to go awry but I’m vain, and I love that he had been enjoying my entertainment and I wasn’t ready to be out of the spotlight. So, I did what any other vain, hard headed mother would do, I continued to hold him up while while making a jackass out of myself with my singing, cooing....wreeetttccchhh! Holy sh*tballs warm milk came flying out of his little mouth and nose with a force that flung me to the back of my chair. I’m sure it was because the milk was still warm that it was so forceful, I don’t think cold milk hits quite as hard and I’m pretty sure cold milk isn’t nearly as gross. Honestly, why it didn't come flying out of his tear ducts is a mystery. I cannot find the words to describe the priceless look that was on his face once he had completely emptied himself on me. His face was all covered with the lumpy, beige-ish colored meal he’d consumed an hour earlier.  His nose was dripping people and he sat there grinning from ear to ear. Meanwhile, I'm still hung up on the fact that the milk was still warm as I sat there battling the waves of gagging.  It took both Corey and my daughter to rescue me from the aftermath. Corey quickly whisked him off to the bathroom as I stood, carefully, attempting to contain the spill, trying to keep the shrapnel from splattering on my new rug. . Ahhh...fate was on my side, I happened to be wearing the most absorbent cotton pants on the planet~ no dripping or oozing off my lap. Seriously, I think I could have broken out into some type of break dancing routine and not spilled a drop. If there is ever another oil spill in the ocean I will be on the scene to donate these pants. If only they had these pants in New Orleans, Katrina would have never made headlines.... Anyway...I'm off to the bathroom to take a well deserved shower. HA- I honestly thought I was going to have to send my daughter into the garage to retrieve some tool, I don't know a crow bar, the jaws of life maybe, to remove my soaked pants from my now soaked legs. Good Lord, what did I feed this child, paste? My pants were stuck to me as if a gallon of quick setting concrete had been poured into my lap. We did survive it, I got my pants off (while leaving some flesh attached to my legs) and after we took a shower we managed to come out of this smelling pretty good.

Fast forward to 4am- little boy wakes up with a hungry vengeance. I jumped up, scooped him up and in a flash had a bottle plugged into the weapon of mass destruction, formerly known as his mouth. Ahhh, visible relief. Then it happened- his little mouth released its firm grip on the bottle- ugh oh- then it happened- his brows furrowed- HA- not this time little man. Like a professional baseball catcher I threw my right hand up, layered in a towel, crouched over him in a defensive posture, strategically positioning myself to intercept the violent stream. I was prepared!

Then it happened- his face turned beet red, his body curled up into a tiny ball, followed by a barely audible...grunt. That familiar little grin crept back onto his face signaling his complete contentment. What?! Where's the geyser of warm milk? Why is this towel still dry? And what, for the love of all things holy, is running down my leg?!