Vomit Target Practice

Last night, all four of us were cuddling in the big bed reading stories. Once we finished the last story, it was time to brush teeth, something Laurel usually looks forward to. Normally, she gets very excited and makes the toothbrush sign by swiping her right pointy finger across her open mouth. We just have to give her the toothbrush, and automatically she pops it into her mouth and brushes away with sheer delight. Last night, however, she was arching her back, trying to wiggle free of my grasp.

I thought she was acting this way out of sheer exhaustion, so I told Paul and Ian to kiss her goodnight. When brought to an upright position, Mount Laurel exploded, vomit covering her, our down comforter, and me.


I'd like to know, where in the mommy contract did it say I would repeatedly be used as vomit target practice? This is the fourth time Laurel has successfully made her mark in as many months. I'm not talking spit up, not even projectile spit up. No, I'm talking completely emptying out one's stomach of chunky puke, puke big enough that you can tell what the vomiter had for dinner.

I'd also like to know how it's possible for a 20 pound baby toddler to spew a quart's worth of vomit. Seriously, Paul and I were waiting for her head to spin.

Needless to say, it was a long night. I chose to sleep on the floor next to Laurel's crib so that I could clean her up when needed, and needed I was. Poor thing, she got sick about eight times in a ten hour period. The washer and dryer are still going.

Fortunately, I was able to get her in to see the doctor early this morning. Good news, she's not dehydrated and it's just some stomach virus that's going around. Bad news, it could last five to seven days. I was sure that would not be the case, since as of that point Laurel had gone five hours without spewing. Once home, I was telling my parents, who were wonderful enough to babysit Ian on such short notice, that I thought Laurel was doing better when, oh yes, you guessed it, she vomited on her and me again.

About four this afternoon, I decided it was time to try something besides water since Laurel hadn't lost her cookies in the last five hours. Chicken broth, noodles and crackers were on the menu. She kept signing more and pointed at the chicken broth, but refused to eat the crackers or noodles. After about six spoonfuls of broth and some sips of water, she was done. I reached down to pick her up from the highchair, rested her on my hip, and of course she upchucked on us both again. Aha, but I was smart enough to be sporting a very large towel! Only Laurel had to be changed. Question, will I be smart enough to elude her target practice in the middle of the night? Only time will tell.