Thursday night around 8:00 p.m., we fed B a bowl of oatmeal and whatever else I can't remember... and then let him play a bit. He was resistant to the food, so that's why I resorted to oatmeal because it's our go-to meal if he puts up a fight. Should've listened to the cues. He came down with a cold five days prior, but things were on the mend. I sat down to breastfeed him and realized he couldn't breathe, so I grabbed Nose Frida. Apparently the pressure was too much, because he started to gag and then proceeded to projectile vomit all over me, the couch, the Boppy pillow, the blanket, my clothes, and all over himself. I immediately called for Ray and he grabbed him and walked into the kitchen. First time real vomiting on me before, ever. Before this, it had only been spit up.
As I was trying to figure out where to go from there, I heard two consecutive splats of more vomiting. I spent the next 30 minutes following scrubbing down baseboards, walls, cabinets, countertops, clothes and all the items still covered in vomit from the living room while B was fed another bowl of plain oatmeal and given a bath.
Did I mention we had to wake at 3:45 a.m. the following morning to make our 6:30 a.m. flight to Dallas? And that it was Valentine's Day?
Yeah.
B was showing no signs of the flu, but all signs were pointing to a minor case of food poisoning. We carried on with our plans, slept very little, and managed to make our flight. Except, after boarding, our flight was mechanically grounded for an hour.
Did I mention we had to wake the baby up at 3:45 a.m. after only 6.5 hours of sleep (when he normally sleeps 11+ hours?).
Yeah.
Pissed off and tired baby, exhausted parents, rude flight attendants, and of course the plane was full of unsuspecting fools who thought they could sleep on the early morning flight.
Finally, we're off the ground after attaching the baby to a breast and getting him to sleep. No more than 10 minutes into the flight and... you guessed it...
Projectile vomit all over me. Just as I was finishing up the McDonald's hashbrown I bought for B to eat.
I spent the next 2 hours attempting to rid myself of the nastiness, pass a screaming baby back and forth, and cleaning the area so it wouldn't smell like rotten eggs.
At the end of the flight, I handed over a granola bar to our seat partner as a peace offering. He accepted.
Finally, in Dallas. The rest of the trip was a whole lot easier, thankfully. First stop, hotel. Then, lunch with a few pretty cool cats that I felt like I'd known my whole life. We drank beers, ate Mexican food, hung out with rainbow
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| Crawling around the hotel hallways with fun Aunt Samantha & hanging out with Gramie & Grandpa |
Stay cool, Dallas.
{No really, stay cool. It was in the 70's days leading and following out visit but in the 50's while we were there. Now we're living in negative wind chills again. What a bust.}
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