Well, it finally happened.
I've been barfed on.
See this Starbucks cup?
A few nights ago it was filled with a delicious latte for Tim (and me, a little).
Several hours later it served as a mini vomitorium.
Who could have known.
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
It all began at midnight when Moses woke up crying and on all fours in his crib. I just knew as soon as I picked him up that he was about to throw up and sure enough out it came, all over the front of my dress. Tim had already gone to bed so I quickly woke him up to assist in crisis management. He was just as flustered as I was - probably more so from being woken up - and just kept saying "What should I do?" as I continued to hold a crying, barfing Moses. Except I was just as clueless as he was - even though it's not the first time Moses has barfed, it was the first time there was barf in the sink, on Moses, in a towel and on me.
So for the next 30 minutes I sat with Moses while he watched Shaun the Sheep and very calmly barfed into the Starbucks cup without taking his eyes off the t.v. Strange, but I wasn't complaining. After his system calmed down I put him back to bed and began cleaning up the mess. Whether I woke Tim up to help or he woke up on his own I can't remember but nevertheless he appeared with a willingness to assist. Since I had a lot of soiled wet wipes and a seriously offensive Starbucks cup to dispose of, I asked him if he could grab me a plastic bag. He came back from the kitchen grasping a giant pile of Ziplock sandwich bags. *shakes head* I don't even know. I'll blame it on his being half asleep.
By morning, Moses was himself and I was proud of how well I'd handled being barfed on - something I've been dreading! I think it must be the adrenaline that courses through your brain and body as you try to comfort and contain the mess that comes from a crying child who doesn't understand why food is spewing from his mouth.
All in all, not as traumatizing an event as I was expecting.
Next time I'll be prepared with Starbucks cup at the ready.