My sweet son loves da dinosaur chicken nuggets. Sunday afternoon he ate 4 for lunch...it's the only meat I can convince him to swallow. Anyway, I put him down for his nap. An hour into it I heard him crying and ignored it. An hour later he cries again and I figure he's slept long enough. I walk in and smell it...chicken dino barf. He's swimming in it and had slept in it (stupid mom, stupid! Of course that first cry was about barf!) so it's in his hair.
Into the tub he goes to contain the spew. At this point I'm cursing the nuggets and the bagel he'd eaten at church. I pull out all the bath towels and instruct J to start me on the pile of pajamas. Every hour or so a towel and a pair of PJ's bite the dust. I'm in mommy mode...steel-eyed and resigned to a loss of sleep.
He falls into an dehydrated twilight sleep as I lay him in the Pack & Play (for better containment) I go to bed listening for the sound of urp. C cries at 3 am and I sit in the rocking chair as he eats 1/2 a graham cracker and guzzles a bottle of ginger/orange juice.
"Momee, " he whispers.
"What baby," I ask in my half stupor.
"I want coffee," he pleads quietly.
"Coffee in bottle," he begs.
"No son, you need sleep, " I respond and lay my caffeine addict back in his crib. Did I mention he won't turn 2 until Saturday? This is what I get for drinking coffee while he was in utero...oh yeah, and spiking his bottle with and 1/8 cup of Starbucks House Blend.