Jack is an interesting baby. He has been pretty calm so far in the first three weeks of life with only a handful of really fussy times and only a couple of nights where he didn't sleep very well. Despite all of that he has one talent that truly amazes me to no end.
About a week ago Holly, Jack, and I were sitting on the couch watching a little college football in the morning when my arm started to get a little tired from holding Jack. I figured since he was nice and calm, just sitting there looking around the room I would lay him out on the floor and let him do a little wiggling. He hadn't been on the floor for more than about a minute when all of the sudden he turns his head to the side and projectile vomits across the living room floor everything he had eaten so far that morning. This is where it gets a little strange. You would think a small baby who had just thrown up would be a little traumatized, especially when it came out through the nose as well, but no he just threw up, and rolled back over happy as can be.
Holly was of course mortified and worried that he had hurt himself, but I promised her nothing was wrong, he probably just ate a little too much and his little stomach decided it didn't have room anymore. We got him cleaned up and gave him a bath that morning and life continued on.
Fast forward to about three hours ago at 5:00am this morning when Holly had Jack in the bed with her for a few snuggles following a feeding a bit earlier. I was out on the couch because I couldn't quite get comfortable on the bed at the time and all of the sudden I hear a gasp and a yelp from Holly followed by a "Caleb! I need help!"
Apparently, Jack had accomplished the same feat. He was asleep, snuggled next to Holly, and all of the sudden just turned toward her and threw up like a champion. Out the mouth, out the nose, and even managed to get some in his little ear. We tore the sheets off the bed, threw them in the washer and changed Jack's clothes and then Holly took him upstairs to the guest bedroom to finish sleeping out the morning.
Once again, he didn't make a sound. No crying, no groaning, no red or scrunched up face, nothing. No warning of any kind, just turned to the side and let loose. Nothing afterward either, he just looked at us with big eyes and an expression that seemed to say, "Aren't we supposed to be sleeping right now, Dad?"
That's my son, Vomit Boy, saving the world one batch of throw up at a time.
8 years ago
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