We'll call him Ralph now.

So, on Sunday night, after a weekend of drama that shall go unnamed, Max woke up crying. It was about an hour after we had put him down. I was doing some cake sketching and Jeff was computering when we heard him crying. He's a vocal sleeper so noise is not uncommon, but this was actual crying and it raised my eyebrow so I went in to investigate. I opened the door and he was sitting up and as I got closer, I saw a dark mass in the bed with him. He was pretty upset so I clicked on the light to see that he had barfed up his entire dinner all over himself and the bed. The last throwing up episode we had was when he was still on formula and formula puke is more like "spit-up," which is still gross and smells like hatred but it's pretty easy to deal with. However, this was Big Boy Throw Up, complete with entire pieces of pepperoni pizza. I seriously have doubts that this child actually chews and digests his food because, well it looked like it did on the plate. Poor Max was sitting there with throw up all down his PJ's, in his hair, on his feet and all over his blanket. Not to mention the huge pile on the mattress. He was obviously upset so I stripped him down and took him to the bathroom to clean him up. Jeff was left to clean up the bedding because that's how I roll. I have a severe aversion to throwing up, which was made worse several years ago after I saw a clip from a throwing up porno. It was so disgusting that I was unable to eat a Taco Bell bean burrito for about 5 years because that's what I was eating when I watched it. For the record, I wasn't actually watching the throwing up porno (not that I have a problem with porno or anything but this was SICK) but someone sent me a clip from it. I don't like throw up or seeing people throw up or hearing someone throw up or anything regarding throwing up so I wasn't too keen to clean up the bed chunks.

I got Max all cleaned up and he seemed okay, sleepy and sad looking, but okay. I figured that him going back to sleep was a one in a million chance at this point so I started cleaning off the bed in his room for myself. Jeff was holding Max and was trying to soothe him when all of a sudden he's like "HOLYCRAP" and I turned to see Max blow again. He missed Jeff's mouth by an inch (so gross). Now, instead of running to the kitchen or the bathroom to hold him over the sink or tub, he held him out so he was barfing on the carpet. Well played. I grabbed a towel and threw it down but by that point it was too late so we began cleanup, round two. I had given him water after the first round, which was a mistake, and this was the water cycle. I looked down and saw something red and yelled "HE'S THROWING UP BLOOD!!" and Jeff was like "um honey, it's just pepperoni." I'm cautious. Anyway, we got him situated and I took his temp (normal) and gathered my stuff so I could sleep with him. I use the word sleep loosely.

We all know how much fun sleeping with Max is so we set up a giant pallet on the floor so we all could share in the fun as a family. Jeff abandoned ship at about 2am but I stuck it out until 5:45. The floor here is hard and this child insists on sleeping perpendicular to whoever else is there so you either have a foot in your side or a hand slapping you in the face. I got about 7 minutes of sleep. I thought this illustration would give you a better idea.He didn't throw up again but I was all SWINE FLU ALERT and took his temp about every hour yesterday. He ate normally, pooped more than normal but never threw up again so I'm going with the theory that he ate something that didn't want to stay inside him. I began to mentally list what he had eaten over the weekend and it should be no surprise he was barfing all over. Since Friday night he ate, in addition to his regular stuff, jalapeno potato chips, fried and regular dill pickles, mini burgers with welsh rarebit and obviously, pepperoni pizza. He is a connoisseur of fine foods, DON'T JUDGE. Anyway, the moral is that he's been fine ever since and I made it through my first big barfing episode without contributing myself. That's love, people.