Barfy Baby

We have a barfy baby on our hands this week. Q has been unusually hungry. He is eating two jars of baby food at a time. He used to only have one. It is hard to anticipate what his appetite is going to be at any given meal. Babies do not tend to be patient or reasonable. Yesterday, I was trying to change his dirty diaper before lunch, god forbid. He was not having it. He was crying so desperately you would think I was yanking out his eyelashes or something. Which I wasn't, just to be clear. After the very last spoonful of sweet potatoes he immediately started his desperate crying again. So, I had to quickly follow with some peach-mango-oatmeal, which actually sounds pretty tasty. I made sure he went to daycare armed with two jars. It is a challenge to strike the delicate balance of food though. He seemed to have too much last night. He barfed up some partially digested carrots all over my white (of course) sweater. Thankfully, I wasn't wearing my suit jacket at the time. Not long after, he vomited some milk onto T. At least he is equal opportunity. I respect that. I just hope it is regular run-of-the-mill spitting up and not some sort of stomach flu. He has the faint aroma of barf about him now. It's about time for a bath.

My yoga class was lovely this morning. Every Monday and Wednesday when that alarm clock shrilly rings, I have a slight feeling of dread. Once I get a cup of coffee in me and a few downward dogs under my belt though, I feel like a new woman. It is great to have 20 or so people show up to start their day with me. T and I had to do pull off a baby swap this morning. We are forever handing off keys, cars, car seats, and babies. Ah, the life of a modern mama.

--MM