First Puke

The morning of...and the milk we would see later

Well....we knew it was coming. Not at the moment it came....that was a total surprise. But I had heard enough horror stories of fountains of vomit coming from children to think that we may escape without having to reach that milestone.

It was a normal morning. Foster woke up around 9, we packed up and headed to Omee and ChuChu's house. From there we went to music class and Foster was a little tired but not unusually so as it was close to nap time. After music we headed to Maya's house to visit and have lunch and maybe a nap. That's where it happened. Foster went inside and played with the dogs and let Siena show him around the house. He enjoyed Ezra sharing toys and then he stopped. He seemed to just be watching Ezra climb a chair and then all of a sudden torrents of milk started shooting from his mouth. That may be a little dramatic...it was more like it was pouring out than shooting really. I was able to catch some of it but there was too much. At first I thought maybe it was a fluke, just some over excitement or something. But then it kept coming. Maya and her mom, Susan, rushed to get towels while I continued to try and catch as much as I could and comfort Foster at the same time who was a little terrified of what was going on. The dogs were helpful...trying their best to help clean up while we soaked up the carpet and tried to get Foster out of his curdled milk covered sweater and shoes.

Foster was exhausted afterwards and so I thought maybe a nap was in order. He went down easily enough but about 20 minutes later he was crying. I ran upstairs to find him on his hands and knees in the pack and play with a fresh puddle of curdled milk underneath him. I felt horrible for soiling Maya's house and awful for Foster. Some lunch date! We helped clean up as best we could and packed up to head home.

Car ride home

In the car Foster was miserable. Every bump in the road made him turn green and he was fighting against his car seat straps. I thought about how horrible it would be to have to puke and be strapped in an upright position. Sure enough, before too long he was heaving again. By this time it was just yellow bile. Poor kid didn't have anything left. I was able to pull over and mop him up and get him the rest of the way home puke free. The afternoon and evening was spent trying to get liquids in him, only to catch them on their way back out again 30 minutes later. Ryan came home as early as he could and we ended up going through all the towels in the house and most of my pajamas and Foster's pajamas. After puke 9 or 10 we figured out that having a bowel nearby lined with a single towel was far more efficient at catching vomit than trying to catch it all in a towel. It was unfortunate we learned the lesson so late but fortunate that there were only a few pukes left in him before he was done. We put Foster down for bed around 10pm and crossed our fingers. He woke up again around 2am and seemed to be close to throwing up but never did. We were in the clear.

The next morning, watching Curious George

The next morning I worked from home. Foster woke up closer to 10 and watched Curious George while I tried to answer a few emails and get some stuff done. He had a little bit of diarrhea and was tired, but was otherwise fine. I was so happy that it was such a short lived virus. Ryan thinks it was probably noro picked up from somewhere. It turned into 10 hours of throw up and 2 gross diapers and that was about it....until about 10pm that night when I started puking.