The Little Prince (formerly BabyKitty2012) has been waking up between 4:15 and 5:15 AM completely starving. The one time he’s slept through until six a.m. was the night when he absolutely, categorically refused his goodnight bottle and instead ate two helpings of solid food. I therefore decided to feed him extra dinner last night in hopes it would do the trick.
It was a little difficult to start with; he kept making “Uh! Uh! Uh!” sounds and refusing food. I quickly figured out that The Answer was a) give him his own spoon; b) hold the food container on the tray so he could access it; c) let him smear bits around and dab with his own spoon while I shoveled in the rest. Once Mama caught on, he DEVOURED the whole squash serving in less than two minutes. Excited, I called for another food container from the cupboard and started spooning in turkey and sweet potatoes. He was LOVING it!! Nom nom nom nom nom . . . And then . . . (experienced parents, you know where I’m going with this) . . .
Halfway through the second container of food, he looked up at me and coughed. Then coughed again. And then THIS happened:
A *HOSE* of orange liquidy food fountained onto the high chair tray as I shrieked “Oh my god!” He coughed. And then did it again. “Oh my GOD!” I yelped.
A third projectile puke.
“Baby! Little Prince! Oh god!”
A fourth, though the volume was definitely decreased at this point.
A shout from the garage. “Is everything okay?”
“No!” I called desperately. “Mike, I need you!!”
A fifth upchuck. Not much orange stuff left.
“Oh, poor baby!”
A dry-heave or two, and he was done. He whimpered and held up his arms to me asking for a cuddle, as orange vomit puddled on the tray and flowed down his shirt.
“Oh, HELL no,” I informed him gently and lovingly.
Mike came hobbling in. “Oh my god. What do I do to help?”
“Run a bath,” I told him succinctly.
I gingerly removed his shirt and bib and added them to the disgusting high chair, carried him into the bathroom, stripped him and popped him into the tub. Then the happy, laughing, cheerful baby had a wonderful time playing with his toys and talking with his da-da while I cleaned up the natural disaster in the dining room.
A half hour later I gave him a bottle and put him to bed. He slept until 4:20 this morning.
The lesson? You CAN have too much of a good thing. Next time, I’ll wait before I give him the second helping!!
lookingforlissa 