Don’t do that again, Miriam!

Late this morning, so late that it was almost early afternoon, Miriam and I ventured out of the bedroom. Rachel was very excited to see us. She’s often telling me how tired I am and how much I sleep and once when I came out of the bedroom after an extraordinarily long nap she exclaimed,

“Happy founding, Mommy!”

A “good morning” was definitely not called for since it was almost dinner time but she had to think of some way to greet me, I guess.

Anyway, when we came out this morning, Rachel wanted to hold Miriam so she got all settled on the couch with the boppy on her lap to help support Miriam and I handed Miriam over.

For a long time they sat peacefully and blissfully together, staring into each others’ little faces and smiling when suddenly…

*Gag!*

*Gurgle!*

*Bleeeh!*

…Miriam spat up. All over.

In general, Miriam is not a very spit-uppy baby, but when she spits up she does a very thorough job. It’s either a little dribble down her chin or the whole contents of her stomach. This one was of the more explosive variety.

It got all over Rachel’s arms, all over Rachel’s shirt, all over the boppy. It was dripping down Miriam’s nightie and so much of it had run down the back of her neck that her hair was soaked.

I have never seen Rachel move so fast (and she moves fast a lot of the time, so that’s saying something). In half a second she had ripped her arms out from under baby Miriam (luckily the boppy was there to catch her because I wasn’t fast enough). The look on Rachel’s face was priceless—absolutely horrified.

Grandma ran to get a burp cloth.

I took Miriam from Rachel’s lap.

Rachel continued to wig out.

Miriam sighed and went to sleep.

“Get it off, get it off!” Rachel cried, “She throwed up on me! Ew! Miriam throwed up! It’s on me! Get it off!”

After I wiped her off she ran across the room and sat on the other couch, still looking horrified.

“Miriam didn’t throw up here!” she said, claiming her safety zone, “She throwed up oyor [over] there. She throwed up on the pillow and she throwed up on me!”

After she recovered from the initial shock of having someone else’s stomach contents being spewed all over her, she started lecturing sleeping Miriam,

“Don’t do that again, Miriam. That’s yucky. Don’t throw up on me!”

For the most part Miriam ignored her and slept on.

I told Rachel the story of how when Auntie Josie was little she spat up right into Auntie Abra’s mouth. (The moral of that story, in case you’re wondering, is to never put a 9-month-old baby stomach-down on your feet and bounce her above your head while doing big, mouth-wide-open smiles at her). We also had a little discussion about how throw up and spit up are different: spitting up is less gross (according to Auntie Abra it doesn’t taste half-bad; it’s kind of sweet) and Miriam will continue to do it until she gets quite a lot older so it’s something we have to get used to.