Wednesday, December 10, 2008


Scene: Dinner at our house last night. TD has become an expert at making excuses on why she cannot possibly eat anymore of her dinner. It's a nightly battle.

Me: Just a few more bites. Eat your dinner!

TD: I just have to chew this. (The kid is a pro on chewing her dinner like a cow chews cud. One bean can take about fifteen minutes to efficiently grind to a pulpy mess.)

Me: No! Eat another bite! (Thinking to myself: Hmm...the delay tactics are strong in this one.)

TD: I just need to have to have a sip of my waaaattterrr.

H: Eat now or you will go to bed!

TD: (Shuffling in her seat and doing a jig and jabbing her stomach with both hands.) Nooo! My tummy hurts!

Me: Your stomach hurts because you keep poking it. Stop that!! EAT!! For the love of!

This goes on for about fifteen more minutes until H finally loses it and tells her to get up and get her butt upstairs for bed. No stories. No songs tonight.

TD freaks and projectile vomits not once but twice all over the dinner table.

Me: AAAAHHH!!! I leap from the table with Dash Two in my arms. Five seconds later: Well, that's a first...

H has TD over the kitchen sink as she continues to spew all of snack time and dinner Linda Blair style into the sink. She has not thrown up since she was a baby and is panicking. She reminds me of my friend E more and more each day I think.

TD: I don't like big hiccups Daddy. I don't like them. I want my owl jammies...

Me: At least it was chili and not pea soup. That would have been really funny. H and I are now laughing uncontrollably. I feel bad about it but I've never actually seen anyone projectile vomit in real life before and it does have a certain comic element to it. H and I are going to hell for this type of parenting for sure.

Twenty minutes later after a glass of milk (Yes, I'm serious. H gave TD milk. She probably asked for it. I was busy elsewhere but I could have told him that would have ended badly. Pukers shouldn't drink milk.) she projectiles at least three more times all over H and the office floor. Thankfully the laundry area is right next to it as they both had to be stripped down.

Good times. Good times indeed. Now where are those Christmas cards?


  1. Oh.

    This was exactly the post I needed to read first thing in the morning. No, seriously. I laughed so hard the Girl asked what was wrong. haha. I am glad to hear that Beast and I aren't the only "spewage laughers". While we feel badly for the kid, projectile vomitting is ALWAYS funny. Without exception...well, there might be an exception, but I'm going to go with No on this one. :)
    have a great day!

  2. I've made up little "badges" that I award myself when conquering the hurdles motherhood throws in my path. I have a few "puking all over the floor" badges, a "baby pukes down my shirt" badge, a "diarrhea all over" badge, etc. You get the point.

    But I think "puking all over the dinner table" deserves it's own badge.

  3. Melissa Parlaman (Graco contributor)8:42 AM

    My latest excuse is "I'm scared." She definitely uses this to her advantage since she starts to tremble a little & say those words. i asked her to clean up--she says "I scared." Can you get the phone for mommy? I scared...boy, this is getting old!

  4. I was just perusing my son's journal the other night (to compare my kids - who was smarter at this age? I was wondering) and I found a similar entry. Apparently my son (about 1 1/2) had pooped in the morning when he woke up and then proceeded to walk around the room and back up against every wall creating a beautiful poop-stamp border at about 2 feet all over the walls. After helping with clean up, I got back into bed 20 minutes later to finish nursing my DD (who was about 1 month at the time) and she puked all over me. Yeah- those are some good times :)


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