Last night I was christened in a bath of baby vomit layered on top of peas and oatmeal. Z tells me that I'm now part of an exclusive group of parents who can claim "bath by upchuck" on their resumes. I just know that after giving 'Rad his bottle last night, he puked so much that his partially-digested dinner made its way down the back of my pants and flowed out through the hole in the thigh of my jeans (yes, I wear jeans with holes in them in public. I'm so 90s). After the first bout of esophageal spasming, I called Z over to help. He ran into the living room just in time to see Connor barf on me again - all over the front of my shirt, up onto my chin, and luckily not into my mouth. It seemed to happen in slow motion, and when I try to remember the exact event, my mind adds the detail of his head spinning around, exorcism-style. I probably overfed him, but I'm attributing at least part of that episode to the fact that his vaccinations on Friday gave him a little bit of a fever coupled with the ick that he's so close to getting over.
Besides that, Connor has been a champion among 6-month olds this weekend. He lived in the car seat for much of Saturday and Sunday, humoring us as we toted him on our hunt for a camera (success), an infant-to-toddler rocker (failure), a new tv for the bedroom (success), and other various odds and ends (successes with failures sprinkled throughout). Then, quietly, his 6-month oldness started to cost us more money than his 5-month and 29 dayness did. As we sat at the Starbucks in Target today feeding 'Rad his noon bottle, I noticed that he had surpassed the max height of his car seat. Why his feet hanging over the end of it didn't clue us into that before, I do not know, but we did a little bit of a freak-out and headed to Babies 'r Us to be good, consuming Americans. We consumed a new convertible car seat and a stroller. Gulp.
Gone are the days of Connor falling asleep in his car seat and us quietly pushing him around the grocery store or Target or Wal-Mart or wherever without disturbing the beastie. Tomorrow, he will ride in a "big boy" car seat for the first time, one that stays in the car while he gets out. Where are we going to hang the chimes and toys that usually amuse him on long car rides? Will we be able to see him on his little car mirror with that behemoth of a car seat in the back? Are we going to regret not getting a bigger car seat that he can lounge in so we can continue to just tote him around without constantly strapping him in and unstrapping him to get out? These are all questions that are soon to be answered, my friends. I'll be honest, I'm a little scared.
Blue Boy came along with us on all of our shopping adventures, but he didn't get to do much besides stick his head out the window and sit in the back seat of the car all weekend. Sorry, buddy. I pay heed to you in extreme close-ups of your dog face.