I think we need an exorcism.

When my mom was here visiting she asked me if Emily had ever thrown up, or if it was all spit up.

I told her I had no idea, and I wondered to myself if there was even much of a difference?  She's definitely spit up a ton at certain times, and at others it's just a little.

But today was different.  She went through six outfits today.

Today was a learning experience.  If her normal spit up amount is a lizard then today's was GODZILLA.

The story:

She's laying on a pillow in front of me and had just finished her bottle.  All of a sudden she made some fussy noises and then it EXPLODED OUT OF HER.  As if she was possessed.  Seriously people.  She soaked herself, she soaked me, she soaked through the blankets on the bed.  It was a fountain of milk.  It was not pretty.

So yeah Mom, she's thrown up.  Projectile.  On me.

Where bugs go to die

This morning when I woke up I was AWAKE!

Emily was too.  She spit up on me 5 times.  If there's anything left of her breakfast I'd be surprised.

Anyway.  I decided to do all the laundry and clean up. Part of cleaning was airing out the house! It's a beautiful day today- going to be 80 degrees- and my house smells stale.  When opening all the windows I found the bug graveyard of my house.

Here's two views of the front windowsill.  Those black dots? Probably 100 bugs or more.  

Eww I know.  But it's behind the back of the couch, so it's not like I've ever thought about it.  Yes, that is my excuse.  Last week my kitchen was sanitary.  I make no such claim for the rest of my house.

Just so you know, I did clean them up.

Mostly.

Internet reads

When I'm up at 3 am (or 1 am, or 230, or 5 or EVERY TWO HOURS) I tend to reach for my phone for something to read while I pump/ feed Emily.

These two sites have been my favorites lately.

FML.com

This site is full of posts of issues people have had in life.  "F my life"
It's sometimes hysterical.  Makes me glad I'm not them.

Dooce.com

Warning- this blog is not really mormon friendly
This mom is a former mormon living in Salt Lake City.  I think she's absolutely hysterical.  She's not ranting in anti mormon ways, she just has a potty mouth.  She has two kids, a husband and two dogs and the stories she writes are so much fun.  This blog has been online for years and years so there's a lot for me to go back and read.

What are your favorite sites/blogs? I'm always looking for something new.

Her Own Agenda

Tonight was bath night for Emily.

David was in charge of it as I'm kind of sick.

So he gets her in the bath and she gets all cleaned. I hand him her towel and as ge exits the bathroom with her she pees on him.

So back in the tub she went.

This next time they made it to her changing table where she spit up all over her bare neck and chest - it got into fat rolls. Once clean fat rolls.

This time she was baby wiped.

After a clean outfit was on, David picked her up and she promptly spit up again all over them both. I guess she didn't like being clean.

Emily has her own agenda.

Sunday Grunts

Fair Warning- this is another loopy post due to the effects of Percocet in my system.

Today is Sunday.

And what a Sunday it was!!

Last night David offered to take Emily for the whole night! I was very happy to oblige him.  I'm not sure I even fake protested....  When that happens my night goes like this:  I go to bed at 10.  I play on my phone for an hour just because I can, then I sleep until one when I wake up and pump.  I sleep again until 4 when I wake up and pump, and again at 7.  Then by 9 am David has come in to drop off Emily so he can get a solid block of sleep.

To a lot of people that isn't a happy night.  Waking up 3 times for 45 minutes each time when the baby is being taken care of by someone else? Crazy I know.  But the ladies just don't let me go longer, they wake me up and are ready to pop by then.  (Normally I pump every 2 hours but I allow myself the extra bit at night).

Now, the stipulation for a whole night alone is that David can ask for help at any time.  Last night I fell asleep at 1030, woke up at 1230, woke up at 430 and then again at 515 when David came in, unceremoniously put Emily on my pillow and gave me a pleading look that said "Help me my wonderful wife because our child has kept me awake too much."   Being the gracious wife that I am I smiled and told him to go get some rest.  And thus began my day. 

Emily was given to me because she was grunting.  Now, I'm not sure if I've said this yet but she is not a cooing baby- she's a grunting baby.  She grunts and growls (and if she started barking I wouldn't even blink) and yells and occasionally cries but she's only ever coo'ed a handful of times.  She coos all day long and sometimes even when she sleeps.  Which was the case.  She grunted as David handed her to me and proceeded to grunt loudly enough to keep me awake for the next two hours.  At 615 my alarm went off.  Which was wrong because it was set for 715.  And I thought, maybe that's because it was daylight savings today? Nope.  Couldn't be that reason because of two things: 1. My iPhone updated itself to the right time all on its own  and 2. We went forward an hour. Which means that my head said it was 515 and my phone was just stupid.  =)

Anyway, I pumped, fed the baby, took a shower (which she mercifully slept through), got dressed and then woke David at 745 for church.  While he "hit the snooze" (because yes I am that nice) I picked up Em to wash her hair at the sink so she wouldn't be greasy for her adoring fans.  She slept as I picked her up, slept as I wet down her hair, slept as I washed and dried it and only woke when I changed her diaper with a cold wipe.   And then she grunted/whined at me.  

We made it to church on time. 9 am.  Unfortunately I cannot say the same for half the congregation.  There were quite a few empty seats that filled slowly throughout the service.  Emily spent the entire time grunting loudly- everyone around us kept turning to her and giggling at us.  David tried to stifle her a bit with the binky but the grunting comes from her throat and she just grunts anyway with the bink in.

During Sunday school she grunted.    A lot.  One of the ladies named her the "grunty baby."  It is both funny and mildly embarrassing.  But hey, what can you do?  No guilt here.  (Guilt- that's my next post someday).

During Relief Society she was finally in the arms of her adoring fans.  She fell asleep in my lap and as another woman sat down she commented on how beautiful Em was and how much she loved her hair (that's Em's biggest compliment, her fantastic hair).  I offered the let her hold the baby and she jumped at the chance.  The moment Emily was in this woman's lap, she decided to fart.  

Seriously.

We had just spent TWO hours annoying the world and the she just lets one rip right on a woman who has been very nice to us.  This woman just laughed, as did BOTH rows around us.  And everyone spent the first ten minutes of the lesson ignoring what was happening and smiling at Emily instead.   That baby sure played it up.  She showed off how she holds her head so well.  She did her cute "I'm yawning" face and noises.  She grunted and groaned and yelled for her admirers.  She even spit up a little and had everyone remembering when their babies did that.  

I'm telling you, this kid is a ham.

Speaking of, what in the world does that even mean? Does a ham purposefully attract attention?

So she grunted for three hours this morning.  Grunted through three hours of church, and then grunted all afternoon at my friend S's house.

S hosted us and another couple over today for an adult/child/infant CPR and first aid class taught by her mother's husband.  He is a very nice man named A.  A is an EMT and teaches this class all the time, but never for free like he did for us.  It was a lot of fun, and was nice and relaxed.  So relaxed in fact that we were there from 2 until 7pm.  The three hour class took five, but that was just fine.  Except for Emily and her grunting.  She grunted through the only two bottles that I brought.  She grunted when anyone held her. She grunted in the swing.  She grunted at the floor.  She grunted at the couch.  And when she was hungry again she grunted at my boob- and then spit up all over it.

She is currently in her bassinet downstairs with David, grunting in her sleep.

And I am upstairs.  And about to have a lovely three hour sleep while he takes the first shift.  Extra lovely from my medicine I had to take because all of those CPR chest compressions brought back my shoulder pain (tendonitis really really SUCKS and doesn't seem to ever go away).  The shoulder has been flaring up the last couple weeks, probably from carrying the goober around all the time.  Yesterday I cleaned the house (not only is my house clean, my kitchen is now SANITARY.  that's right, eat your hearts out.  No really, go for it because it's only going to stay this way for another week or so).  That scrubbing made my shoulder sore but today really did me in.  Speaking of, I need to let it rest and typing this very long post cannot be helping it.  

So I shall say Adieu.

Or Achoo.

They're rather similar in my opinion.

I never can hear the word Adieu without thinking of the Sound of Music and that song the whole family sings- "So long, farewell.... Adieu Adieu to you and you and youuuuu.....  Gooood byeeeee"