Ah, don't you love those days when you wake up, change your baby's leaky wet diaper, put her in a clean outfit, feed her, burp her, then hear a loud gurgly belch and the sounds of liquid splattering down the rocking chair cushions, curtains and floor? You sit for a few second thinking about about how nice a fast forward button would be ala "Click" but reality quickly sets in. Then you clean her up, change her outfit again, and try to figure out what part of the white exorcist-like vomit affected area needs the most attention while staggering around in a slight stooper (because you've only been "awake" for exactly 4.5 mins). Finally done, you inhale a sigh of relief and sit down to take a breather, forgetting that this very chair is the one you just scrubbed with religious fervor only seconds ago and is still quite wet.
But by then, you don't really care anymore and make no attempt to change your own clothes because you know they will probably be covered in some strange substance sooner rather than later so why add to the ever growing laundry count? There is exuberant babbling coming from the vicinity of the crib where your very clean baby is now talking to herself (probably about the craaaazy lady who is talking to HERself) and you realize being a mom isn't always easy-especially when you're not Mary Poppins. You can't just snap your fingers and sing your way through flying vomit, drink a spoonful of sugar to help the "medicine" of life go down, or pull out a big black bag with unlimited amounts of sanity inside. But you CAN wipe up the spit up with 0 magic required other than that of oxi clean, drink a very small amount of mountain dew or else you WILL be "jacked up" on it, and grab a brown paper bag for those moments when regular breathing just isn't enough. And of course, as Scarlett reminds us, "Tomorrow is another day..."
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