Unmatched Talent

Me, my husband, and Aiman were at my husband’s aunt’s house for dinner yesterday evening and it was the usual with  kids running a mock, chatter, me asking if there was anything I could help with and her persistent refusal. Things were going great and we all sat down to have an appetizer before the main course.

Aiman was sitting on my lap and being as happy as could be when he reached for my bowl of fruit. I asked “Oh, would you like some banana” as I mushed a small piece and held it in front of him. He had just eaten some baby food about 10 minutes prior, but I totally forgot that because my memory lasts as long it takes you to blink.

I kept giving him some banana and he kept taking it, so hey, he wasn’t really saying “OK Stop I’m Full I Will Be Overfed Now”

As I’m chatting away thinking what a big boy he was being, I hear a terror striking hack. A hack so strong it couldn’t possibly come from a baby, and PLEASE NOT MY BABY because the hack, THE HACK, means, hmm what’s the word? Oh yes, it means RUN!

Around here, Aiman is known for regurgitating on demand. It is, essentially, his talent. Need instant spit up? No problem, my boy to the rescue. Need an excuse to leave a scene? Yep, he’ll give you that excuse.

So upon hearing THE HACK, my whole body tensed. No sooner had I thought “Oh. Boy.”  did he begin flooding the dinning room with vomit. There was coughing, vomit, more coughing, crying, and vomit again. It was coming out of his mouth and his nose as he cried “Mamamama” and, yes, more vomit.

I’ll give you a minute to register the messiness of that scene.

It was heart breaking to hear him call for me, but what am I supposed to do when I’m slippery with spit up and hardly able to hold him. Funny that my husband didn’t bother to take Aiman away from me because, hey I’m already covered in slimy spit up, I may as well finish the job.

Whenever we said ” This has to be it/ I’m sure he’s done now/ There can’t be anymore left ” HA! YES! Yes, there is more, here it is!

HURL

I also have low tolerance for someone vomiting. So while Aiman was busy emptying his stomach, my body was jerking to keep my own stomach from doing the same. It took more self control than I can handle to not join in on the hurl fest.

Well he not only returned the banana, but also all of  the baby food that I forgot he ate and even some milk. My husband’s aunt was smart enough to grab a bowl to collect the constant flow that continued to spew out of his mouth when my hands and clothes weren’t enough to absorb it all.

I rushed him to the tub where he continued to cough himself up more vomit -because he goes all or nothing!- and then finally calmed down. He went to sleep after a bath, massage, story, and a bottle, not to mention profuse apologizing from mama.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, “This is all your fault you incapable mother, you!” and I accept that, but you don’t know my kid. He’ll choke on his own spit and spit up. He’ll smell something funky, cough, and spit up. You’ll look at him funny and he’ll spit up.

Like I said, it’s his “talent”.

He has gotten better about throwing up as he’s gotten older, but when he does throw up, it’s as if he’s making up for lost time. I feel terrible about this whole incident and regret accidentally overfeeding him by two or three tiny pieces of mushed fruit causing him to reverse all the food he ate in the hour before, but who knew so little could do so much damage?

Oh, that’s right. ME!

I’m sorry my baby-love, but if there’s somewhat of a silver lining to last night, its that you definitely set a record.

Yeaaaah, but let’s try to set any more records…