Wow, what a week. Bright ended up with pinkeye on Tuesday so I had to stay home from work and reschedule all my appointments. So I worked all week (Wednesday I went in for Lori who was sick). Then lastnight (Saturday night) at around 8:30, out of no where Brighton started puking. And not the here and there little vomits, BIG PROJECTILE EXCORCIST type vomits. After an angry call to the daycare, a frantic call to the doctor, and a call to my friend Gretchen who’s daughter’s 1 year old birthday party we attended that day, we stayed up all night waiting for the next session. Dr. warned me that it would probably last anywhere from 6 – 8 hours. Which doesn’t seem all that long, but at 9 at night, it means it’s going to be a long long LONG night. Brighton and I slept on the chair, bowl in hand. About every two hours he’d wake up, dry heave or throw up slimy bile, then promptly fall back asleep. Mom was wide eyed and paranoid after every episode. Every time I’d try to get a nap, I’d hear a burp which would startle me awake and we’d start all over again. Finally about 5 AM Andrew woke up and took over and I slept until about 9:30. So far today he’s been in pretty good shape. We’re sticking with basics, Breast milk and pedialyte. Tried apples incase he had a bout of the runnies, but so far we’ve dodged that bullet. That will probably come tomorrow when Andrew leaves for PA.

Enough of the grossness. About Brighton’s progress…he alledgedly is starting to crawl backwards, which I guess is the precurser to forwards. I say alledgedly because I haven’t seen him do this yet, so it’s not official. 🙂 We are totally unprepared for him to crawl. Though Andrew did shampoo the carpets yesterday while Brighton and I were at the birthday party. So that’s a start I guess.

Andrew’s birthday is next Saturday the 21st. I’m hoping that Brighton will have his first two teeth or at least one by then. One is really starting to bud and now Brighton has caught on and won’t let anyone look into his mouth. You’d think his jaw was wired shut once he sees your finger start in that direction. He assumes you’re either trying to pick a boogie out of his nose or check his teeth. He’s usually right. On that lovely note, I’d better go rescue my husband who sounds like he’s choking to death. (he’s OK or I wouldn’t have finished this sentence.)


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