You can feel it coming, can’t you? You’re holding your baby when all of a sudden there’s a tightening of his tummy, a cough and that foreboding, dramatic pause.
And you think, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Hold it in, sweetheart”. And then you panic and talk crazy, “No! Please! I’LL BUY YOU A CAR!”
Unbelievably, offering to buy your 10-month-old baby a motor vehicle does little to stop vomiting. So you stand there with the awful knowledge that the next 20 minutes of your life will be hell. And there’s nothing you can do about it.
And then… you are covered in warm, partially digested milk.
Afterwards, to make matters worse, if that’s possible, your unperturbed baby looks up at you and smiles. Smiles. Like “Ahh, wasn’t that fun! Good times, Mum, good times!”
This is what happened to us last night.
The great thing about being covered in baby vomit whilst having a headache and feeling nauseous anyway is the smell. I’m sure all the non-parents have already fled after reading the words “partially digested milk” so I can safely continue. Oh, it’s dreadful. Truly I-want-to-run-away-from-it-crying-except-it’s-on-me dreadful.
You stand there, surveying the now milk-covered room – gripping your wet, grinning baby – not knowing where on earth to begin cleaning it up. So you just hold the child and hope help arrives soon.
This is where mothers-in-law are brilliant. Mine came into the room, took one look at the grim scene before her and asked gently, “Shall I take him?”
“Yes,” I felt like answering. “Yes, you may. For how many weeks?”
As the mother of an almost-two-year-old, I long for the day when I am no longer required to manage and dispose of the results of another human being’s bodily functions. Just this morning, a powerful fragrance suddenly and overwhelmingly permeated the lounge room. “Have you done a poo?” I somewhat redundantly inquired of Junior. “No,” he replied, grinning and clutching at his bottom. With apologies to Rik Mayall, I responded, “Well there’s a horrible farty smell in here and it’s definitely not from my bottom.” The issue was soon dealt with successfully.
Yes, it’s a glamorous job we signed up for, that’s for sure.