Another First

No, not walking....No, not talking...Give up?

Driving from one end of town to the other in clothes that were just puked on. And not that formula/breastmilk spit up. That's nothing! I'm talking solid food for two meals plus whole milk, PUKE.

Feel free to pass over this entry if the topic is too much for you. But if you can handle it, it's a pretty funny story. After all, you don't have the smell to contend with!!!

So...we were going to go to another concert downtown. I packed our lunches and headed out. But Lucy woke up early from her morning nap and she was looking a little groggy so I changed course and stopped at one of our beautiful view spots in West Seattle that lets you look across the sound to the city. There were ferry boats, sail boats and barges in the water, a couple planes over head and a seagull that was stalking us at 6 feet waiting for us to neglect a couple morsels. It was a beautiful spot with beautiful sunny and cool weather.

Lucy spent most of the picnic, walking around me in circles with one hand on me and one holding the piece of french toast I had made earlier in the day. She was quite happy to munch, watch the seagull feign attacks and smile at the other various people trying to enjoy their mid-day break. Lucy had made her way around to in front of me. She was smiling that cheesy smile with a mouth full of bread. She even gave me a hug. Behind her was the view of the city. I had just thought how great my life was.

Then it all came to a crashing halt. With one gag, out came breakfast, a couple bottles and lunch. INTO MY LAP. And I mean, really my lap. There is really nothing more disgusting than recognizing what you fed her several hours ago. While I was trying to be empathetic to her. I couldn't help letting out a strong, "aaaggghhh....GROSS!!!" I set her aside so I could begin the clean up. This used to be easy. But now that she is moving and the food was still recognizable...well...you get the picture. I'm trying to block her with one arm, dig in the diaper bag with the other hand (to discover that I didn't have anything to clean with) and try to ignore the various places that were feeling more and more damp. Oh, I forgot to mention that I was sitting on our windshield shade because the ground had been wet. So instead of being able to stand up and shake off easily. It was all contained on more stuff to clean. I won't go into the details of that process but it involved some clothing removal, scooping and no breathing. I actually started by clipping Lucy into her car seat so I didn't have to fight her off as well.

So the drive home was interesting as I couldn't remove the clothes that were the most offensive. I am now clean, she is asleep, the laundry is going and I may be able to sleep tonight without nightmares. I've washed my hands several times and I still don't feel quite clean.