Eliot spits up every day. EVERY DAY. We expect it; we anticipate it. Owen never spits-up. He hasn't, in fact, in over two months. And then there was Tuesday night . . . after his 5pm bottle and an easy burp, he looked into my eyes, smiled, and spewed his entire undigested bottle all over me.
(Shame on Mike for taking this picture. Shame on you for laughing.)
What you can't see in this pic is spit-up dripping from my eyebrow, nor can you see two inches of spit-up pooling in my sports bra. Yes, this was the end of a very, very long day . . .
Mike and I leave for a weekend trip to Napa this afternoon, and judging by my face in this photo, I definitely need it.