Jeff Foxworthy once said, "I like to shake my daughter up and then hand her to people I don't like!"

I have almost gotten used to hearing that urpy burpy noise followed by the slow volcanic flow of warm spit up meandering down through my cleavage.  (How is it that I can cover myself with a burp rag and she knows just the right angle to turn her head to completely bypass the cloth and shoot right down my shirt?)  I can get over it easier than T who seems to think this is putting a damper on our love life.  Afterall, who wants to get all cozy and amorous with recently vomitoused boobs?  I can say however that I prefer the pear juice spit up to the mucus/milk spit up.  It comes out easier for her and also cleans up easier. Last night was fun as I was holding her facing away from me, she burped followed by a stream that poured over my arm and then finishing with a lovely splat on the kitchen floor. Ya gotta love reflux. Poor thing.

 

This morning was the best.  Having shed the unhappiness of Monday night (thank goodness) she was all smiles and coos with waving of arms and kicking of legs.  She was positively giddy considering she had just woken up, was in the process of a diaper change and had not eaten yet.  She looked up at me, smiled HUGE, clutched her hands together brought her knees up to her chest and let out a fart that would make a bean eating trucker blush.  She was so happy with herself and I couldn't help but laugh out loud. 

 

I have found however that my daughter is much like those old cans of juice, the kind that you punch a hole in the top to pour out of.  You have to put a small vent hole in one side then a larger one opposite that for the actual pouring.  You relieve the pressure on one end to ease the passing of liquid from the other.  Azure is the same way!  Whenever something happens on one end I can pretty much bet something will immediately happen on the other.