The Calm and The Storm in Washington D.C.

This was Aeli at about 12:30 pm on Saturday night, as we were all about to go to bed:

Then- not sixty-seconds after I stopped recording, he projectile vomits EVERYWHERE. Exorcist style. Fountains of liquid white shooting from his little mouth, soaking my shirt and pants, creating a huge puddle of spit-up in the middle of Ariel's bed. I just sat there for a second, dripping. Stefin's all, "Oh my god! What was that?!"

Aeli just smiles. He's not upset one bit.

We use at least four regular-person-sized towels to sop up the mess. Change the sheets, change Aeli and his outfit, wet-washcloth-off his spit-up-soaked head, change my outfit, literally all of it, including my underwear, which was also soaked on one side. Sitting in a pool of puke will do that, I suppose.

Aeli goes peacefully to sleep as soon as he's in dry clothes, and Stefin and I tip-toe around, making laundry piles and towel piles and finding more towels to use as barricades beneath us because the spit-up has soaked all the way down to the mattress and seeps up when you lay on it.

Happy as a clam, though, that boy.