My baby spits up.
I might have mentioned it.
Three-gajillion times.
Mostly because it kind of consumes my life.
When you put her on her tummy, without fail, she vomits.
It doesn't matter if it's been ten minutes or three hours since she's eaten, barf-a-roo.
Nine times out of ten, she rubs her face in it before you can get to her to wipe it up.
Incidentally, right after these pictures were taken, I was carrying Carolyn upstairs and she hurled down the back of my shirt and in my hair. Then, she turned her head and ralphed straight down the front. Nothing like cleavage full of throw up.
Awesome.
