We've come a long way, baby.

Joel and I took Brice for his one-year check-up with Dr. Lialios on Monday. He weighed in at 26lbs and was 31.5 inches long, putting him between 90-95th percentile for both height and weight. We saw the nice curve on Brice's growth chart, which let us know that he's pretty much remained consistent in his growth throughout the year. We were given the go ahead to start the transition from formula to whole milk (yay!). Dr. Lialios also recommended that we give Brice the swine flu shot as the children that he had seen to date that had been given Tamiflu to combat the swine flu were coming back at a high rate with pnemonia and bronchitis or other issues. So, minor hysteria from Brice and a few minutes later and our child had his two shots and we were on our way with our next checkup scheduled for early March.

We brought Brice home, dropped him off with Graciela and headed off to work. When I arrived home around 5:30 p.m., I sent Joel and text message letting him know I was feeling a little nauseous and I asked him to come home quickly to help with Brice. The waves of nausea came and went, and I was able to keep food down despite a couple of close calls. Joel put Brice to bed and we took up our normal places on the couch for some Monday Night Football-watching.

At around 10:30pm, we heard it. The lights on our baby monitor lit up and then we started hearing loud, bizarre noises coming from Brice's room. Since I was sitting and these days it takes me about 10 minutes to get to my feet, Joel went to investigate. I stayed comfy and assumed that it was just a bad dream and our little guy would be back to sleep in a few minutes. Then, I heard Joel's voice thru the monitor.

"Mommy, we're going to need your help in here. Throw up central."

Ugh. Let me just note that my child is not a puker. He was never a big spitter-upper (except for some reason whenever people were dressed in expensive suits or coats). The last time he spit-up was when he was still predominantly taking the bottle and some purees, so the liquid is relatively easy and painless to clean up. Not the case anymore. I went in and we found Brice pretty much covered in vomit. His blankets, sheets, pajamas... everything needed to be changed. He was hysterical and scared. Joel and I undressed Brice and he took the little man into our bedroom to try to calm him down while I filled the laundry basket with the soiled items and did the first in a series of laundry runs for that evening. We re-pj'ed him, gave him a little water and I snuggled with him in bed while Joel went upstairs to get some rest. We thought the worst was over... how wrong we were.

At about 2:00 a.m., Brice started to get restless again. He pulled his binky out and started rolling around. I thought that maybe he was hungry, so I grabbed his bottle. He took about an ounce or two and the proceeded to throw up again, this time all over my pillow, up my arm and down my leg. By the time I got him out of bed and into the bathroom we were both totally covered. Brice was less scared this time around and when I put him down on the bathroom floor, he quickly stood up, grabbed his favorite new toy - the electric toothbrush - and started to play. I'll admit, that after his pukey-ness, I wasn't going to stop him from brushing his teeth! I got us both undressed and called to Joel to come help take the sheets and pillows off the bed. Laundry run #2.

Joel suggested that I take Brice upstairs. We were quickly running out of places to sleep! We both put on new pjs and I brought him upstairs and put him down in the bed. Within five minutes, I recognized the tell tale signs. Binky came out, hands started thrashing around. With my pregnant and yet extraordinarily cat-like reflexes, I grabbed Brice and ran him into the bathroom before he spewed, Exorcist style, all over me. If nothing more, I was getting pretty good at this. I brought him back downstairs, changed us both again and brought him over to the couch where at this point, Joel was sleeping with both of our dogs.


It was now 3:00 a.m. Joel commented that I had a piece of green bean in my hair and we both laughed with exhaustion as we realized I hadn't eaten green beans. I sat down on the couch, put my poor baby on my belly and snuggled him tight until he fell asleep. Joel fell asleep. The dogs passed out. I sat there, awaiting the next puke-fest. I sat there until 6:00 a.m. with Brice asleep on me. At that point, I woke Joel up, handed our little guy over and passed out for an hour.

By 7:00 a.m. he seemed to be back to normal. No fever, no more puking and ready to play. Joel and I gave one another a wink as we realized that we had somehow survived the night without yelling, fighting or freaking out. We tolerated the sleep deprivation like champs. The last year had transformed us from novices into true parents, ready and willing to accept any challenge at any hour. I will admit, that over the last few weeks I've been lying awake nights wondering how we were going to manage with Brice and a new baby, but our capabilities demonstrated put many of my concerns to rest. Sure, I'm certain we'll have a tense moment (or year) as we try to figure out how to manage two children but I've got to give it up to the Happy Harvills. We've come a long way, baby.