Oof! A rough couple of days.

Riley has been a bit erratic lately. She'll be happy as ever one minute, and then WHAMMO (obscure "Anchorman" ref.) she's in full on Rage mode.

this saturday, she wasn't eating well. Every time we'd lay her on her side or back to feed from Jodie, she'd scream bloody murder. Almost like the Reflux was acting up.

Sunday wasn't quite so bad. but she's still moody.

then last night, Tuesday, I come home and she's happy baby. I take her from jodie after feeding and pick her up over my head to give her a kiss. As I bring her down to me, she pukes... in my beard... everything that's in her stomach. EVERYTHING. Wow. I've never seen her do that much vomiting. She nearly got in my mouth again.

Then, minutes later, after a few smiles... ("I puked all over daddy smiles") she's screaming her head off.

We don't know if it's upset stomach, she's hungry again... we just don't know.

Then we think maybe she's teething already. We give her Tylenol, give her teeth numbing stuff... nothing works. She's yelling and screaming... tears rolling.

We try the bath. She loves bath time. After a few wimpers, she calms down. We have fun bath time.

We take her out, start getting her dressed. Rage mode again. By now, it's about an hour and 45 minutes after she puked on me. She's gotta be hungry... but she won't take a boob.

We give up on the boob, heat a bottle, and she devours most of a 5 ounce bottle as she drifts in and out of sleep.

As we put her into bed, in a drunken milk stupor, she's wide awake. But Mommy reads her a story and she calms down and falls asleep. Finally.

AND THEN...
This morning, baby is fine. But as I'm getting into the car to drive to work this morning. Arms loaded with stuff. I've got my jacket, a can of Dew in my shirt pocket, a mug of coffee, my lunch bucket, a magazine on top of the lunch bucket, and my breakfast sandwich on top of a paper towel, on top of the lunch bucket.

As I sit down into the car, my damn breakfast sandwich not only falls onto the floor of my garage, but into the drain hole in the middle of the floor. NOT ONLY do I have dirt on my sandwich, but leaves as well as dog hair.

I brushed off the dirt, picked off the leaves but it still wasn't clean. I found the dirtiest part of the sandwich, took a big bite and spit it out, leaving me with 3/4 of a breakfast.

I ate it, but I wasn't happy about it.

Such is life. Getting puked on and eating dirty breakfast sandwiches.

But one smile from my baby makes it ALL GOOD.