I’m worried the little fella is out to give us a bad name.
Last night, during the first of many Christmas appearances we are to make this week, he created a bit of a stir.
For most of the evening, he was his usual calm self, sleeping in his car seat for almost an hour and a half after we arrived while other children scampered about with their parents in tow, worrying they would cause some terrible disturbance. The little guy even managed to sleep through one of these sugar-hyped tykes falling into him.
Once he was awake, he did his usual sit-and-stare routine while various people cuddled him. He even managed a few smiles for the ladies, which led everyone to comment on how mellow and well-behaved he always is.
After all of this, when all the other kids had gone home or to bed, he became the centre of attention when conversation lulled. People continued to comment on how great he was, and he soaked it all up while drinking down his evening bottle.
Once he was finished gulping down 120 ml of formula and due for a burp, he would have none of it. I decided to do a few dips with him – a technique I learned from Momma J that usually elicits a burp a few minutes afterwards. But there was nothing.
I then tried walking around with him. Just as my friend I were joking about how Baby G might spew on him if I let him hold the little guy, I heard a big belch followed by the dreaded splat. I looked down on the floor behind me to see a huge puddle of regurgitated baby formula.
The party stopped and everyone looked our way. Embarrassed, I put the little guy down and headed to the kitchen for a cloth just as one of the hosts grabbed a napkin to clean up the wet spot. The red napkin, being of the cheaper variety, leaked dye onto the spot causing the hostess to think Baby G had puked up blood with his formula.
Nobody panicked after the dye incident was quickly explained, but I had to get down on my hands and knees to work the stain out with club soda while everyone joked around. A few of the non-parents were also worrying aloud if he was OK.
I assured them he was fine, and he did this all the time. Just as I was saying this, I saw him spit up on the hostess who had picked him up, which made people ask if he was OK again. I told him he would be fine, but I knew they were thinking I had caused all of this by administering the dip technique.
In the end, the little guy was tentatively passed around some more and we left awhile later. He was happy as punch to get home and head to bed, and we laughed it off. I’m just worried about standing on anyone’s carpets after he eats now…