Let's talk about puke, baby

I'm baaaaack! Sorry for the long absence I've taken from posting - my best friend and Australian sister was visiting from Melbourne. I pretty much checked out of technology while she was here. But now she's gone and I'm back, SO - Let's talk about puke.

The evolution of baby puke (through my eyes):

• Newborn: When Liam was first born, baby puke was like, "uh - sick." I had a spit-cloth ready at all times to wipe up the warm, creamy nastiness the moment it projectiled out of my baby's mouth. I eventually graduated to draping myself in blankets because a spit-cloth just didn't seem to do the job.
• Two-to-three months old: Eh. The baby puked again. No spit-cloth? No problem. You do have shirt sleeves, right?
• Five+ months: Baby puke has virtually no affect on me anymore, whatsoever. Unless it's someone else's kid... that's another story. But to demonstrate my point, read on for.... 

New Mom Confessions: Baby Puke Edition

I'm a baby-wearer. What is babywearing, you ask? According to Wikipedia.com, "Babywearing is the practice of wearing or carrying a baby in a sling or in another form of carrier... has gained popularity in recent decades, partly under influence of advocates of attachment parenting." Attachment parenting is the idea that if baby feels safe and secure in the early years, baby will grow up to be a more independent child and adult. I babywear because of that, but mostly because I GET TWO FREE HANDS!! 

Moving on. 

Last week, my awesome husband was at work, and I had to get shit done. I usually just wear Liam on my front because it's the easiest way to get him into my carrier, but the downside is I bump him into everything. Try to imagine doing dishes or laundry with a 20 lb kid protruding from your belly. It's like being pregnant all over again only this time your extended midsection squawks if it gets squished between you and the washer. Here are a couple of front-carry pictures to give you the idea. Also of note, my husband is hot. 

You can see the obvious obstacle the front-carry creates. So I decided to attempt the impossible... putting Liam into a back-carry without any help.

I put Liam on the couch.... lined myself up in front of him with the carrier strapped around my waste... bent over super-awkwardly.... pretty much dislocated my arms a few times.... and then... SUCCESS! I had the baby in a back-carry! OH SHIT. Yup. He totally just puked down my back. 

After shouting "Mother-******, you have got to be kidding me!" - I stood there for a second, thinking... and then I just carried on with my day. I had worked too damn hard to get that baby on my back to give a damn about baby puke. I had things to do, gosh darnit, and I was going to do them, even if it meant stinking like stale milk later. And I did. And I liked it. Because not only did it mean that was I now a back-carry ninja, but that I was a true mom and had totally and completely beaten baby-puke. BOOM. 

Also of note, my child likes to eat the carrier.