April 9

Eli spit up on me three separate times today.

I'm not just talking little baby spit up; I'm not a sissy. I could handle that. I'm talking emptied-the-contents-of-his-stomach spit up, all over me.

Three times.

One of those times was in the middle of a meeting with all of my MOPS friends, and since I had no spare clothes, I had to sit in my spit up soaked jeans for an hour and a half before I was finally home and able to change.

As soon as I was in clean clothes, he spit up all over me again.

Just when I thought things were getting better, a day like today happens. I definitely cried and yelled about the darn spit up. It's such a little thing, but so demoralizing. Like, it's not bad enough to be a frumpy stay-at-home-mom with no clothes that fit. No, I also need to smell like spit-up, and have the only clean pants I own puked upon so that I am forced to wear pajama pants instead.

Motherhood is certainly an exercise in humility.

So I hope you'll forgive the fact that this is the only picture I took of Eli today:

The picture really doesn't do the cuteness of the situation justice; Eli fell asleep and his hand was perched right on top of his head. It was pretty funny.

But here's a cute one for you. Last night, I stayed up a bit too late finishing Eli's birth story. When I finally came to bed, I found this:

Chris and Eli, asleep on the bed together. Eli normally does not sleep on his tummy, but he was fussing and fussing and fussing for Chris, so he tried it. 30 seconds later, Eli was sound asleep. After I got over the cute factor, I spent some time being very thankful that I have a husband as capable and competent with our children as Chris is. I am a lucky mama!