Well, I guess no one cried, but I think my husband was ready to wring his hands.

This morning, Michael woke up at about 5 a.m., ready to eat. Its sort of an unsaid, general rule that my husband feeds Michael when its time for a bottle (we alternate between bottle and breastfeeding, but its all breast milk), so I tried to help by throwing away the dirty diaper, warming the bottle and sort of staying awake as he fed the baby. Michael was nearly done sucking down 4 ounces when he let out a loud fart. Now, it sounded wet, so my husband — before he finished burping Michael — set about changing his diaper, when the baby spit up.

If it had been me? I would have wiped it up and let it go, since Michael was wearing a sleeping gown over a onesie. But my husband wanted to change him into a new sleeping gown, so he began wrestling him out of the dirty one and into a new one. Finally, Michael was in the new sleeping gown, and we laid him down on the bed — on my side, since the bassinet is on my side — to put him in one of his Kiddopotamus swaddlers. Michael doesn’t seem to sleep well on his back unless he is literally tied down, so we usually swaddle him tight.

Michael was on his back, tightly swaddled when he spit up again. And not just a bit — he spit up what looked like a good ounce, all over his swaddle and on my side of the bed. We had to throw the swaddle in his hamper and just put him in a receiving blanket, which of course Michael broke out of easily. I ended up having to sleep on top of a towel because of the wet spot on my side of the bed, since, who wants to change the sheets at 6 a.m.?

It was a long morning.