Women's Conference and Vomit

My mom, my grandma and I all have birthdays within days of each other and so we have made it a tradition the last five years or so, to do something together in honor of our birthdays. This year, we attended a Women's Health Conference at the Utah Valley Regional Medical Center. We also went last year, so we were excited to go again to get information about women's health, eat good food and hopefully get some cool free stuff. We had to be there early for the good seats and the great breakfast so I had to find someone to watch the boys early. Last minute, my aunt said she would help her 12 year old daughter watch them. I was a bit nervous, but didn't have much of a choice.

So, I dropped off the boys and went to the conference. It was another fun year learning about how to de-stress and how important diet and exercise are and this year, we were even privileged enough to hear about the latest technology in vaginal surgeries. I think we could have done without the video footage, though...pan to my mom and grandma leafing through their binders trying to pretend they were interested in reading the blurbs on the speakers and me watching wide-eyed through my fingers. It was like a car wreck - you just could not look away but it was horrible.

After the conference, I went to pick up the boys. Cameron was running around in his socks, his pajamas still on, slivers all over his fingers from their weathered jungle gym swing set. Bren was inside sleeping and had been for almost three hours. But as soon as he got up from his nap, there was a sudden onset of projectile vomiting...all over my aunt's shirt, all over the bed he was sleeping on, all in my hair and down my shirt and all over my aunt's hardwood floor. She felt badly saying that she had probably overfed him and I left reassuring her but confused at the unusually massive amount of spit-up. We stayed in Orem the rest of the day so that we could hang out for the BYU game later that night and Bren acted fussy and uncomfortable for good reason. He continued to throw-up every ounce of milk I tried to give him and even projected the pedialyte all over my dad's antique green chairs. So, poor witto guy was up every hour last night, probably hungry and definitely hurting. I had to feed him milk and pedialyte with a dropper because he wouldn't drink anything else. He finally stopped vomiting, but he has just been lethargic and refusing to drink anything most of the day. But the whole reason for writing this post is just to show you this adorable picture that I took, about an hour after the initial vomiting at my aunt's house. He reeked so badly of spit-up milk that I put him in my mom's bathroom sink for a bath, not realizing the continuous mess that was about to come and how futile the attempt to clean him up would become.

So cute and happy, despite the circumstances.