Caked in Curdled Milk - Updated!

Despite it being Sunday, the morning began much like any other, with Sumie's iPhone blaring at us to wake up.  Two snoozes later we finally found the motivation to turn off the alarm completely.  Sumie rolled out of bed and started preparing for a day on call at the hospital.  I turned on the bedside lamp and opened my book, hoping for a little quiet reading before the day officially began.

Mimi, however, had woken up with us.  She normally sleeps through our alarms and morning routines, and if she does wake she almost always hits her own snooze button and cat naps at least until Sumie and I have both showered.  This morning, however, Mimi wasn't putting herself back to sleep.  Her whining persisted and so Sumie snuck out of the bedroom to snatch Mimi and bring her back to our bed.  And that's when I heard the following.

Sumie:
"Good morning, Mimiko!"  (Sweetly)
"Mimi.  What's this?"  (Playfully)
"Ohhhhhh.  Oh no."  (Quietly.  Discoveringly.)
"Oh my God."  (Softly.  Beginning to get a sense of the situation.)
"Oh my God."  (Louder.  Understanding sinking in.)
"Ohhhh  my Gahhhhhhd!"  (Louder still.  Abject disbelief.)

Me, from the bedroom:  "What happened?  Did she poop?"

Sumie:  "No.  She threw up.  Everywhere."

Mimi has been a remarkably healthy baby.  She's only had a few colds in her short life and very, very rarely brings back up what she takes in.  It had been at least a year since she'd last spat up in her sleep.  When we found her this morning she seemed OK - no fever and just a little crankiness - but something had definitely disagreed with her tummy. 

Sumie extracted Mimi from her room and started drawing a bath.

"Can you take care of the sheets?"  she asked me.

"On my way."  I strolled sleepily through the hall and entered Mimi's room.  

Now, as a parent, I've dealt with my share of stinky and disgusting substances, but nothing prepared me for what was awaing in Mimi's room.  As I crossed threshold the smell grabbed hold of me.  It assaulted me.  Walking into Mimi's room was like walking into a putrid abandoned dairy.  In August.  Not the most pleasant experience, particularly early on a Sunday morning.  And then there was the bedding.  The sheet, Mimi's PJs, and her blanket were all caked in curdled dairy.  It was like she fell asleep eating cottage cheese and then woke up three weeks later.

But the damage done to the sheets and blanket was nothing compared to what Mimi had inflicted on poor Nyan-nyan, her little orange stuffed kitty and best friend.  I can picture what must have happened quite clearly.  Mimi, feeling ill and insecure due to her upset tummy, had probably cuddled Nyan-nyan tight for a little reassurance.  And that's when her belly's wrath was unleashed.  I have to give that little kitty his due.  He took the full brunt of that onslaught and was still there for Mimi, though a little worse for wear, when we found the mess this morning.  After a quick spin in washer he was feeling a bit better.

By mid-morning Mimi was feeling better as well.  She was still a little weak, a little queasy, but she was keeping down water, was fever free, and was playing happily with her house.

I'm not really sure what caused Mimi's upset stomach - perhaps it was a few too many crackers and a bit too much steak with our friends last night - but the girl does seem to be on the mend.  And having her a bit under the weather this morning hasn't been a burden.  In fact, it's meant more cuddling for me.  I guess, despite the ominous start, the day's turning out rather well after all.

Update! 

Mimi is not 100% yet, but doing much better.  She was quiet most of Sunday, but had regained some of her appetite, and playfulness, by dinner time.  This was good news, because we were having dinner with our friends Hanayo and Juan at their apartment in Nob Hill.

Unfortunately, particularly for Hanayo and Juan's nice white rug, Mimi hadn't quite fully recovered.  Toward the end of dinner, our lively conversation was gently interrupted by a soft little "hwarf," followed by a chunky stream of egg, miso soup, milk, and rice.  A few sniffles and wet rags later, Mimi was feeling chipper again.  She even insisted on more miso soup, which this time she was able to keep down. 

Mimi went right to bed last night, slept well, and woke vomit-free.  Hooray!  But this morning wasn't all smiles and sunshine.  Mimi, perhaps still feeling a bit under the weather, couldn't decide if she wanted to stay in her crib and sleep or come out and play.  Here's the solution she came up with. 

Not the one I'd employ, but it seemed to work for her.  15 minutes later she was up and about.  It's good to see her feeling better. 

Sun, Sand, Surf, and Spew

I've always loved convertibles, but they've played only a minor role in my automotive life.  My 914, which I had for a scant 3 years, was a targa, so at least I could take off the roof.  Not that it was ever really on.  It actually snowed on me in that car.  For me, and pardon the cliche, there's nothing better than an open road in a car with the top down.  And I want to make sure Mimi develops a similar mentality ASAP.  So, when my Mom offered that we take her convertible Volkswagen Eos on a sunny drive up into the Marin headlands, I jumped at the chance.
Heading north across the Golden Gate Bridge we soon found ourselves headed for Mount Tamalpais and Stinson beach.  This meant time on Highway 1, which is, I have to say, God's greatest gift to the automotive enthusiast.  Mimi had fallen asleep, so we kept the top up all the way to the beach.  Upon arriving, on an atypically bright and sunny day, we realized something.  Today wasn't just Mimi's first trip in a convertible, it was her first time at the ocean!

We found a nice spot well removed from the surf and set out our trusty picnic mat.  Mimi, somewhat perplexed by the unstable brown stuff underfoot, stuck to the mat at first.

That brown stuff looked familiar, though, and before too long she'd made the connection.  It was the same stuff she'd dumped all over herself in that cement box in the park in NYC.  "This is sand!" she realized, "I'd better start throwing it at people."  And so she did.  Within two minutes half the picnic mat had been buried. 

A water lover like her father, Mimi was soon drawn to the waves.  With Mama's help she made her way through the unstable and tricky drifts to the cool, damp, and infinitely more stable sand at water's edge.

 The excellent footing gave Mimi newly found confidence and it was all we could do to keep her from racing into the waves.

Her first real wave, though, which came up to her knees, was a bit of a shock.  "Why is this so cold?" she seemed to shriek.  "And what's happening under my feet?  The ground seems to be going away!"  Before long, though, she'd gotten her beach legs and was making the most of it.  She eventually tired Sumie out and we had to send in a substitute.  Grandma was happy to oblige.

We eventually returned to the car, crusty but happy, and put the top down for the drive home.  Mimi loved it.  She can be a bit of a screamer in the car sometimes, but the full view of the amazing scenery was providing a welcome distraction to both baby and parents.  I began to think that maybe I should get a convertible someday, too.  I tend to enjoy driving more when there's no screaming.

But, even with the excellent views out of a convertible, there's no getting around the fact that Highway 1 is a very enjoyable but very twisty road.  The kind of road that brings things up that are better left down.  Five miles in I glanced over at Sumie, who was looking a little green, but hanging in there.  She'd stopped talking, which meant she was feeling a bit nauseous, but could handle it.  Mimi was quiet.  I thought that maybe we'd make it to the main road without incident.  And then, just as I was getting comfortable, came the unmistakable sound of vast quantities of semi-digested milk, juice, and Japanese pretzel sticks being hwarfed violently back into the light of day.

5 minutes later, after changing Mimi's clothes once again and wiping down her unfortunately still rather stinky carseat, Mimi seemed to be in good spirits.  We bundled back into the car and I gingerly made my way down the mountain to the main road without further incident.

Despite the vomit, I'm still quite intrigued about a convertible as a family car.  When the top's down it's far easier to get the kids in and out of car seats.  And we live so close to the beach, amidst such wonderful scenery, that it's virtually criminal to deprive them of an unobstructed view.  It's going to take a lot of research, but I have time.  I have no idea what car we'll eventually get, but I do know that we'll be going back to the beach.  Though Mimi won't be able to say so in words, I'm sure that she'll insist on it.