The picture above is just to prove how we've started to tame the beast. In just a few short weeks Jacob has gone from a screaming madman when he spies the bath to a sedate bather, happy to dwell in warm water, occasionally stretching a toe out towards the tap.
But this post isn't about Jacob. This post is about what happened with Mason this morning. It was the 2pm feed - I had Jacob and Ann was looking after Mason. Both took to their bottles with gusto and started to slurp down the milky goodness. Ann was having some trouble burping Mason, but we continued with the feed, under the impression that she'd let us know when she needed to burp. She'd almost finished her bottle when she let us know. After a little tap on her back we heard a rumbling, a sharp intake of breath from Mason and then the stomach floodgates opened. The formula she was drinking had mixed with the breastmilk she had for breakfast and the mucus from her cold to produce a perfect storm of vomit. While not projectile in nature it's the closest we've come so far.
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