Yesterday afternoon Mack simply would not calm down. Getting out of the house usually cheers him right up, so around six we decided to take him to H-E-B to get some bread. While we were there, I noticed he wasn't waving at of the other kids or clapping his hands for the little old ladies. Strange. On the way home he threw-up. It was not pretty. For dinner he'd eaten chicken and broccoli, and now our car and laundry room smell like chicken and broccoli vomit. His car seat was absolutely disgusting. As I went to unbuckle him I kept repeating under my breath, "You're the Mom. You're the Mom." I am the Mom. I need to be able to unbuckle my son from his chicken and broccoli vomit soaked car seat! But I couldn't do it (deep breath). I can't tell you how glad I am that Tyler was there. Have I mentioned lately what an amazing husband I snatched? Well, we eventually got Mack undressed and inside (in that order) and into his tub. Then just as we were about to put him down for the night in his fresh PJ's, vomit struck again. Of course it did! The rest of our night followed about the same pattern. Poor little guy can't seem to keep anything down. He just lies in our arms or on the floor and moans. He hasn't been able to stay asleep in his crib, but that's OK. There are basically two times he gets whatever he wants: airplane trips and sick days.