Strawberries the second time around

Last night was a rare night when Mark and I went to bed early, at 11:00 at night I hear something in the boys room but ignore it thinking someone was shuffling around in there.

Not long after I hear the "Maaamaaaaaa" call.  You know when you hear that call someone's sick.  I raced in there afraid of what I'd encounter. 

Charlie groaned that he "throwed up."  As I reached for him to pull him off the top bunk, his little shoulder brushed my mouth. 

Of course that was the shoulder COVERED IN VOMIT! 

Smeared    all     over     my     mouth!!!!

I pinched my lips together and raced him to the bathroom to clean us both up.

I'll admit it.  I scrubbed my mouth THOROUGHLY before tacking his little vomit soaked pjs and getting him cleaned up. 

Of course then I changed all his bedding and got him all nestled back in hoping that was the end of it. 

But he had more. 

I had no idea one little belly could hold so much. 

That was the thought in my head as I was gagging but trying to hide it while he wretched into the toilet.  The poor guy was awesome thank God we raced to the potty in time.

It's my fault.  I let him eat a TON of strawberries and cool whip for dessert.  He blew through his, had seconds, then ate Carl's whole dessert.  It was one of the rare times I wasn't monitoring how much he was eating for dessert.  I decided to let him decided when he was done. 

Oops. 

I guess there's a fine line between monitoring and letting him learn his limit.

Poor baby.

It reminds me of a time I spent the night with my grandma (of the Golden Rule fame) and she let me eat a whole jar of dry roasted peanuts.  It was years- maybe a decade- before I'd touch a dry roasted peanut again.

I wonder if Charlie would eat a strawberry tomorrow...