Watch out, they spit

We've already discussed Zachary's raspberrying, which is incidentally now back in vogue after a few days absence. He's also starting to mimic/respond to our own pfft'ing, which is definitely an exciting development - our first 'conversations'. Why do I fear our conversations may eventually degrade back down to this stage in the teenage years? :)

A quick funny story - he and I went to see our favorite Microsoft a cappella group (yes, there actually is more than one) perform last night (at a local library nonetheless, after visiting mommy at her library earlier in the day - Zachary was inadvertently taking a tour of the county's regional libraries!). He was absolutely great, really happy and kicking, and totally quiet and open-mouthed the whole time. Except right after the group announced they were going to be singing their last piece, when he made a loud raspberry that had a few folks around us chuckling.

But no, today, I am going to focus on the other kind of spitting -- spitting up. No matter the time of day, whether he's just eaten five minutes ago or several hours before, we are not safe from spit up. It's ended up in some obvious and less likely places: himself, his clothes, our clothes (his skill at targetting mommy while he himself remains spotless is impressive), the couch, the floor, the changing table, his play mat, the wall, and most recently my hair. You see, I was trying out the whole Zachary-sitting-on-my-shoulders thing, and we were having a great time, and then I saw in the mirror that he had a large smile on his face. Uh-oh. The big smile often means he's feeling great because he's just spit up. I felt my head, and sure enough, I was toweling the stuff out of my hair for seemingly the next few hours. Other parents clearly have experience here; when I asked for advice from a friend in preparing for my first full day alone with Zachary, the friend replied to 'get a towel ready'. I got his e-mail message right after Zachary spit up on my shirt and pants.