Why Must There Always Be Puke?

We had a small birthday party for Logan at Carlos’ parents’ house this afternoon. My parents are in town too, so it was just the grandparents and aunt Sonia and uncle Vince (Carlos’ sister and her husband). It’s been so busy trying to get the house ready for sale that we’re putting off a larger party until when he was supposed to be born…mid July.

I was very excited about the whole birthday cake thing. Zander, with all of his eating issues, has never been able to have any of his birthday cakes…he has either outright refused it, or gagged and puked all over the place. And that, my bloggy friends, does not make for a happy birthday. But Logan has been a completely different experience in that department. He has eaten pretty much anything and everything that we’ve put in front of him.

Because of his prematurity, he is behind in some things….like the pincer grasp thing. He tries and tries to pick up his cheerios between his fingers, but after a while he gives up and just grabs them in is fist. More cheerios land on the floor or get stuck to his face than make it to his mouth. But we figured he would have fun playing in it with his hands, and he would eventually eat some. My mother-in-law had a Backyardigans birthday cake made, and I was sure that he would enjoy that!

When cake time came, I figured I would put a tiny crumb of cake in his mouth to start things off. Instead of the expected confused grimace which is always followed by a smile when he tries something new, a stream of pureed green beans and applesauce spewed from my birthday boy’s mouth. Puke was everywhere. I would have expected this from Zander, but not Logan.

After he was cleaned up, he returned to his happy self and went about entertaining aunts, uncle and grandparents alike from the comfort of his booster seat. With my birthday-cake-hopes dashed and , I retreated to the living room…and started to sob.

I’m not sure why this whole birthday cake thing was so important to me. Perhaps I’ve seen too many pictures of happy 1 year olds, 2 year olds, and so on, happily playing with and eating their own birthday cakes. My niece had no problem eating hers. Neither have any of my friends’ or cousins’ babies.

So what gives? Am I doomed to a life of puke-filled birthdays? How much longer will I have to wait for a picture of one of my own sons enjoying a piece of their birthday cakes?

I’m sure I will get over it. I’m sure one day it will all seem like distant memories that don’t matter anymore. But on this day, it was just too overwhelming…and too much to deal with.


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