My son barfs. A lot.
He always has. At 10 months he was already at the Occupational Therapist to be evaluated for a bad gag reflex.
He chokes on everything. He chokes on chicken, he chokes on blueberries...Hell, he's choked on milk! And as he's gotten older, it hasn't gotten better. I'll say to him "Chew, Ben, chew!" and he'll smile at me with a mouth packed with buttered wheel pasta. And he'll giggle. Then he'll choke, and out it comes.
He throws up everywhere. He's thrown up at the market ("Clean Up on aisle 5" was heard shortly thereafter), he's thrown up at school, he's thrown up at Sea World he's thrown up at Nate N' Als's in Beverly Hills. But mostly, he throws up at birthday parties sending nervous mothers clasping their babies and running for the hills.
"Is he sick?" They ask trying to sound like they're not calculating how long their child was exposed to mine.
"No. He just chokes. A lot."
"Oh." They say and smile nonchalantly. But it doesn't go unnoticed that the parent and child keep a "healthy" distance from us for the rest of the party.
He can't help himself. He gets so excited. There are treats galore; goldfish, pretzels, chicken nuggets, grapes and birthday cake. He can't get it all in fast enough. And then there's the running around. Nothing says "puke" like a belly full of cake and a bouncer. Especially for someone who'll barf going over a speed bump.
So we keep working on the chewing and the not over-stuffing his mouth, and the learning to sit still for at least a few minutes after we eat.
But right now, we're off to another birthday party. He's excited. He'll swim, he'll slide, he'll eat cake and he'll stuff handfuls of goldfish into his mouth.
And that's when the party really begins...
Originally published 10/19/10