(This has nothing to do with the post, but pictures make it less boring, right?)
Some of you faithful readers may or may not remember that there is a traditional one-year photo taken of the Kemp family line starting with my dear, old dad. Seeing as though Piper turned one over a month ago (gah!), I really needed to do something about that. I finally decided to bite the bullet and just go to the JC Penney at the First Colony Mall on a friend's recommendation.
The morning of the photo shoot rolled around, and I miraculously was able to pack everything I needed (including my children) and meet my mom at the mall. Thank goodness for teacher summer breaks! Piper and I had gone through a bit of a fever bug a day or so beforehand, but all seemed well. I slipped the bambina into her hand-made dress and proceeded to do the thing that everyone swears they will never do (and hates that they are doing in the midst of actually doing it): sing and say obnoxious things to try and make my baby smile so we can get a dadgum picture and I can cross it off my to-do list already! And yes, I realize my grammar flew out the window already...
I changed Piper into another little casual outfit while Miss Marva used the time to take a few shots of Myla. Myla generally likes having pictures taken of her, but usually shows it by staring stone-faced into the lens and showing no expression whatsoever. I digress. I held Piper and started to walk over to set her down to join in the fun with Myla when Miss Marva said, "Oh, she's throwing up." God bless her catlike reflexes-- she provided me with a handful of paper towels pretty quickly, but this wasn't just some baby spit up. There was vomit cascading out of my child and down my shirt. Puke was holding the two of us together, and it just. wouldn't. quit.
I had taken off my shoes to help leap around with the picture taking, but in a heat-of-the-moment decision, I walked barefoot next door into the family restroom in JC Penney. Praise God my mom was able to stay with Myla. As I hustled to the bathroom, the kid was still spewing. I had to hold her over the sink to finish. THEN, curse that unspoken rule that says you take care of your kids before yourself-- I took off her little outfit and did what anyone would do at that moment-- threw it in the trash can. And what do you do with your clean(er) baby when you are barefoot in a public restroom and have to clean the puke off of yourself? Well, you set her on the floor. In a public restroom. The floor. At least she seemed happier at this point.
I know I typically err on the side of too much information, but y'all: I was scraping regurgitated bananas and pancakes out of my bra. I blame my children for deflating my chest and even allowing for there to be extra room in my bra for barf to slide in, but still! I pretty much had to rinse my entire shirt off in the sink and put it back on again. 357 paper towels later, I headed back to the photo studio in a soaking wet shirt and told my mom, "I need you to go find me a shirt. Any shirt. There must be some American Flag shirt for $5 somewhere in this joint!" That Dottie Kemp, she delivered. She rocks.
You know who else rocks? Miss Marva at JC Penney. She actually stopped and took MORE pictures of my kid because she seemed to feel better and was actually cracking some smiles. She even tried to make me feel better by telling me stories of newborn projectile poop on her studio backdrop. I'll have proof that the pictures don't suck in a few days.
Not that I am ever overly dramatic, I may have mentioned, "This is the worst day of my life." to which Miss Marva replied, "Then girl, you've had some pretty good days!"
I think she's right.
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