The Maestro

When Jon and I first found out that we were expecting, I was filled with all sorts of worries and doubts. Would our child be cute? Would our child be smart? Would our child carry on our worst genetic traits?

After 6 months with my little guy, I can safely answer 'yes' on all accounts. JD is the cutest, brightest little rugrat in our house. But he also inherited one of my hidden traits.

It is often a topic of discussion in my family at holiday dinners, vacations and family gatherings. I had a hidden talent of sorts as a baby that I have now passed along to my child. Master (or Mistress in my case) of Spit Up.

We discovered this talent a few months back and he has just been perfecting the art ever since. Since JD is practically a carbon copy of my husband, I guess this is one thing that ensures that I am indeed his mother. As a baby, apparently I was good at sharing a meal with everyone around me (literally).

He knows just when it is perfect timing for a spit up (right before we are about to leave and we are dressed in nice clothing) and he is an equal-opportunity spitter (no one is off-limits). He can aim it just right (so it hits you right in the lap or in the mouth, depending on how he is turning). He knows the best amount (at least 2 ounces so you have to change your entire outfit).

Sunday night was his finest performance yet. His daddy was lovingly feeding him his dinnertime bottle and dutifully burping him afterward. JD produced a weak burp of sorts and then erupted. He managed to get a perfect 10 on aim (all over dad's lap and the couch) and amount (at least half of the bottle came out).

The best part is that he gets the proudest smile on his face - the "look what I just did" expression that is priceless. You can't help but laugh and get some paper towels to clean up the mess.

I am so proud that my son has carried on this torch for me.