Sour Milk and the Spit-up King

        The past couple weeks have given us a new all-time record for going through laundry soap. Our container labeled to hold enough soap for 100 loads has disappeared in just under two weeks, which means we have been averaging a lot more loads per day than our usual 2-3. I have been pretty aware of this increase on the days that I have been moving over laundry at 2am just to keep on top of things. Might I just mention that I am super thankful for our 2nd floor laundry room. I can only imagine how much harder it would've been going up and down the stairs at all hours of the night.
         Everyone expects more laundry when a baby arrives. I've had my share of babies that have blowouts, but that's not the problem this time. My son seems to be a sort of spit-up champ. Last night he went through 5 bibs, and 3 burp rags in less than 30 minutes (plus I had to change shirts--twice). At one point yesterday, I was using blankets as burp rags while I waited for a load of cloths and bibs to finish drying. I'm thankful he doesn't seem too bothered by it, but the almost constant smell of sour milk around him makes me want to gag. His little neck and face (and hands) get washed at least twice a day depending on how much he is awake. Being awake seems to equal spitting up for him. I'm thankful that this stage will pass as he matures and adds food to his diet.,
         I've learned a few things from my previous four kids though...like keeping him upright for 15 to 20 minutes after nursing helps him spit up less when I lay him down or letting him nurse on the same side during his fussiest time for an hour or two before switching sides satisfies his need for comfort without overloading his stomach (plus he gets the richer hind milk that he doesn't seem to spit up as much on). Still, I have to admit that it was a little frustrating having him spit-up in my freshly washed hair twice last week when I was headed for a mom's night out.
         We are taking a mini-vacation to Kentucky starting tomorrow; and before committing to go, I had to verify the hotel has laundry faculties. I don't own enough clothes or cloths (or bibs) to guarantee we can make it three days without a washing machine. His spitting up almost made me say no to even going. Then I thought of staying home and all the meals I will feel obliged to make (that probably will be late like every other meal I've made this past week). I thought of the break from my normal routine that I can have, giving me permission to not think about the dust piling up and maybe even enjoy a movie or two with my family.
         Every day we are given a choice whether to trust that God will help us through our challenges or to try to minimize our risks and play it safe. Our son's name means "strong and courageous...", and I'm claiming Joshua 1:9 as a life verse for him (and for this weekend for me). It says, "Have not I commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." This day,  I'm choosing to enjoy it...spit-up and all. I'm packing some soap and the clean clothes I have. I'm not going to sit home crying in frustration over all the work piling up while I wash more things with spit-up on them. After all, there's no use crying over spilled milk.