I ate ice cream last night. It was yummy. My favorite treat: an M&M McFlurry.
The results? A fussy, awake, spitting-up baby. All day. Either eating, crying, or (occasionally and very disrupted) sleeping.
And then, finally, with the help of the bouncer he released a sh*t-ton of gas and poop and suddenly calmed slightly.
Goodbye, ice cream...
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