Sorry for the posting drought. And I don't have a book to blame this time. Instead, I'll blame the flu.
Friday afternoon, the Boy woke up from his nap and da Boo proceeded to run into his room to tease him mercilessly. She's such a good sister. So, he's crying and all hysterical by the time I mosey in there. He'd called out to me earlier, saying he had spilled. Not knowing what that meant, I didn't think much of it but when I walked into him room to get him out of his crib, I understood.
"I spilled" is Boy-speak for "I threw up."
And we all know just how good I am at handling that sort of thing! Luckily, it wasn't bad and was quickly cleaned up. Later that evening, I went to a really great bread-making class - which I will have to blog about later - when the Man calls me. Apparently, the Boy had "spilled" again - twice. He wasn't running a temperature, wasn't acting subdued or abnormal. Just spewed his guts periodically.
Saturday, he was fine. He even got mad at his daddy when the Man won't give him a sandwich for lunch, offering instead crackers and Sprite. The Boy came to find me and announced "Daddy no loves me anymore." Sunday morning dawned bright and early (we had a blizzard the day before so it was also very cold). The Man left for his meetings and the Boy woke up. This time, when he announced that he "spilled," I leapt out of bed. I got him cleaned up and tried texting the Man about the problem. This was compounded by the fact that I was supposed to substitute in Primary for da Boo's class. Still no temp or acting sick. I decided he couldn't go to church when his diaper erupted, resulting in yet another load of laundry. We ended up tag-teaming church: the Man got to go to Sacrament and I got to hang out in Primary.
The Man has a touch of it and da Boo is currently sitting on the potty after whining that her tummy hurt. Should make for an interesting evening! Anyone want to place bets on how soon I come down with it?
I had no sooner hit "Post" when da Boo vomited all over herself while sitting on the toilet. So she's crying, I'm trying not to gag and the Man is mocking me. So I made him clean the bathroom while I took a stripped-down girl to our room to shower. She is tucked back in bed with clean jammies, a sippy cup of Sprite and a barf bucket sitting on the floor next to her bed.
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