Last night, we tried to watch "The Ugly Truth" in bed. Around 11:00pm, I heard Moose start crying. Not really unusual for him to wake up sometimes. I walk to his room, expecting a foot stuck in the slats again or just a bad dream cry.
It was not a pretty sight when I got in there. He was sick. All over the crib/floor sick. I scoop all 45 pounds of him and carry him to the bathroom. I lean him over the toilet. He's just crying. Wants to be picked up.
We get him cleaned up in the tub and I take his temperature. 95.7. Weird. We take him into bed with us and about a half an hour later, he's at it again. He only gets our comforter so I toss that over the stairs to downstairs while Big A cleans the boy off in the tub.
We do this for a few hours. I call our hospital and the nurse who held my leg while I birthed Moose said it sounds like a bug. So I send Big A out for liquids: Pedialyte, 7Up, or Gatorade. He brings back 2 cans of 7Up (which Moose has NEVER tasted before or any other pop for that matter). I don't think he is a fan of it; probably burns his throat.
Throughout the night it's like this until he just runs out of food in his tummy. Then it's just gagging (sorry for those with weak tummies) and wanting held. I sleep in his chair with him, then Big A sleeps on the floor with him. We have a bowl in there. We take him to the potty to "spit it out." Altogether it's probably 7 or 8 times, poor baby.
I finally get Moose to sleep in his own crib without getting sick for awhile. His temperature is now 99.7 so we stick some Tylenol down his throat (not literally, just saying). I go back to my room....
and I smell it. Big A is going to be sick, too. It's just a fart but I know that smell. It only comes around every few years but it's not pretty when it comes.
This morning, Big A hands me Squirt and heads out to work (well, he has the day off of his "real" job so he was going to help our friend in his store). I hear Moose talking to himself around 7, so I lay the baby down and go get Moose ready for the day. He gets sick again (or tries to?).
I get everyone dressed and changed. I pull out a Pedialyte popsicle for Moose and a bottle for Squirt. We sit on the couch and I call Big A as I feed the boys (I don't trust Moose with a popsicle by himself yet; he would eat the entire thing in one bite - or try to).
Big A says he's coming home. He's not feeling well. He stopped for Gatorade, Pedialyte, and more 7Up. After a stop in the bathroom, he's resting in our room.
Pray the baby doesn't get sick...or me. If you can slip my boys in that prayer, too, that'd be nice of you. Hope you're feeling well today.