Yesterday my little man was sick. We could see it coming on for a couple of days with a runny nose and tired eyes, but yesterday as we were snuggling in bed he threw up all over me and his new bedding.
So, I put the sheets in the wash, changed clothes, and put him on the couch to lounge and watch Sesame Street. What a nice, lazy day we'll have, I thought! He'll just sleep most of the day and I can read my book (Outlander series; highly recommend)!
Wrong. That was the first of six bouts of sickness, which resulted in a day full of laundry and carpet cleaning. Not to mention that this exhausted, miserable little boy could not sleep unless it was on or next to his mommy with a boob in his mouth, AND that he didn't seem to understand how exhausted and miserable he was! He would fuss and squirm out of my grasp in an effort to lay, but would barely make it out of the room before he came back to me crying to be held again because he had expended all of the limited energy in his tiny body.
I made the bed several times only to have to strip it again a few minutes later. I force-fed Motrin and gripe water to a very uncooperative toddler. I watched about 752 episodes of Sesame Street and will be singing Elmo's World in my head until I die.
So much for my lazy day of reading!
I slept in his bed with him last night to make sure he didn't choke on vomit in his sleep. He didn't. And today he appears to be feeling much better, so maybe NOW I can read? Probably not.
So, I put the sheets in the wash, changed clothes, and put him on the couch to lounge and watch Sesame Street. What a nice, lazy day we'll have, I thought! He'll just sleep most of the day and I can read my book (Outlander series; highly recommend)!
Wrong. That was the first of six bouts of sickness, which resulted in a day full of laundry and carpet cleaning. Not to mention that this exhausted, miserable little boy could not sleep unless it was on or next to his mommy with a boob in his mouth, AND that he didn't seem to understand how exhausted and miserable he was! He would fuss and squirm out of my grasp in an effort to lay, but would barely make it out of the room before he came back to me crying to be held again because he had expended all of the limited energy in his tiny body.
I made the bed several times only to have to strip it again a few minutes later. I force-fed Motrin and gripe water to a very uncooperative toddler. I watched about 752 episodes of Sesame Street and will be singing Elmo's World in my head until I die.
So much for my lazy day of reading!
I slept in his bed with him last night to make sure he didn't choke on vomit in his sleep. He didn't. And today he appears to be feeling much better, so maybe NOW I can read? Probably not.
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