Brady started complaining around 4 am that his stomach hurt. Coincidentally, Jackson woke up a few minutes later, so both boys were in my bed (the guy that was actually supposed to be sharing my bed was travelling). Brady's complaining increased, so we went and sat by the toilet together. He threw up just a few months ago, so I was hoping he'd have a good sense of when he needed to puke and where it needed to go. Well, at one point, he needed a hug from his mommy. At that same point, he emptied the contents of his stomach. On me, on the wall, on the floor. We were near the toilet, at least.
After cleaning up, we got back in bed around 4:45. Brady slept restlessly, and I had a feeling we weren't done for the night. He kept asking me if we could go read books. Last time he puked, I brought books in the bathroom, so I guess he was hoping for a repeat. At this point, Jackson also was restless and was trying to burrow into my body, a patent move. When Brady started complaining about his stomach again, I rolled Jackson off of me and hurried Brady to the bathroom. He made it in this time (just in time), and while Brady was hugging the porcelain god, I heard the patter of little footsteps. Jackson joined the party and seemed fascinated by what was transpiring. The cutest moment (which was right behind..... ok this was the only cute moment) was when Brady picked up his head, he looked at Jackson and said, "Mom! Look!" while pointing at his brother.
We got back in the bed before 6 and though we all did go back to sleep, the sun came up too quickly Friday morning. I was very ready for Eric to return on Saturday. I'm not sure why the three days were so tough on my mental state. I think it was the combination of me feeling run down, the boys being sick, and mentally thinking that the end of basketball season would be the end of single parenthood.
This bug manifested itself in terrible diarrhea for both kids, Jackson in particular. Not to go into too much detail, but on Easter Sunday, Jackson pooped 8 times, though I don't think it can qualify as poop, since it was pure liquid. Apparently, I hadn't reached my sick quota for the week, so Eric did the single parent thing Sunday afternoon. Our Easter steaks had to be put on hold, and my Easter feast consisted of a few saltines and a handful of Cheerios.
But things are looking up! And we still managed a cute pre-church picture on the porch.
And speaking of questionable mental states, I'm watching the national championship game with Eric at the moment. Its tied at halftime. I'm afraid that if Duke wins, Eric might follow Brady's lead and expel his dinner. Because I love a happy husband and a peaceful house.... GO WISCONSIN!
Edited: Within an hour of writing, Brady woke up running a fever (although his first words when he saw the game on TV was, "Who are we cheering for?" and then, of course, Duke won. So I may need to scale back my optimism.
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