When you arrived on our doorstep in time for my birthday celebration, i knew you were overdue, grimaced and bore it. You dallied between coughs and sleeplessness and aches and sore tummies. You gave us days of reprieve where things seemed to be improving only to throw us back on the mat after one bad night. It's honestly been two and a half weeks of slowly slowly fighting our way back to normal with not an inch gained. Just in time for the busiest time of year. How many plans will I end up canceling over the next few weeks?
The babe threw up all day today, on the rug on the couch on himself on the bed on mom on our clothes. And then he blew out his diaper dripping liquid poo all over the same rug (thank goodness we haven't cleaned it recently!) All the more incentive for a massive cleaning after this is over... A hot mess of arms and legs slept fitfully on my chest all day. We watched obscene amounts of television (thank you Netflix) and tried getting liquids into him bit by bit. The vomitfest required three loads of laundry today. Oh joyous day. At least he slept, at least we cuddled and cared for him as best we could, at least when dad called from work he listened and talked more than ever before, at least when putting him to sleep, bare chest to bare chest, I felt him squirming and prepared for another puke only to be surprised by a sleeping laughing babe, pure laughter falling from tired lips dreaming of happy days. At least he sleeps knowing mama watches and a whimper brings me to his side. I love you my babe.
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