Monday, February 12, 2007

And, speaking too soon...

Abby settles down at around 3:45am. By 'settling down', I mean that she has taken longer than 25 minutes between leaps to the bathroom. This actually beat my record. I spent Friday night/Saturday morning sensibly (at least it felt so at the time) on my living room floor, basin at the ready. I was at the time under the impression that if I lay on the floor and held on tight enough, I might not fall. Off the floor. Did I mention that fluctuating electrolytes make you a bit zooey?'s the stomach flu. It's not Ebola.

By 4am or so I fall asleep, feeling healthier than the previous 24hrs and confident that I will tend to Abby gently the next day while keeping an eye (and very sanitized hands) on the toddly Matthew.

Until 7:30am. Matthew gets ill.

I'll spare the details.

Fortunately, nausea appears to be confusing, but not traumatizing to a 16 month old. He does have a lot of energy for 7:30am (he usually sleeps until around 9am), and is running around happily before making odd noises whereupon I grab him and take him to a secure area for such activities. We have lots of clean bedding and sleepers, all of which we will need. Eventually, he gets so dazed that I put him to bed and he stares wide-eyed and almost unblinking at the ceiling, arms above his head, obviously tired but too distracted or wired from the flu to quite sleep. I roll him to his side, and put a favourite, small stuffed lion in his hands. He watches it and moves his lips silently before the lids close slowly.

Then he gets sick again. Eyes still closed. I clean it up and let him sleep.

Okay. This is still lousy.


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