Unfortunately last night I was treated to the warm vomit bath not once but twice. My poor little sickie. He was so bummed to wake himself up by puking. He seemed so shocked to find himself covered in rice and breastmilk and mucous.
I ran a bath for him, gave him water and applesauce. Went in my room and threw a towel over the puddle in my bed since I couldn't change my sheets without waking Moomers.
I slept fitfully next to his feverish little body, uncomfortable on top of my bath towel, still smelling faint traces of vomit.
I've already been so tired, now I am just plain wrecked. The house is a mess, I need a shower, laundry is taking over my life, I have bills to pay, and work reports to send in.
This morning I made oatmeal and they are eating in right up, M is on his THIRD bowl, Lee his second. He's still a bit warm but his appetite and mood seem good so it looks like he's on the mend.
I need Mary Poppins here, STAT.