This morning started with a tummy ache. I knew something wasn't right when the child cuddling in bed with me was Juju. Sleeping in with Mommy and Papi is generally no match for Saturday morning cartoons, and though the TV was on and calling, there he snuggled. I remember thinking just how nice it was to have my middle baby there in the middle of CJ and I,...
and then he started squirming in discomfort. "You're not feeling well, are you, Baby? Does your tummy..." and before I could finish my question, BLEH... the puking began.
Now, normally, I'm quite nurturing; I am a mommy afterall, but my first thought was containment. How do I prevent the rest of the family, especially little Addie, from catching what could be the dreaded stomach bug? Shame on me, I know. If I wouldn't give my child a hug after vomitting, no one would, right? After comforting him and reassuring him that my love was unconditional (meaning "even with chunks in my hair and down my shirt"), I changed our sheets, kicking a very sleepy Papi out of bed and doused the room in Lysol.
CJ and I decided it best for one of us to take the other two kids out for the day, and given the choice, Juju wanted his Papi, so I packed up the baby and Coco and out we went. Coco and I rarely have time to spend together since he started school, and though shopping isn't exactly his idea of a good time, he was happy to get some "mommy time." A Roly Poly lunch and a "treasure hunt" at Hudson's later, I called CJ and he said Juju had eaten several hours before and was feeling 100%. Bullet dodged. Still, we kept all of them from the party they were to attend, and Juju will miss church tomorrow, just as a precaution. Hubby will be homebound again; I have rotation in the nursery.
What started out as a highly questionable day turned into a sigh of relief and some good quality time with the oldest, most neglected son... Thank goodness!
