Liam and I continue to work through our stomach bug. He slept for a few hours on me. I checked his temperature to see if his fever was breaking. 101.5. No dice. It was time to try a little Infant's Tylenol. I no sooner emptied the dropped into his mouth when he decided it was go time. His dry heave scared the dog, who ran off. Liam decided to follow. All I could do was helplessly watch the dog get chased by a vomiting child. After cleaning the living room, kitchen floor, hallway, and changing my clothes, I realised the dog needed a bath. While giving the dog a bath, I decided to call Mike in hopes that he would help me find humor in all of this so I wouldn't cry. Sure enough, as soon as the words came out, I was giggling. While washing Jake, Liam came in, eating the rectal thermometer. (I had forgotten all about in my mad dash to clean the vomit fountain.)
As soon as I got Jake out of the tub, I threw up again. I am now in the process of feeding Liam a few goldfish and a sip of Pedialyte every ten minutes. I am also trying to to ridiculous amounts of laundry as every linen in our house has been soiled in the last 24 hours. Liam was out of lightweight PJs and every one of his "lovies" was also dirty (bunny, duck, monkey, etc). Liam is finally letting me put him down. I haven't slept more than two hours straight in two days. Kristy offered to come over after work and let Liam sleep on her so I could get stuff done. I know she thinks she is helping but really? Really?
I know someday I will genuinely laugh about this. Today is not that day.