Wow- I can't believe that I have an opportunity to post! It has been quite crazy for the past few days.
Friday night, my husband and I embarked on a date night, which doesn't happen very often as of late due to work, the baby and other responsibilities. Needless to say, when my parents offered to babysit, we jumped at the opportunity.
The night was fresh and cold- and our breath curled in ribbons before fading into the air. We mittened and gloved our hands and I was happy to find a safe haven from the cold in our car.
We had dinner at a little restaurant called Positive Pie- (gourmet pizza and other Italian dishes) and then went to the independent movie theatre to see The King's Speech- and it was the best movie I've seen in a long time. I'm sure that much of that can be attributed to Colin Firth's acting. Anyway, glorious time, and wonderful conversation.
In fact, the night relaxed me so much that when I finally rested my head on my pillow, I didn't even think about work- and I melted into a deep sleep.
Until 2:30 AM.
You see, the baby's crib is right across from our bed in the basement. I heard a horrible gagging sound and bolted upright because I thought that Joseph was choking. I stumbled in my robe and flicked on the light, to find the little guy covered in vomit. His hair, face, pajamas and all of his bedding- and it wasn't over.
It sprayed in an arc as we picked him up. It was EVERYWHERE. And I'm not kidding when I say I found entire hot dog pennies in the mess.
My husband started stripping his crib while I trudged up the basement stairs with Joseph on my hip and brought him to the bathroom to run his water. And when the water was ready, he stood in the tub, trembling because he was so cold. His cheeks, which usually glow bright pink, were colorless.
When my husband had finished with the bedding, he came up to help me scrub Joseph, and while he brought him downstairs I marched in to my parents' room to ask what on earth they had fed him. The culprits? Hot dogs. Pepperoni. Applesauce and two bottles.
Great.
My husband (referred to after this as Superman) tried to lull Joseph back to sleep. And almost immediately after Joseph's eyes fluttered closed, they shot open again and he became sick...all over the Man of Steel.
So I told Superman (who is a model of patience and perseverance) to go clean himself off, and I took my turn with poor Joseph. We switched of like this until about 5AM.
Then, at 7:00 AM my hero woke up with Joseph again. We had figured that all of this was due to the atrocious combination of food he had eaten the night before- and so Superman thought Joseph had made it through, and was trying to let me sleep.
Until Joseph not only got sick, but forged a diaper so deadly that it almost crawled away on its own.
That's when I called the doctor, and we packed ourselves in the car. As always, Superman looked amazing, but Joseph and I looked like we hadn't slept in weeks, and my hair was messily clipped up and my face wasn't even washed. But at that point, i didn't care. We felt so badly for Joseph- and I had never seen him so sick.
After poking and prodding the little guy (who quite obviously did NOT feel like being poked and prodded) the doctor surmised that he had contracted a 24 hour stomach virus. A 24 hour EXTREMELY contagious stomach virus.
But, I think we're in the clear. Joseph started to get color back in his cheeks yesterday evening, and I think my husband and I will be fine (as well as the rest of the house.)
This past weekend, I was just amazed at my husband's charm and his virtues. From the lovely date night we had where we held hands and had great conversation, to the dark trenches later that night where he didn't even complain when he wiping vomit off of his own face. What an amazing, amazing man.
And, of course, I'm so relieved that my little cuddle bug is feeling better- there's nothing worse than watching your child be miserable and not being able to do anything for him other than hold him. I'm so glad that he's on the mend!
God is so good to us.
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