It may be St. Patrick's Day, but the only green we got is the nauseating variety. Poor Peanut has a stomach virus. She had three baths and three jammies changes between 6:30 and 8:30 am. Aaron has been on puke patrol all day because I am a complete and utter wuss (and this really is an understatement folks) when it comes to that. I had the honor of most of the diapers, because as our pediatrician pointed out this morning, this tummy virus will attack on both ends. Oh the joy!
So we are holding our breath that things go back to normal tomorrow and no else gets sick, every day we have a pukey kid is a day Aaron misses from work to help me. Yes I won the husband lottery. He does take care of all things pukey a gross while I give baths. I realize it is a completely uneven trade off, which is why he is drinking a beer and playing X-box instead of drinking a beer and watching our tivo'd episode of The Soup. It is a fair trade off.
On a different, much cuter note, we got to see baby Sydney yesterday (which also means we exposed her to our germs. Damn.) and Monkey got to give her a bottle. Aunt Kate brought it especially for him to feed her, knowing that giving babies their bottles is one of his very favorite things to do. Underneath her is the little blankie that I crocheted for her (and naturally forgot to photograph). Monkey was the only kid at the birthday party who go to hold the baby, which he loved.
Poor peanut was so disappointed not to get to hold her or touch her, but in retrospect was providential that she didn't. Of course that didn't stop her from breathing on her or occasionally touching her head when she thought no one was looking.
Look at him, he just cannot wait to have a baby in the house again!