First, we survived. You should know that. Sam started throwing up on Friday, I started on Saturday, and Rob spaced it out to Sunday night. Needless to say, we had a wonderful weekend.
I spent all of Saturday in bed, sleeping, puking, and sleeping some more. Rob coaxed me out of bed at 6:30 p.m. with, “Honey, why don’t you come downstairs for a change of scenery? Oh, and “Elf” is going to be on. We can all watch that.” So I came down. Reluctantly. Last night, Sam’s stomach rebelled and tossed up all the food he ate that day. Both Rob and I marveled at how quickly you can push down your own sick feelings to help your sick child. Sam and I slept in the guest room last night so Rob, the freshest sickie, could have some space to do his thing. We were eating bunny crackers at 4:00 this morning. Sam was trying to convince me to read books. I was trying to convince him that wasn’t a good idea. I won. We finally went to sleep, curled up together, a small hand on my cheek, and slept until 10:00 this morning.
All in all, an amazing weekend. And not that good kind of amazing. The I-can’t-believe-we-survived kind. 🙂