Homestead Mama out of town, no help on hand, one boob almost out of commission due to some weird occurrence of blocked ducts that I am almost over - THAT is when the boy gets a stomach virus. He woke up at the usual 10 pm-ish for his nursing/snuggle time, then sat up and hurled all over me, the couch, and the carpet. Oy. We cleaned up, laid down some waterproofing on the bed and went to sleep. We were up again at 2, 4, and 6. He had such explosive diarrhea that I had to wash his hair in the tubby. He tolerated all the ministrations and tending very well, clearly out of sorts. All he wanted to do was nurse and snuggle. He was up by 7:30, but Thomas the Tank Engine came on and he watched it with no volume happily while Pequita and I dozed. I called H-Mama in the Adirondacks as soon as it was a decent hour begging her to hurry her work up and come home to spell me. I was pretty sure that more than one puking person at a time would have put me over the edge.
After a lunchtime of only ginger ale ["Spicy soda, Mommy! More spicy soda!"] Monito crashed for nap in the living room, and Pequita soon followed. We slept in the living room because every single stitch of bedding, all my towels, and all my chux pads were soaked with assorted bodily fluids. Also the carpet runner in the master bedroom, but who's counting? So I did laundry while the bairn slept for two hours.After nap they played with the new Playmobil camping set. It was fortuitous that I bought it on the off chance they'd sit still long enough to play with it; Monito had no energy and was happy with it, and Pequita just loves the tiny parts these days. Since she ate only a half of a banana today, I'm pretty sure she's about to fall prey to the bug as well. The house rule is don't encourage them to eat if they seem ambivalent.
By the time Homestead Mama arrived home, Monito was feeling better enough to join in on the mowing extravaganza.
Here's hoping we make it through the night uneventfully.