This morning I awoke to a knock at the door and a voice whimpering (again), "I'm going to get sick." I jolted out of bed, and rushed to the door right in time to receive a drenching of...well, you know. Last night's dinner remnants cascaded down my body and littered the floor. Then the stench of illness jerked me into consciousness and thrust me into "mom mode."
I rushed Connor into the tiled bathroom, and positioned him over the toilet. Then I surveyed the damage. Sigh. Our poor carpet took another beating, and I'm not sure it will recover from this latest blow.
So, at 4:30 a.m., I was scrubbing carpets, bathing Connor and nursing him back to health. When his color began to return, we spread out his sleeping bag on the bathroom floor. He climbed into the bag, and closed his eyes for a bit.
As for me, well, I was definitely awake and counting on diet cokes to get me through the day.