So, Bean seemed to doing better-ish. No fever, and a happy grin on his face. Then this morning he came into our room and was busy building a fort on our bed with his trains while DH showered and Sprout and I dozed nose to nose, and then suddenly he threw up. All. Over. Everything. And, um? I am so not okay with vomit. I know many mothers who say that it's different when it's their kid. But it isn't different for me. Vomit is vomit and it makes me want to vomit. Profound, right?
The only good thing to come from this morning was watching DH gently scoop Bean, shower him, and wrap him in towels. Thank god there are two of us, because the vomit doesn't make him queasy the way it does me, and he was a rock all morning. Gentle, funny, and comforting.
But really? When will the plague pass us by? Enough already.
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On a completely different note, I have begun to bake bread and I am wondering if you have a favorite tried and true bread recipe to share?