Eric and I are pretty consistent about the evening bedtime routine. Bath, pajamas, story, snack, prayers, kiss, lights out. Vake goes to sleep and we see him again the next day. He woke up last night crying and we let him work his way back to sleep.
When I went to get him this morning, it was obvious why he was crying last night- his crib was covered in baby sickness. Gross.
So we went downstairs and had some breakfast after a morning bath and throwing everything (and I mean everything, even Raffi) into the washing machine from the crib. Breakfast was fine and we were willing to call it over when raaaagh.
All over my feet. Even more disgusting.
Now, here's something about Eric that I am sure you westcoasters know. (And I preface this by saying that Eric is perhaps the perfect husband.) He cannot stand vomit. It, in fact, makes him vomit. So he had to evacuate and go out and gag on the front porch whilst I held a crying, vomiting child and stood in a pool of vomit.
Alright already. Enough about vomit.
So we took it easy this morning and by afternoon, someone was right as rain again.
So we played upstairs while I did laundry. He loves the washing machine.
And then we helped redecorate the bathroom. I think it is safe to say someone is all better.
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