... and you know what that means, don't you? Yes! That's right! The kids will get sick! This time, it starts with Patrick!

After spending a few hours finishing the window treatments for our bedroom (so that Tom and I can put them up this weekend), Tom and I had just settled in bed for a nice sleep. We were both exhausted, and I had planned to swim this morning with my friend Emily, and he was headed off to Orange County, so we were looking forward to dropping off to sleep like a cement-booted gangster in the East River.

We had both just dozed off when we heard crying. Loud crying. Sad crying. We got up and ran into Patrick’s room, only to find him covered with the remnants of not only his dinner, but his lunch, too. He was still coughing and gagging, so Tom brought him into the bathroom while I changed his sheets. We both figured that he had eaten a bunch of Emma’s candy (from her TWO birthday parties this weekend), and that he just had an upset stomach. He said he was okay, so we changed his clothes and then he climbed into bed and went back to sleep.

About an hour later, we heard it again. We went back into Patrick’s room, and found him once again covered with puke. This time, he didn’t have quite as much in his stomach, and got it on the comforter and blanket, but saved his sheets. This was good, since we only seem to own two sets of twin sheets, and would have had a problem if he had ruined the second set. We brought him to the bathroom and changed his clothes again, and he went back to sleep.

Another two hours passed, and he was up again. This time, the poor kid was just dry heaving. He had nothing in his stomach to let out. Dry heaving is awful because it’s painful on the ribs and tummy. He just kept standing over the toilet, heaving away. After about 5 minutes of this, he headed back to bed again.

At this point, Tom wanted me to let him come to bed with us. I said that I would sleep with Patrick in his room, instead. I have a silk duvet cover, for goodness’ sake, and the last thing I wanted was regurgitated chicken nuggets all over it. That may make me a horrible mother, but have you ever tried to clean vomit off of Duponi silk? Yeah. Well, then.

After a few minutes of squishing my big baby-filled belly into Patrick’s twin bed, I finally gave up and went back to my own bed. I am simply far too old for this.

I finally wised up at around 6:30 (when I knew that there was nothing in the poor kid’s stomach to come back up and ruin my duvet), and let him lay in our bed. I wanted to make sure I got a chance to take a shower before Tom left, because I didn’t want to leave Patrick all alone in the bed while I showered if he was still feeling bad. So, I turned on SpongeBob Squarepants and got myself ready for the day.

At about 8:00, Patrick was ready to try to eat breakfast. He begged for milk, but I would only give him water because I didn’t want to upset his stomach anymore. He ate about half of his Eggo Cinnamon Toast waffle and went to lay down on the couch. It’s now 12:31 PM, and he’s been there all day. I did get him dressed (because he wanted to get dressed), but other than that, the poor kid has lain like a slug all day, waiting to feel better.

All morning, I have been working on laundry. I had to wash two sets of sheets (well, three, because Gracie wet her bed last night), a mattress cover, a comforter, two pillows and a blanket. It took me five loads. I’ve finally got the last bit in the dryer, and then I am off to make Patrick’s bed so that the poor kid can nap.

A few minutes ago, I decided to take his temperature because he felt warm. It was 101.5, which is cue to give him some Motrin. Of course, we were out of chewable Motrin, so he got Tylenol, instead. I think Tylenol works fine, it just doesn’t work for as long as Motrin, so I’ll be giving him another Tylenol at 4:30. Fun, fun, fun!

Of course, as Tom headed out the door this morning, he said “I don’t know if it’s psychosomatic, but my stomach is really upset.” Oh dear. I hope the flight attendants don’t mind him puking all over the airplane seats.