Barf-fest 2008

The morning after the "peacefully sleeping Dylan" picture was taken in the previous post, Ryan and I woke up at 5am to the sounds of Dylan coughing and crying in his room. Ryan, being the super-husband that he is, got up and went to check on him.

Dylan had thrown up his chinese dinner from the night before. Very unpleasant for all of us. Semi-digested chinese food is my least favorite smell!
So while Ryan (again, super-husband) cleaned up the bedding and started the washer with all the pukey blankets and sheets, I tended to Dylan.

And as I carried him into our bedroom with fresh PJs and a clean diaper, he said to me: "I need a bandaid" in the most pitiful little sicky voice.
I couldn't help but smile. How do you put a bandaid on a tummy-ache?

So I decided him getting to sleep in our bed would be a treat. We all piled in and tried to convince Dylan that even though the sun was rising, that it was STILL NIGHTTIME and we needed to go back to sleep.
Sometime around 5:30, he was puking again. This time in OUR bed.

Round Two.

So again, Ryan tended to the bedding while I took Dylan to the bathtub for a quick washup and fresh clothes. Then we came back to bed, full of fresh sheets. But this time with a bucket next to the bed, fully prepared for more of the same.
And yes, it came in handy when Round Three came along.

Poor little Dylan. I wish a bandaid could have fixed it all for him - way back at 5am.