It's my baby's first Christmas and I should be excited, right? Happy, joyful, overcome with emotion, right?. Right now Ross, Elliott and I are supposed to be spending Christmas Eve with his parents, grandparents, and Uncles family. Where are we? Camped out at home, in the dark, watching football.
It's almost 7pm and this is the first time I've sat up today or really even had my eyes open. I woke up 12 hours ago not feeling well. Initially, I chalked it up to "trying to get regular" after traveling and a week of overeating. I often undergo full system shutdown's when I travel and it usually takes me a week to get back on track.
By 10 am I knew that the alien inside my stomach wasn't normal and that I was in for trouble. I moaned and wailed and carried on - when I wasn't asleep or writhing in pain in bed. I called my mom for sympathy, and made Ross do everything - laundry, grocery store, cleaning up the house, taking care of the baby.
Around 1 pm, things got a little rough. I was pacing the house trying to inspire the bug in my stomach to get out and Ross was holding a grumpy, "somethings off" baby in his room. As I was running upstairs to puke my brains out, Ross came to tell me that Elliott had done the same, all over both of them. Once I was done talking to the porcelain God and had regained my composure, I tried to assess the damage to my baby and his dad. It was rough.
Elliott puked buckets on his dad twice today. I just feel terrible but am glad it wasn't on me or we would have had a heck of a problem on our hands.
Our first Christmas Eve as a little family will go down on the record books - missed parties, no good food (only jell-o for me), lots of wardrobe changes, and some quality time with the toilet.
I can't wait to see what tomorrow brings.
3 comments:
I'm sorry Annie
Feliz Navidad
Let me know if I can bring you some soup. So sorry it's also being sick and having a sick baby on top of that.
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