It was your normal Monday-before-Session until about 3:30 that afternoon. My phone rang and on it appeared a phone number that to me seemed like it was from the boys' school. Because I had sent in some paperwork for the boys' teachers to fill out, I thought it was possibly Davis's teacher calling to talk to me about that. Alas, the phone call was about Davis, but it wasn't his teacher calling. It was the school secretary. And Davis was in the nurse's office, sick. He'd gotten sick all over the place she told me. After expressing her distaste with the fact that I wasn't a mere 3 minutes away awaiting her phone call, I hung up, went over some things with my assistant, and ran out the door. My baby was sick.
And the worst part about Davis being sick with the throw ups is that Davis is NEVER sick with the throw ups. This is a trait he has inherited from his father. Andrew inherited my quick-to-gag reflex. I am a BIG thrower-upper. Andrew too. There have been times when the two of us have been home together sick with the throw ups. But not Davis. In his 5 years of life, I think this may be his second time with the throw ups.
By the time Andrew was 5, he knew the drill with the throw ups. He knew that you either made a mad dash to the bathroom or you stuck your head in the bucket. Davis? Hmm ... we still have some work to do on that. He understands he should get sick in the toilet, but he isn't so sure about the timing of everything. He thinks - because his belly hurts - that he should just sit by the toilet and await the throw up. I think the timing of the whole thing is just a bit confusing. And he hates having an upset stomach. He simply wants to feel better. And to eat.
He's the cutest thing ever. I wanted to comfort him and hold him and make him feel better. This is what I do with Andrew when he isn't feeling that great. But Davis would rather just be left alone Sitting by the toilet. Waiting for the throw up to rear its ugly head.
I hate that.
By the time Andrew was 5, he knew the drill with the throw ups. He knew that you either made a mad dash to the bathroom or you stuck your head in the bucket. Davis? Hmm ... we still have some work to do on that. He understands he should get sick in the toilet, but he isn't so sure about the timing of everything. He thinks - because his belly hurts - that he should just sit by the toilet and await the throw up. I think the timing of the whole thing is just a bit confusing. And he hates having an upset stomach. He simply wants to feel better. And to eat.
He's the cutest thing ever. I wanted to comfort him and hold him and make him feel better. This is what I do with Andrew when he isn't feeling that great. But Davis would rather just be left alone Sitting by the toilet. Waiting for the throw up to rear its ugly head.
I hate that.