So. Remember a few days ago, when I wrote about the flu shots and the success with introducing Tucker to Chicken Alfredo Pizza (complete with onions and mushrooms, don't forget..)?
Well, one of those, or perhaps a combination of the two, led to catastrophic results.
I was sitting at the computer in the loft at our house, editing away on some students' papers. (All of my editing starts at about 10:00pm, and I work until I can't make sense of the words anymore, let alone improve them.) Tuck had this horrendous cough that wouldn't quit, and he was just hacking away in his room. Cough medicine wasn't doing a thing. Poor little guy.
And then suddenly, the coughing sounded very different: he was throwing up.
I will spare you the details of the experience, but I will tell you that it was messy, and it was recurring. We went through all his pajamas, all of his sheets, and we did multiple loads of laundry throughout the night. It was a three-hour endeavor.
My husband was quite the trooper. I only asked for his help the first time around, and he did a great job getting juice for Tucker, carrying soppy sheets to the wash, and standing alongside to offer encouragement in his best nasally voice, plugging his nose to avoid adding to the mess.
Just as Tucker finally settled down around 3 AM (just short of needing to sleep on the floor in our room due to lack of clean bedclothes), Ty woke up an hour later. He was hungry and needy with his own list of wishes and demands. Ugh.
What a night. That was one for the books.