I despise vomit. I'm a nurse, and there's a lot I can handle. But vomit is not one of those things.
When I came home from work yesterday morning, Finn was awake. So I went up to get him, as usual. I was greeted in the hall outside his room by a strange funk. Though it was a little different, I just thought, 'poopy diaper'. Well, I was right, but oh so wrong at the same time.
I was greeted with a strangely vomit-free child in a crib that... well.... let's just say that it needed to be striped down and sanitized. And yes, he was poopy. All down one of his legs to his foot inside his footy pjs. Ew.
So, into the bath with Finn. Not the way I wanted to end my day, and not the way Chris wanted to start his. Finn's day was okay, but he started throwing up again when I got up for the afternoon. Guess he was saving it for me. Thanks, buddy.
Amazingly, though, the evening wasn't awful. And after a brief stint awake at midnight-ish, we actually slept really well. Even though I checked on him 3 times, Finn still managed to throw up in his bed again at some point. Thankfully, he managed to not get any on him. Again. Magical kid.
He's keeping things down this morning. I thought we were in the clear.
Until Paige threw up, about 10 minutes ago.
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