Typhoid Doodles

The stomach flu has been going around. The day care sent home a notice a week ago saying that it had hit the majority of the kids in the infant room (eight of ten babies) and that we should be watching out for it. A number of our friends have had it, including one baby friend who sadly had to be hospitalized for dehydration from it (he's fine now). So I shouldn't have been that surprised when, on Saturday night in Bretton Woods, Adam called me into the bedroom to see Doodles. He was fast asleep in more vomit than I have ever seen before in my life. It covered the entire bottom of the Pack N Play. Blech. Interestingly, though, Doodles wasn't at all bothered by it. We woke him up to get him out of the vomit, and he was in fine spirits. I breastfed him to make sure he was hydrated and he threw that right up, but with a gigantic grin on his face. By the next morning, he was fine. However, on Monday night, the flu hit our house and hard. Doodles gave me the flu, Adam the flu, and my mother the flu, and at last count, my father was on his way down with it. Little innocent Doodles is Patient Zero in our house and he's been wanting his playtime even though Adam and I are zombies at death's--or at least the bathroom--door. I would take my being sick any day over Doodles being sick, but it's so hard to keep up with an active, healthy baby when all you want to do is sleep and puke. I'm just hoping we don't give it back to him and start the cycle all over again.