A Respite At Last

It seems that the flood gates have finally closed, and not a moment too soon. I don't think I could have taken another moment of being the care-tender for a sick family. I say that now, and I can only hope that it really is over for good.

Last night I sat up with my son until 9:50, because it came back and hit him again, and hard! My mistake, probably, as I should have known better than to give him milk with his dinner.

At one point, he came running into the living room carrying his beloved Winnie the Pooh, lurched, and threw up a small amount onto poor Pooh. Dreading the clean up again, I picked my son up in my arms, and the levee burst! Projectile vomit spewed from him, spraying all over the living room carpet, himself, and my pants. I don't know where it all came from, because his stomach can't possibly be large enough to hold what must have been the three gallons of -- well, you get the picture.

I'm back at work today, and Wife and Son are both spending the day with he mother. I did not want them to be alone today, in case hey were both still sick.

Luckily, I'm off tomorrow, and mommy-to-be has a Doctor appointment. If we get to hear the heartbeat again, I'll try to share it with you here.

Sorry about the crazy rants over the past couple of days. It was my one outlet to help me keep my sanity. If you actually read the blather, thanks for listening. If not, I don't blame you.

By the way, Episode 3 of my online writing experiment Stop The Car! will be available tomorrow at my Story blog. If you haven't read it yet, check it out!

Joe