Dema: "What is my stomach doing to me?" (I think he may have thrown up once before in his four and a half years of life, but if he has he doesn't remember.)
Me: "Honey, it is actually trying to make you feel better."
Dema: "Then it should stop making me fold over."
The poor little guy couldn't keep anything down for most of the day, even water. He was so hungry, I gave him some crackers, a banana, and plain wholewheat pasta over the course of the day. He would be so happy for a while counting the things he was able to eat. "Mom, I can eat four things; water, pasta, crackers, and bananas!" Then he would throw up something which looked like a banana just slightly mushier and immediately after say, "Mom, now I can eat three things; water, pasta, crackers." He decided to spend most of the day naked since he was making more laundry for me by throwing up on his clothes, forever thoughtful my little one. I told him not to worry about it (the mound of laundry is so wide and so high that a couple shorts and shirts is not going to make a difference among on the bedding and towels on which puke has staked it's claim), but I think he felt better naked anyway.
I thought I might be able to get some cleaning done today since we were stuck indoors (Parker was able to trek out to the park and to his neighbor friends' houses), but Dema needed me to hold him most of the time. He requested my lap "without Josie", but that is rare and hard to come by so they both snuggled into me resented the other's presence while at the same time loving and comforting each other. I'm hoping this won't seal Josie's fate to be afflicted with the same ailment. So far, so good. Everyone is sleeping soundly and I'm holding my breath, and a bucket to throw up in, that we are through the worst of it.