Tonight at bath time, mummy made a pronouncement - "I am done cleaning up vomit, especially from my down duvet and from my bathrobe. There will be no more vomiting in this house." Time will tell whether they will listen or not.
Last night was another eventful one in the finding household. Pk was restless in bed and when Dh woke her up for the next dose of Advil, she YELLED enough to wake the entire town. We got her settled just in time for Baby Bean to start. Poor little guy slept for 10 minute intervals and then cried until 4"30. I finally decided to bring him downstairs to rock in front of the t.v. for a while and just as we reached the bottom of the stairs, the projective vomiting began (I know, this is gross, take it from me, I KNOW). He got me, he got the duvet which I had brought down to cuddle under and he got the carpet. It went on in bouts until 7:30. I was starting to get a bit scared.
Here in Ontario, we have this wonderful thing called "Telehealth". It really is marvelous. You call this number and you get connected to a nurse 24 hours a day. You get asked a lot of ridiculous questions like is the child's head still attached? Are there any foreign bodies protruding? Has he turned blue and stopped breathing for long periods of time? but then, you get good advice. My friend who is a paramedic doesn't like it much because she, along with the rest of the health care profession, feel that Telehealth send too many people to the hospital but as a mother of young children, it's great. You know that they err on the side of caution and if they say you can treat at home, all is well. They also give good advice. I was told to nurse him every 30 minutes to ensure that his little tummy was getting some hydration but wouldn't over fill and that worked like a charm. By 10:30, he was finally willing to sleep and he and I had a marvelous nap for almost 2 hours in the spare room bed (it seemed easier to wash twin bedding that the queen bedding from my room if there was a repeat performance). Dh was able to take care of Pk and I actually got a bit of decent rest.
Before I went to sleep, I got Dh and Pk started on some straw painting. There is a lovely little English store in the next big town that sells all kinds of English, Scottish and Irish treats. Dh is English, as is our dear friend A, so we always have to stop by there to get some treats and Santa does a lot of stocking shopping there. The elderly, fragile woman who runs the place spoils Pk rotten and we never leave the shop without something special - this time, it was a pencil tin with Tinkerbell on it that was filled with mallow treats. I wanted to get Pk to make a thank you card that we can deliver right after Christmas and then I thought that if we got some art going now, we could get the thank you cards ready for after Christmas. Daddy has a lot of patience and he was a great help with her, other than that she kept trying to suck the paint instead of blow and he was getting the teeniest bit frustrated.
Other than that, there wasn't much to report. Everyone except for me and Baby Bean had a nice afternoon nap and then we had to run one errand to pick up the last few gifts. We arrived home and the house looked so wonderfully cosy. I can't capture it in the pictures (despite buying a ridiculously expensive camera a few years ago, I just can't seem to capture some of the colour and light my eye sees - probably my weakness as a photographer). I love the warmth of the white lights and seeing the tree in the window. It is the essence of Christmas to me - that feeling of warmth, of being surrounded by love and having a safe place to come back to always.
I hope you are reveling in the blessings and comfort that is available to us, not just at Christmas but throughout the year.