We've spent the weekend caring for a Pete who was sicker than I've ever seen him. I haven't left the house since I picked up him early from daycare on Friday, where he had already thrown up once.
Is it awful to admit that Saturday held some real pleasures, even in the midst of Pete being sick? He had a temp all day (104 at the peak) and threw up whenever he tried to eat anything. His only demand, really, was that he get to stay downstairs with us, and so we spent most of the day taking turns cuddling with him on the couch while he dozed and slept. We got to doze and sleep, too, which was heavenly. He's not usually very cuddly, so this was a treat of sorts. We watched a lot of basketball, and I read an entire book, which is unheard of in the era of Pete. When he was an infant and spent a lot of time in my arms, I was suffering from awful pains in my hands and wrists (an unusual syndrome that occasionally plagues nursing mothers), so I couldn't hold a book. But yesterday he was so worn out all day that I could read without him noticing. It was kind of great.
The one very strange thing about this whole episode is that he started adding "eeee" to certain words. "No" became "No-eee" and, similarly, "juice" became "ju-eeese." "Pooh" became "Pooh-eee." "No-eee" in his small little sick voice is pretty heart melting.
Today the fever was gone, but the vomiting continued. And the crankiness began. He still wanted to be held, but couldn't get comfortable, so was unhappy most of the day. Having a throwing-up two-year old is so much better than a throwing-up pre-1-year old, though. 1) the all-milk diet of a little one makes for a unique sort of nastiness. 2) two-year-old Pete is great at throwing up into a container, even when he's not happy about throwing up. "No-eee," he says over and over.