My poor little buddy

Connor got a Notre Dame tee shirt from Grandma and Grandpa...see previous post for cute pic...and he loves it. It alternates with his animal tees for his favorites and I can hardly get him to wear anything else. He wore it last evening and loves to talk about the "epercone" on the front.

He was acting cranky and snooty, turning down tuna casserole for dinner -- odd, since that's an absolute favorite and one of the few ways I can get him to eat peas. He would sip from my juice and a little from his and then was just rather whiny and flinging himself around the table while grandma and I ate. He crawled up finally, took a bite and promptly started gagging. He ended up throwing up on himself, his shirt, his pants, grandma's plate (good thing she was done with it!), and the chair. He just kept crying "uh oh" and trying to get the mess off his beloved shirt.

Then the fun started. He stunk to high heaven so we tried to strip off his clothes and put him in a bath. Poor Barb had to haul him up the stairs kicking and screaming, while he fought to keep the shirt on. I put the baby down in his papasan and ran upstairs to rescue Barb...Connor had managed to escape and was sprinting down the hall with vomit covered clothes hanging half off his body while yelling "No WANT!" at the top of his lungs. Between the two of us we got him stripped and I barricaded myself in the bathroom with a massively distraught naked toddler -- grandma headed back downstairs for a much needed breather and some Timmy cuddles. She also threw the clothes in the washer because Connor only allowed us to take the clothes if we promised he could wear them again tomorrow...they're lying draped over his chair where he can see them first thing in the morning. It took fifteen minutes of level ten tantruming before he would finally consent to stand in the tub and let me sponge him off. Exhausted acceptance was all he could muster by then, but it just wrung my heart to see him so upset about ruining his shirt.

After that all he wanted was cuddling and for mommy to carry him, so I attached him limpet like to my front and got his teeth brushed and a new set of pjs on. He said he felt sick, but after half an hour's rest on the couch he was up and bouncing and chowing on some crackers and rice. He's a little restless in his sleep tonight...I hope it was just one of those random things rather than a true bug because vomiting children followed by vomiting adults is no fun. Thank goodness Barb was here! Charlie was at work until almost 9 for the exercise, and I would have been extremely hard pressed to get Connor up those stairs in that kind of meltdown mode; plus, Timmy started squawking part way through the whole debacle. How do single mothers of many children do it??

Oh and on a completely unrelated note, yesterday was the first time Connor said he loves me completely unprompted! I went to kiss him good night and said, "Love you buddy!" like I do every night and he piped up, "Wuv yoo, mommy!" I dashed back to cover him with kisses and I haven't stopped smiling about it since!