Poor Baby

I'll say one thing about Mikey: he's a valiant little fellow. All through out the night, despite the 103 degree fever and nonstop vomiting, he held on to his role as family leader with tenacious dignity.

At 2:00 in the morning, when it looked like he was going to be sick again:

"No, daddy. No bowl. I'm am done with this fro-up. I don't want it."

At 3:30 in the morning, attempting to give him a suppository to bring down his fever (103!) since he couldn't even keep down sips of water:

"No, mama. No medicine in my bottom. I don't need it and I feel much better."

At 4:30 in the morning, when Mikey decided he needed his space:

"Thank you Mama, but go sleep in your bed now."

His refusal to relinquish his post as supreme ruler carried on through the day, as well.

At 1:30 in the afternoon, as a happy and vocal Nicholas discovered the nuances of a bucket:

"I'm not sick, mama. I can play with Nicholas."

At 1:35 in the afternoon still laying on the couch, after I told him "no" and he realized maybe he didn't feel so great after all:

"Nicholas, please be quiet. I need my rest."

Even when sick he manages to make us chuckle. He still doesn't realize that he missed his first ever Christmas Pageant today. The whole "no concept of time" thing really is coming in handy. I think I'll respond as my friend, Kara, suggested if he asks about it:

"Your pageant is coming, Mikey! Only 12 more months!"

Turns out two other little girls in his class were up all night with the same thing, so as selfish as it sounds, at least I'm not Mikey isn't the only one crushed about missing the performance.

Bah. The performance was probably lame, anyway. All that really matters is that he is healthy.