It seems Chez Selzach is not the only bloggy househouse dealing with the intestinal crud. I commiserate with everyone else going through it.
Peanut woke up screaming and crying at 2:30 Sunday morning. Hubby went to check on him. He seemed to take a while and once I heard water running, I knew. Peanut puked in his crib, so I dragged my sleepy butt out of bed and helped with the cleanup. Hubby stripped Peanut down to his diaper, we laid a bathtowel in our bed and put Peanut in bed. He had a few more rounds which luckily were mostly caught be a series of towels. I felt absolutely helpless when it came to Peanut. He would freak out and cry every time he got sick. I'm sure he had no clue what was going on and wanted Daddy to hold him, but Hubby kept aiming him at the towel (he already had taken a direct hit or two). Nothing is worse than seeing your baby cry and know there is nothing you can do to make them feel better. By that point I was wide awake, so I started some laundry and scrubbed Peanut's mattress and the bathroom sink with disinfectant. By late morning he was past the puke phase and well into the exploding butt phase. Hubby has stayed home every day this week so far.
We may be on the road to recovery. Finally! As of about 10 this morning, we hadn't had a butt explosion since before bed last night. We thought things were better Monday night and had the ok to give milk, but that came right back up, so I hope today really is a better day. Please, please let it be over and let us get Peanut off the brat diet and back to a regular routine. I'm keeping fingers and toes crossed that Peanut didn't share the wealth with us. Shiver.