A quiet day with a sick boy

Our household has been visited by Dave this weekend. That's D.A.V.E., the Diarrhea And Vomiting Epidemic. I am the only one functional today, so I've been puttering around putting things on shelves and taking care of my angels. Vicki's been in bed all day and London has been napping on the living room floor. At his pediatrician's recommendation, I've been giving him a couple of squirts of Gatorade with a dropper ever half hour. About an hour ago he woke up enough to eat a saltine and have some more Gatorade. As soon as the cracker was gone, he tucked his pacifier back in his mouth and went straight back to sleep.

London has always been good about calming himself down with pacifiers, but when he's sick I guess he think he needs extra ammo. Right now he has one in his mouth and another one in each hand. He's got that pacifier supply problem covered.

I've gotten a lot of good pictures of him sleeping since we moved, and since he's been sleeping all day, this seems like a good time to post them.



This is one from the other night. London put himself to sleep. That's a good day in my book. You can see that he's got a death grip on a little racecar from his first Happy Meal.


Other dads stick their thumbs in pictures. Me, I go for toes.


Here's the little man this afternoon, feeling puny. His godmother, Sarah, made the awesome blanket for him. So far--fingers crossed--he hasn't barfed on it. I had a long talk with London's pediatrician this afternoon. He's not worried. London isn't dehydrated, and I've been making sure he gets enough fluids. He just needs some rest. I'm sure he'll back to terrorizing the household very soon.