Last night, John gathered up a groggy Alex off my lap to take him upstairs to bed when Mount Vesuvius erupted out of Alex's belly covering John in a thick layer of Alex's dinner. I took Alex up to soak him in the tub and left John dry-heaving over the sink in the basement. Once Alex and John were cleaned up, and I had scrubbed the last bit of the regurgitated french fries and chicken nuggets out of the carpet, I threw their soiled clothes along with a soggy Diego Blankie in the wash.
We snuggled Alex into bed with us, even though prior to and even after the vomit-fest he didn't act sick at all. He fell asleep easily and about an hour or so later, I carried him into his own room and settled him into his bed with a replacement blankie. His former favorite pre-Diego rocket ship blankie.
5:00 AM, I heard Alex get out of bed and run into the family room. I got out of bed and went after him to find him sobbing about his "car cake". Car Cake is what he's calling the Cars (the movie) birthday candle he demanded I buy for him yesterday at the store. He immediately broke it in two and carried both pieces around all day. He'd left it somewhere downstairs the night before the puking incedent. I told him it was too late to go find Car Cake and we had to go back to bed. I took him to bed and he proceeded to scream bloody murder about Car Cake being gone and broken. Sob sob, scream, scream "Car cake broken! Car cake gone!" repeat. The Car Cake scream-a-Thorn soon included hysterical cries for Diego Blankie, which was sitting wet in the washer downstairs. He soon got very dramatic about it, saying things like "Diego Blankie Died! Diego Blankie all gone! Diego Blankie Broken! Diego Blankie Boo Boo!" This went on for who knows how long before I decided to go hunt down Bunny, another old favorite from the pre-Diego days. Bunny seemed to do the trick and Alex finally fell asleep.
When we woke up this morning, it was Grump-fest 2007. We immediately went downstairs to find Car Cake and transferred Diego Blankie to the drier. Once Diego Blankie was warm and dry, and Alex wrapped himself up in it like a burrito while watching Go Diego Go, I figured we could finally start our day. I was wrong. Nothing made him happy, he refused to wear clothes, although he insisted on wearing a Cars Pull-up over his regular diaper. I broke out the play dough and made balls for him out of the hot pink dough, which he'd immediately squish and scream at me that "Baseball broken! Touchdown broken!" and demand I reshape them, then immediately squish them again followed by more whining. I made his favorite meal for lunch. Spaghetti and Parmesan cheese. He ate it all, then complained that his hands were messy, then complained that his Cars pull up was dirty. I took the Pull up off and fell to the floor in despair.
It's only noon and I have little hope it will get better. He just came over pointing to a spot on his knee crying "Boo Boo GONE!" having discovered that his skinned knee has healed. It's going to be a very long day.
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