The last two days, Timothy spent with a severe stomach bug. Apart from the incredible, disgusting mess that a projectile-vomiting toddler can make, I've spent the days strangely still. There were no toys to pick up off the floor eight times a day. There were no toddler tantrums. There was no singing. Only one very sick and lethargic Timothy.
This is how he spent most of yesterday. I brought his Tigger fold-out couch into the living room so he could watch movies and so I could watch him. He and Daddy watched some UFC. Then they fell asleep.
Poor little man-cub! At any rate, he must've slept it off because this morning he woke up and trashed the house before I even made it home from teaching my 6 am Pilates class. Toys were EVERYWHERE. He was bouncing off the walls. And I must admit, I was glad to see it. Sitting in a clean house watching a quiet baby was just creepy. If any of you remind me of this the next time I'm on a tirade about how he wears me to a frazzle, I'll immediately delete this blog and deny that it ever existed!