Well, the stomach flu has felled three out of five of us so far (PawPaw included). After three days of throwing up Silas finally, finally has stopped and is on the mend. Now we just have to get some food into him.
But one thing he did learn is that when you're going to throw up people will walk around holding you for hours while you whimper, punctuating your whimpers with puking and brief costume changes since two year olds can't quite get the hang of throwing up in something instead of on everything and everybody.
So he's learned to say Po up!
Now, when you've been thrown up on consistently for 48 hours you learn to hustle when the sick one mentions more is on the way. So I would grab Sy and walk around with him, until it passed or he puked.
One thing you must know is that he loves to be carried. I know he is just over two, but he is also just over forty pounds, and carrying forty pounds around, especially forty pounds that doesn't particularly hold on tight to you is painful, to say the least. Imagine me strapping 8 bags of flour to your chest and telling you to wander around like that for an hour or so. But, actually, I wouldn't strap it, because that would make it easier.
Anyway, I think there's a formula.
Weight of baby -directly proportional to - amount baby demands to be carried.
Yes, I know that's not a formula. Seeing as how I didn't even finish my third year of high school math I'm sure y'all aren't surprised.
So, Silas figured out yesterday that if he looked at me with his big, blue eyes and said Po up I would pick him up and carry him around for a long time. Finally, by the late afternoon he hadn't thrown up and I looked at him and asked him if he really just wanted to be held.
Yeeeeeeaaaaaaaah he said, grinning. Up! Peek up!
Just tell me that when he's twelve he won't need me to carry him anymore. My back can't take it.