Things started... questionably. The boys last through the contest performance, which The Wife actually got to watch. They grew quickly restless during the quartets and made random, mad dashes towards the performers. (Including, during our second run-through, a mad dash towards me, which was REALLY not appreciated. It happened last year and still wasn't cute. I'm not pleased about that - not The Wife's fault, but the boys need to be better than that.) After the performance, we have social time and - most importantly - treats of a WIDE variety.
Best part about being director? When everything ends, I'm closest to the cookie table.
While I was socializing and doing some minor playing with the kid, I was called over to The Boy, who had just vomited onto the gym floor - it was a LOT of puke. Granted, not even in the top 50 of puking incidents (big, wide gym floor is easy to clean. Try to clean puke out of a car seat, buckles, and the little creases and crevices), but still pretty unpleasant. The Baby wandered over to me and got puked on (the third set of throwing up The Boy did). The ladies from my chorus helped me clean up, I threw the kids in the car, and The Wife took them home. I followed soon after.
Here's how the rest of my night went:
11:00: everyone is settled in and sleeping. I moved The Boy and Little Bear to their beds.
11:30: I slept.
12:30: The Boy's first diarrhea attack caught him by surprise, demolishing his bed (thankfully on the wet pad that was under the sheets) and pajamas. The Wife and I stripped the bed, threw boy in the tub, cleaned up the floor, steam cleaned it to get the smell out, put a load of diaper-type wash on, got him dressed and night diapered-up, calmed down The Baby, put Little Bear back to sleep, put The Boy back to sleep in our bed. The Wife went downstairs to keep The Baby away from whatever stomach bug The Boy has. Only good part was that the Pirates had just won their game in the 13th inning, so I got to watch highlights of that before settling down.
2:00: Little Bear came in, threw a major fit when I wouldn't let him into bed with us and wouldn't let him downstairs to bother Mom. I sat with him until he calmed down and went back to sleep.
2:30: The Boy went to the potty for the first time by himself.
3:15: The Boy went to the potty for the second time by himself. This time, he didn't put his night diaper back on before climbing back into bed.
4:00: Little Bear came back in the room. Repeat of 1:30.
5:30: The Boy had another attack of the runs, didn't wake up through it.
5:45: I discovered this when I put my hand on the other side of The Boy.
6:00: "Awake" for the day.
Breakfast didn't go well. He had some diluted grape juice and didn't keep it down. After I left for work, he started keeping some fluids down, which means that we're hopeful that we'll be able to avoid an emergency room trip. Rough night, to say the least.
Could be worse, though - this isn't the first time we've been awake with a puking, pooping The Boy, and this is FAR easier than dealing with the puking and pooping that follows chemotherapy and low-count-induced sickness.