Peering between the Kleenex and the empty juice box

...there he is, the dude who has never taken an interest in TV in his life, watching his third back-to-back episode of Elmo on the Treehouse channel. Liam was miserably sick today, waking up late, not wanting to get out of bed, have his diaper changed, get dressed, have anything to eat or drink for breakfast... he just wanted to curl up on the couch with his head in my lap, and cried if I got up to get something. I felt terrible leaving the house for a couple of hours to run into work and fire off some last emails/clean out my desk, but when Grampa Bruce showed up on babysitting duty, he regained some of his normal cheerful self. We spent most of the afternoon sprawled on the couch watching Treehouse. He alternated between wanting to play and just wanting to lounge, and I have felt progressively worse all day, so lounging sounded good to me. As of bedtime he was pretty much back to normal. I now have the daunting task ahead of me of weaning him off a diet that consists entirely of juice boxes, yogurt cups and berries (yes, we have been bribing him with his favourite foods in an effort to get something, ANYTHING into him) while I sink further into the sickness mire myself.

I'm hoping that we are both feeling decent tomorrow, and that it's a nice day. We could both use some fresh air, and I don't know about him, but I could use some exercise. I have some errands to run, and I'm hoping that I can celebrate my first full day out of the office by doing it leisurely and on foot.