Fuss has been positively maniacal the past few days, even by his own high standards of lunacy.
Our answer to the question 'why?' arrived in the middle of last night in the form of violent wretching, followed by a forlorn (and now superfluous) "Dada, I don't feel good..."
It's weird the way you acclimate to stuff and then lose it. Last year he was up a couple of times every night and that was normal and we rolled with it- it was no big deal. Now, he wakes up once and I've been a mess all day. Plus, there's no worse feeling than having a child in pain with nothing to be done about it.
Off to the store for some medicine after work, wish us luck.