Today, everyone seemed to be better–for awhile. Mama was up and out in the living room, even if she wasn’t eating much. She did manage a slice of toast and some coffee, and was able to stay awake through a conversation, which was a huge improvement.
3B ate a good breakfast while Mama walked Barky, although he did complain that something felt like it was “cutting” his stomach. So, he was eating and full of energy, but he had a stomach ache, I suppose. 3B went on to eat a normal lunch, and then as we were putting him to bed, he had a little bit of milk and listened to a story, then sat bolt upright and vomited up a stream of lunch. After his first heave, he got this sad look on his cute mug, and turned to his favorite parent for comforting, and disgorged the rest of his lunch across Mama’s lap.
Sometimes it’s nice to not be the favorite parent, especially when it comes to partially digested tofu pup, avocado, and sweet potatoes.
We again got 3B cleaned and changed in record time and put him down for his nap, despite his post-puke burst of energy. Mama and I then lay down to get some rest, but 3B kept waking up and calling out for us, and I kept worrying about what it could be, because lord knows, it couldn’t be just a stomach bug–no, no, I was sure it was appendicitis. Except he was pooping just fine.
And that made me think about the first time he puked, at all of two weeks or so old. Mama and I did a little freak out dance–take his temperature? where should we take it? are you serious? how high is too high? what if it’s too low? what if it’s the flu? is he getting dehydrated? what do the books say–and can you describe the vomit, please? call the doctor! call the nurse! call the lady with the alligator purse!
Meanwhile, today the kid horks out a gallon of bile across his futon and we have him cleaned up and tucked in and are down for our own nap within ten minutes. We’ll call the doctor if his head starts spinning around, but otherwise we need some shuteye.
Anyway, I ended up sleeping just long enough to wake up with a head full of tar and cranky. The cranky wasn’t helping matters, and besides, there was too much to do, like feed 3B his second lunch, which Mama did, and watch the kid, which we sort of did. He did still manage to crease his face pretty well in the kitchen however.
See, we keep the stools overturned so Barky won’t use them to get up on the counters–no, I’m not kidding–so 3B was crawling around, put his hand on one side of the stool, and it flipped up right into the bridge of his nose. Mama said 3B didn’t even peep when it happened.
I’m not as tough as the toddler, however–when he cracked my forehead with the bread hook from the mixer as I was lying on the couch, I sat bolt upright and yelled. Which caused 3B to yell. I didn’t mean to upset him; it was just instinct when I heard, and felt, something clang on my skull above my eye. If I had assembled the pantries, the mixer wouldn’t be out for Captain Hook to be playing with, so it’s my fault in a way.
We did manage another round at the playground and dog park this evening, and Mama was even feeling good enough to accompany us, her two scarfaces. When we got home, however, she had to go lay down again, so it just us scarfaces at dinner. Mama did get up again and bathe 3B, although she tucked right into bed to watch the Muppet Movie–thanks Kangamoo, for that treat–and Mama’s now sleeping peacefully.
I’m up folding the formerly puke-sodden laundry, picking up toys, and wondering how much I should worry that our upstairs neighbor called down to report that her new stove has no gas. Given the weekend so far, what could possibly go wrong with a gas leak?
However, if her kitchen blows up, maybe we can put in that skylight in our living room. Plus, if our condo does blow up, I’d have an unimpeachable excuse to not put those pantries together–no way to do it if I can’t find that little flippin’ allen wrench in all the rubble, right? And, if I’m blown to kingdom come, I won’t get this puking bug.
So, tomorrow may be even better than today.
Or, I may spend all night awake, worried that 3B’s room is filling with natural gas, obsessively checking the video monitor to see if he’s moved, or if I can hear him breathing.