Posts Tagged ‘illness’

You’re hot then you’re cold

Monday, January 25th, 2010

On Friday I had my first experience with projectile vomit. Now I understand what the doctor meant when I kept bringing in my infant saying, “He’s throwing up! There’s something wrong!” and the pediatrician kept saying “No no no, that’s nothing. Trust me, you’ll know.” AND NOW I KNOW. Boy do I know. And since I would like to keep all my lovely readers, I won’t even tell you about the diapers. Let’s just say whatever bug is inside my poor little munchkin his body REALLY wants it out.

Since Baby Evan is still on uncertain terms with the sippy cup, I spent most of Saturday trying to force liquids down his throat.  He doesn’t like nursing when he’s sick (which I think is ridiculously ironic – isn’t the whole point of nursing that it’s supposed to be comforting?) so he’s not getting much of anything in his system. I’m terrified he’s going to get dehydrated and end up in the hospital where the doctors will all frown at me and say “What do you mean he doesn’t eat food? What do you mean he doesn’t take a bottle? You can’t possibly have nursed him every feeding for the last 10 months.” Because even I will admit that sounds a little crazy. True, but crazy. Plus I haven’t yet figured out how to get Pedialyte into my boobs so the best I can do for a vomiting baby is a little juice in a sippy of water and hope he accidentally swallows some of it while he chews on it. He’s still having wet diapers so I’m not panicked yet but if things don’t improve by tomorrow morning I’ll have to make an appointment.

In true motherhood fashion, just when the baby starts feeling better I get catch the same horrible germs. Again, I’ll do you a favor by skipping specifics but lets just say the symptoms might be even more unpleasant in a non-diaper wearing adult. I managed to wait until the babe was asleep before collapsing in a miserable, feverish heap Saturday night but just barely. My temperature fluctuated so much I felt like a Katy Perry song, first lying on the floor in my bra complaining I was burning up and then huddling under the blankets begging E to turn up the heat. I spent most of the night lying on the bathroom floor because the cold felt good on my face (uh, and also so I could throw up in a more appropriate place than the kitchen).  A whole Sunday of misery brings me to this morning, where I’m getting by on a diet of Mountain Dew and several gallons of water, trying to stay awake while I watch the baby torture pet the cat.  My parenting today is going to be more “keep the baby alive” and less “stimulate his mind and development”, but I’m ok with that. Even Super Moms need sick days.

Attack of the Giant Snot Monster

Monday, November 2nd, 2009

Baby Evan is suffering from his first real illness, although unless there’s a medical term for “buckets of snot coming from the nose” it’s not something we could have vaccinated against. I think it’s due to a combination of  the weather change, teething, and maybe a tiny head cold. Unfortunately, his cold came at exactly the same moment he learned to army crawl at an alarming speed, so now he’s dragging himself around the house, leaving slimy trails of snot and booger-filled spit everywhere he goes. He’s the world’s cutest snail.

For the most part, Baby Evan doesn’t seem to care his nose is dripping everywhere, and refuses to allow anyone to do anything about it. He fights tissues, cloths or baby wipes anywhere near his face. Yesterday we held him down and got a few saline drops up his nose, but the level of EVIL WOMAN CHILD ABUSE TORTURE SOMEBODY HELP ME screaming and struggling hardly seemed worth it. I tried to squirt some milk in his nostrils but most of it ended up in his eye. Unless he gets sicker or starts spiking a fever, we’re going to just wait out the booger machine. I’m hoping that doesn’t mean waiting for warmer April May June weather, when the neighbors become concerned and break in to find all of us stuck to the floor, encased in slime, a horrible tableau serving as a warning to lazy parents everywhere.



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