Old Ironbelly

On Monday night Willa puked every 30 minutes like clockwork from approximately 8:30 pm until 4:30 am. It was rough, but I knew we were headed for the clear when the last puke happened a full 45 minutes later at 5:15 am, instead of her usual 30 minute episodes. What's sadder than watching a toddler throw up repeatedly? Well, it's watching the tummy pains wake her up out of a brief respite of sleep and then dry heave repeatedly and then beg for water. I started giving her water because it wasn't making her throw up more often, and anything has to be better than dry heaving.

I pulled out an air mattress and laid next to her in her room to help her through the night. Eventually, she asked (and I allowed) her to come and snuggle with me on the mattress and surprisingly we slept a little better and I was better positioned to hold the barf bowl during the following rounds. She went through three sets of sheets from all the vomiting this time and finally I started putting towels on her pillow since the dry heaving was still bringing stuff up, but not a lot of stuff. We went through about five or six towels.

Tending to a sick loved one is always an inner battle for me, especially with stomach flu-ish things. On the one hand, I want to provide relief and comfort, on the other I want to avoid germs and inflicting the same flu upon myself. It's always kind of a hug with my face turned away, holding my breath, my eyes closed, and then running and washing my hands right afterwards and lysoling everything like crazy. I'm a woman who loves my can of Lysol, my disinfectant wipes, and my hand sanitizer. As soon as she first puked, we cleaned her up, and then I ran through the house spraying every light switch, handle, toy, couch, phone, remote control, and anything that she could have remotely put a germ on. Then, I repeated this exercise several times throughout the illness (well, on Tuesday when she was laying around watching t.v. and the puking had stopped). I washed anything and everything that she has come into contact with. Her clothes, blankets, sheets, our clothes that we were wearing when we hugged her, any towels, everything

It's been 24 hours since her last bout and she is feeling better, but I'm keeping a strict eye on June and myself. Up until it happened, we were all sharing germs like we didn't have a care in the world. It will be amazing if we don't come down with it, but I'm crossing my fingers.

June continues to delight and vex us with her little personality. She likes to pop off during nursing and start laughing a silly laugh like we have an inside joke. I have tried milk in her sippy cup a few times, she tastes it, looks at me, tastes it again and then hits the cup away and gags. It's going to be a journey, I think. Yesterday, she communicated that she was done eating her oatmeal by not only refusing the spoonful that I offered, but also picking up the little oats that had spilled on her bib and then flinging them over the side of her highchair onto the floor. Message received!