Before I had children, the idea of changing diapers and cleaning up vomit made me, literally, gag. Even the actual changing of diapers the few times I babysat an infant made me throw up in my mouth a little. I didn’t baby sit very much.
Somehow when it’s your own kid, though, these things don’t even make you blink. Vomit, diarrhea, snot, drool — you name it. If it’s flowing out of Bun or Monkey, it doesn’t turn my stomach. (Blood is the exception to the rule. Blood on your baby pushes the panic button.)
This is very curious to me, but I’m sure there’s some biological explanation. After all if our children revolted us with their basic bodily functions, it would be difficult to care for them. So much for the perpetuation of the species.
And it’s a good thing too, because Bun threw up spectacularly Wednesday night. I knew something was up when she didn’t even touch her dinner. Although she seemed just fine playing, she started crying when I tried to bathe her. And then as I was drying her off, she puked.
I caught most of the first wave in her towel, and got her to the toilet. As I was giving her another bath, she puked a little in the tub, too.
Her temperature was 102.2, so fingers crossed I gave her a little water and a dose of ibuprophen. She kept that all down and slept through the night.
I got up Thursday and got ready to go to work. Bun started crying, and I went into get her. She seemed a little warm, and she cried for “dinkie, dinkie”, Bun for drink. Dummy me, I gave her some water. I gave her more water. And then she puked all that up, too, at 6:30 a.m.
I thought Dan didn’t start until 1 p.m., but it turns out he had a 9 a.m. patient, so I had to call into work.
Bun insisted on yogurt at 8:30 a.m., and I lost the argument with her. “You’re just going to throw that up,” holds no water with a hungry 2-year-old. Although her fever continued to hover around 100, she did not vomit again the rest of the day. I fed her what I consider ‘sick food’: crackers, soup, buttered noodles. For Bun, she was lethargic, although still energetic enough to play with some toys and try to help me fold laundry. She napped for almost four hours.
She seems to be well on the mend. I have my fingers crossed (again) that I won’t get a call from daycare. And that I won’t be cleaning up more puke this weekend.