I have dreaded this day for a few months now. A year ago today my brother passed away after a brief but very severe illness.
I’ve often wondered how I would spend today. The reality is very different from anything I imagined.
It all started last week. Saturday was completely unremarkable. I had planned to go out to dinner with friends. S was going to stay home with the kids. T was very clingy most of the morning but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. She is still adjusting, as we all are, to having R around.
By mid afternoon, she decided she needed a nap. T taking a nap is the equivalent to having Haley’s comet passing the Earth this year. It just not going to happen.
After she got up from her nap, she was really hot. I figured it was just because she had gotten up from a nap where she had worn heavier clothes than she wears to bed and had slept under two blankets on flannel sheets.
By 4:30pm, I was getting ready when I heard a sound. A thunderous stampede was headed for the main bathroom. I hurried out to see puke all over Bart and Dahlia (T’s stuffed buddies) and a shaking T. Apparently she had been sick.
The rest of Saturday was as most of the day had been unremarkable. I stayed home from my night out but there was no more puking. Yay!
T was a bit off most of the week but nothing that pointed in any medical direction as being the stomach flu etc. She had an atomic meltdown Thursday afternoon but aside from that the week went pretty normal.
Then came Friday morning. When she got up, she didn’t want breakfast. This is standard operating procedure for T. Its a fight to get food into her on the best of days. In fact, she hadn’t eaten much all week but again, that’s not uncommon. When T decides she does not want to do something, nothing changes her mind.
She had asked for milk. I grabbed the sippy of milk that she hadn’t finished the night before out of the fridge (potentially a bad move in hindsight) and gave it to her. She guzzled it back no problem. She wanted more so I gave her more.
All seemed pretty standard until I had just started to give R his morning bottle. We’ve had our own issues with Mr. R of late, primarily in the teething department. His poor little bottom barely survived the cutting of his two bottom teeth.
His problems in the diaper department have ceased in the last days. But not before I had to contend with explosive, out of the diaper, up the back and into the onesie poops. I had to go so far as to get diaper maxipads to put help curtail the pooptastic explosions. T never had this issue so I’m in unknown territory. I know other boys who have similar issues so I’m going on the theory its a boy thing.
Back to Friday morning, just after I got R dressed and started on his bottle, T started to eat her banana. She didn’t get too far.
Without warning, up came 2 cups of milk and whatever was left in her tummy from the night before. All over my area rug in the living room. Charming. She made it to the bathroom but only after hitting another rug by the front door.
After we got that mess cleaned up, all was well. T ate more yesterday than I think she ate all week. R seemed a bit off his food but nothing that couldn’t be accounted for because of what appears to be the eminent arrival of more teeth.
I checked on him last night before I went to bed, S checked on him around midnight and I checked on him when I got up at 7am. All was well. It was rather nice seeing as he has been waking up screaming the past few nights.
All was quiet until I went in to get him up around 9am.
The room was rather odorous. Not unusual. While T was a 10-10:30am on the dot pooper, R is any time of day or night. Its totally normal to change a poopy diaper first thing in the morning.
Well, what greeted me was more than your average poopy diaper. Let me preface this: I’ve seen my share of poopy diapers. I lived through but barely survived the gastro bug of 2008 in which we all had a very nasty bug for 2 weeks.
Before I had woken him up, he was fast asleep. When he woke up, there was a big smile. No overt signs of what came next.
Then I saw it. Poop and not just in his diaper...
When I went to lift R from his bed, there was a large brown mark under his head. Apparently, R didn’t want to let his sister get all the attention.
I had R dressed in three layers. A light cotton playsuit, a fleece sleeper and then a light fleece sleep sack. Its freezing in his room at night and we’ve had some colder than average temperatures lately.
I looked at the back of his head and neck. Poop. Down his back. Poop.
S was getting ready for work. I sounded the alarm and thankfully after I undressed R and did a cursory clean up, S took him to the bathtub. R’s second bath in less than 24 hours.
Apparently the poop migrated up his back, through his playsuit, up his neck and all over anything it came in contact with. Oh yak.
While I was still pregnant, I had gone through all of T’s old clothes, scavenging anything a boy could wear. The playsuit he was wearing was one T received as a gift for her first Xmas from a family friend. I really wanted R to wear it was it is just the right size for him now. The hat that came with it, not so much. He doesn’t like wearing hats...
I had been looking for the playsuit for the last few weeks but just couldn’t find it. Last night I finally found it. Ironically, the saying on the front, below the picture of a moose says, “I MOOSE BE DREAMING!”
Yes, this morning I only wished that I could have been dreaming for a number of reasons. I think the stomach flu has invaded.
I’ve washed my hands religiously for three months trying to prevent the spread of germs. My hands are so dry I’ve got splits and cracks all over them. All for not apparently.