Downhill
We started the day off great. There was no preschool, so we met up with 2 other boys from Ethan's class and their moms at a local place filled with a half dozen inflatables to bounce, climb, and slide on. Ethan was in heaven.
For the record, I am proud to announce that Ethan has some suh-weeet Skeeball skills for a 3-year-old, which he inherited from me, which I got from my own mother. That's right, I rock Skeeball. I will take you down any time. Bring your Chuck E Cheese tokens and your kleenex, because you'll be crying your way home. And if that's not enough for you, Jason will kick your butt in air hockey. Yes, we are an extremely talented family.
When we left, Ethan was exhausted and hungry. I picked him up some lunch and a milkshake. We got home and he passed up the milkshake and asked for water. At this point, I should have gone into a complete panic.
Then he said he needed to "lay down on the couch for just a minute because I'm tired." Also a bad sign. I couldn't get him to play or do much of anything besides watch TV, but he said he was feeling fine, so I chalked it up to too much activity, growth spurt, etc. Around 4:00, I picked him up to try to coax him out the door to run a quick errand. He was burning up. I took his temp...102.7. He crawled under the big down comforter on my bed and just laid there with his arm over his eyes, nodding off every once in a while. He pretty quickly started complaining that his stomach hurt, so I knew we were in trouble. At 5:30 he wanted dinner. After 3 bites of applesauce, he threw up everything he'd eaten for lunch. Poor kid. Then he was feeling better and starving, so he ate the rest of the applesauce, some banana, some toast...then threw it all up. He's been asleep for several hours and his fever seems to have broken so hopefully it's a quick bug. I turned my back on him for a few minutes to do something and came back to find him asleep spooning the tupperware bowl. Poor baby.
Jason has a massive, severe, [insert synonym of choice here] aversion to nausea (his) and vomiting (anyone's). If you've ever heard him throw up (and I imagine anyone living within a 3-mile radius of us has), then you know why. It's not pleasant. He would rather cut you open, stitch you up, or disimpact your bowels than deal with vomit. Which explains the following conversation we had earlier tonight:
Jason: This is horrible. What if I get sick? What am I going to do?
Me: You? So what if you get sick? What if I'm home puking and trying to take care of 2 puking little boys?
Jason: That's not nearly as bad as me getting nauseated. Not even a tenth.
In his defense, he was joking. Mostly.
You may be wondering what was going on with Colin while Ethan played happily with his friends and then camped out sick the whole afternoon. He was in his typical happy-to-be-here Colin mode. I know the vast majority of 5-month-olds are (1) adorable, and (2) easy, but, man, is this kid adorable and easy. He just rolled around on the bed happily gurgling at Ethan, the wall, the TV. (Don't worry...I was on perimeter duty while also manning the tupperware container.) After spending the morning with him, my friend said, "I just can't believe this kid. I mean, I can see why Mormons in Utah have 17 kids. I would, too, if they were like this!" Me, too, minus about a dozen kids (and all Mormon babies are the exact same, apparently...my friend said we must have "sedate Mormon blood"....who knew?). I didn't get any photos of him today, but here's one from last Saturday from our very fun trip to a train museum (more on that, and other less graphic details of our lives, when the vomiting stops).
For the record, I am proud to announce that Ethan has some suh-weeet Skeeball skills for a 3-year-old, which he inherited from me, which I got from my own mother. That's right, I rock Skeeball. I will take you down any time. Bring your Chuck E Cheese tokens and your kleenex, because you'll be crying your way home. And if that's not enough for you, Jason will kick your butt in air hockey. Yes, we are an extremely talented family.
When we left, Ethan was exhausted and hungry. I picked him up some lunch and a milkshake. We got home and he passed up the milkshake and asked for water. At this point, I should have gone into a complete panic.
Then he said he needed to "lay down on the couch for just a minute because I'm tired." Also a bad sign. I couldn't get him to play or do much of anything besides watch TV, but he said he was feeling fine, so I chalked it up to too much activity, growth spurt, etc. Around 4:00, I picked him up to try to coax him out the door to run a quick errand. He was burning up. I took his temp...102.7. He crawled under the big down comforter on my bed and just laid there with his arm over his eyes, nodding off every once in a while. He pretty quickly started complaining that his stomach hurt, so I knew we were in trouble. At 5:30 he wanted dinner. After 3 bites of applesauce, he threw up everything he'd eaten for lunch. Poor kid. Then he was feeling better and starving, so he ate the rest of the applesauce, some banana, some toast...then threw it all up. He's been asleep for several hours and his fever seems to have broken so hopefully it's a quick bug. I turned my back on him for a few minutes to do something and came back to find him asleep spooning the tupperware bowl. Poor baby.
Jason has a massive, severe, [insert synonym of choice here] aversion to nausea (his) and vomiting (anyone's). If you've ever heard him throw up (and I imagine anyone living within a 3-mile radius of us has), then you know why. It's not pleasant. He would rather cut you open, stitch you up, or disimpact your bowels than deal with vomit. Which explains the following conversation we had earlier tonight:
Jason: This is horrible. What if I get sick? What am I going to do?
Me: You? So what if you get sick? What if I'm home puking and trying to take care of 2 puking little boys?
Jason: That's not nearly as bad as me getting nauseated. Not even a tenth.
In his defense, he was joking. Mostly.
You may be wondering what was going on with Colin while Ethan played happily with his friends and then camped out sick the whole afternoon. He was in his typical happy-to-be-here Colin mode. I know the vast majority of 5-month-olds are (1) adorable, and (2) easy, but, man, is this kid adorable and easy. He just rolled around on the bed happily gurgling at Ethan, the wall, the TV. (Don't worry...I was on perimeter duty while also manning the tupperware container.) After spending the morning with him, my friend said, "I just can't believe this kid. I mean, I can see why Mormons in Utah have 17 kids. I would, too, if they were like this!" Me, too, minus about a dozen kids (and all Mormon babies are the exact same, apparently...my friend said we must have "sedate Mormon blood"....who knew?). I didn't get any photos of him today, but here's one from last Saturday from our very fun trip to a train museum (more on that, and other less graphic details of our lives, when the vomiting stops).
4 comments:
Kim I totally relate with Jason. The rule in our house is that Jared deals with any and all vomit. I can't be around it, I start to panic.
On a happier note, you have very cute kids :)
Could you hear me laughing from New York? Jason is JUST LIKE HIS FATHER who last vomited in 1978. Next morning our next door neighbor knocked on my door to see if anyone had "died" in the night? I am not kidding! On a more somber note I am sorry to hear that Ethan isn't feeling well): And...Colin is too cute!
It's true!!! I count my blessings that it has been almost 30 years since I barfed! I'm still recovering from that last episode when I woke up the neighbors! She said she almost called the police thinking I was being murdered. Jason has my complete support in is paranoia over the threat of catching a vomit bug from someone else!
Who'd have thought your kids would ever be described as "sedate"? I hope neither of you get sick!
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