Oct 17, 2015

Standard Momming 101

I got barfed on. At one in the morning I put a beach towel over the tiny spot that hit the sheet and went back to sleep.  Every time the kid rolled over or breathed different, I woke up and asked him if he needed to barf again.  He didn't but by 5am my tough little guy who normally rubs dirt in a wound and keeps running, was wincing with belly pains and I could feel the fever radiating off his back. So I warmed up the car and we went to the doc.  The nurse got us into a room right away because all the usual trouble makers one finds in a waiting room are still sleeping at 6am on a Saturday, leaving us lone writhing wolves, panting and half crying, to usher into an even smaller room and out of clothes (well, I got to keep mine on.) About an hour of crappy cable TV later a doctor entered in time to witness the very last belly pain of the morning and confirm I would be cancelling all plans for the day in lieu of getting pee on my hand, helping the nurse coax very good tasting medicine into a body, and the longest game of 'Eye spy with my little eye something blue that you're wearing' ever played.  Another hour, a can of apple juice, an anti-nausea pill, a Motrin, and a Popsicle went by. The kid slept and I read the entire internet on my tiny screen while sipping the bitterest burnt hazelnut coffee in Illinois. Then we went home with instructions for Acetaminophen and rest (neither for me, I'm sure.)

Did you know they have anti-nausea pills? I just always thought you had to ride it out and barf all the barfs you could barf - like a helpless shrimp, squirming on the cold tile floor of the bathroom.

Link telling you about all the things you probably don't have 

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