Lessons Learned From A Stomach Bug
Lesson One: Everyone has a nemesis, the one smell/sight/sound (or combination thereof) that just sends them straight into Nausea Land and mine is a certain type of diarrhea--I'll spare you the details, but I have to say: I can handle dog and baby poo (and barf, too, as it happens I also discovered) with little difficulty, aside from some nose-wrinkling and a need to wash my hands ASAP. But this stuff... just really makes me start gagging instantly.
What? You didn't read the title of this post? Your problem, dude. I warned you.
Lesson Two: Having a child who bounces back swiftly from colds and rarely gets any other kind of illness has been way better than I realized. I've heard of rotavirus that just ran rampant through playgroups and left everyone wretched for weeks but Dada has, thank God and knock wood, avoided it. And carsick? Don't make me laugh. She does great on a full stomach with her dad flinging her around by her feet in a way that makes me queasy to watch (and not just from the fear that she'll go flying across the room and slam into a wall).
Lesson Three: When this same child says "belly hurts" in the car, you pay attention. No, wait, you PAY ATTENTION. Not that there's anything you can do about it, because it's not a signal that she's going to spew all over the inside of your car right that minute, just that she might in the next few hours. Might want to head home when you hear that. Or not. Whatever.
Still working out the details on this particular lesson.
Lesson Four: Tagteam parenting becomes key when you have a stomach bug making the rounds. Wednesday, Dad's singing the YAAAARGH Aria in the can and spends the rest of the day looking like a less-active-than-average zombie so Mom's on the job. Thursday, Mom's heaving (a bit more daintily but still... damn, I would have welcomed an alien bursting out of my chest because, ok, sure, you're dead, but it's over and you don't have to deal with it again) and then has the dreaded Bucket Flu* and, voila, Dad's taking the child to Mother's Day Out (or, in this case, Mother's Day Begging For The Sweet Release of Death) and bringing her home and things are more or less under control. Friday's trickier because there's no MDO and both parents are still a bit puny, ditto for Saturday. But if Eliot was one of those useless dads who can't look after the child for a while? Damn. I'd be lost.
That's enough of the lessons for now. Maybe I'll have more when I'm fully recovered.
*Bucket Flu? That's when you need to keep a bucket next to the toilet. I'll spare you more detail.
What? You didn't read the title of this post? Your problem, dude. I warned you.
Lesson Two: Having a child who bounces back swiftly from colds and rarely gets any other kind of illness has been way better than I realized. I've heard of rotavirus that just ran rampant through playgroups and left everyone wretched for weeks but Dada has, thank God and knock wood, avoided it. And carsick? Don't make me laugh. She does great on a full stomach with her dad flinging her around by her feet in a way that makes me queasy to watch (and not just from the fear that she'll go flying across the room and slam into a wall).
Lesson Three: When this same child says "belly hurts" in the car, you pay attention. No, wait, you PAY ATTENTION. Not that there's anything you can do about it, because it's not a signal that she's going to spew all over the inside of your car right that minute, just that she might in the next few hours. Might want to head home when you hear that. Or not. Whatever.
Still working out the details on this particular lesson.
Lesson Four: Tagteam parenting becomes key when you have a stomach bug making the rounds. Wednesday, Dad's singing the YAAAARGH Aria in the can and spends the rest of the day looking like a less-active-than-average zombie so Mom's on the job. Thursday, Mom's heaving (a bit more daintily but still... damn, I would have welcomed an alien bursting out of my chest because, ok, sure, you're dead, but it's over and you don't have to deal with it again) and then has the dreaded Bucket Flu* and, voila, Dad's taking the child to Mother's Day Out (or, in this case, Mother's Day Begging For The Sweet Release of Death) and bringing her home and things are more or less under control. Friday's trickier because there's no MDO and both parents are still a bit puny, ditto for Saturday. But if Eliot was one of those useless dads who can't look after the child for a while? Damn. I'd be lost.
That's enough of the lessons for now. Maybe I'll have more when I'm fully recovered.
*Bucket Flu? That's when you need to keep a bucket next to the toilet. I'll spare you more detail.
posted by jwoods at 4:57 PM
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