Monday, April 14, 2008


So yesterday morning at 330am I was awakened by a distress call emanating from the baby's room. I went in expecting to find that she'd had a bad dream, but instead.... Instead I found her bed awash in vomit. Vile, cold, foul-smelling vomit. So, I cleaned her up and threw her bedding in the wash and brought her to bed with me, kicking J out in the process. J is less than responsive at night and this freed up some space so I wasn't trying to sleep/care for a vomitous child whilst perched on the edge of the bed.

Sunday was therefore spent handling the bazooka barfer. I had to take the day off work. Delia was giving it up from both ends all day, very little input and a fair amount of output, so Monday she was no longer hurling but now a bit dehydrated and listless. This child, who normally sleeps only in bed at night or in the car seat on your longer drive, fell asleep on a little nest we made her on the floor (as she had already soiled the couch, and J had mercifully cleaned it with the rug shampooer thingy) twice on Sunday, and on the (now dry but still somewhat gamey) couch a few times both Monday and today.

As she is still having (ugh) diarrhea, I have made her a doctors appointment tomorrow. I got home today from a long day at school and found her laying on the couch, all feverish and pitiful, and J told me that she'd been that way all day. But, after a little ibuprofen and some Gatorade-type-product she has rallied pretty well. She's eating some dinner and has a little more energy right now. You know, just in time for bed.

By the way, she has never really been sick like this before. She's had a couple snotty head colds and one other bout of puking at about 8 months old (memorably, the night before we moved to this house), but this kind of glassy eyed feverish state is one I've never seen before.

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