I wasn't sure how long I'd last without writing about puke or poop. I guess now we know. Everybody knows you deal with a ton of both when you have a baby. I didn't know that it gets progressively worse as the baby grows older.
Breastfed babies are like a dream. It barely smells coming from either end. Except for the frequency and our use of "save-the-planet" diapers, it wouldn't have been much trouble. Armed with a bunch of cloth diapers to use as burp cloths we were rarely ever covered in regurgitated milk. Now, it's a completely different story that's basically all my fault.
Our darling girl has been very sick the past 6 weeks. And despite our best efforts we've been sick as well. It's been one virus after another. Thank you Sunday school nursery. I've been saying that we might as well be licking subway poles for how sick we've been. Yea. That sounds fun.
The only thing worse than a sick baby is a sick husband and the only thing worse than a sick husband is having to take care of them both while you yourself are also, sick. For three weeks we had what Im dubbing the plague of 2011. Fever, achy with a horrible cough so bad Kyle literally could not sleep. He had to get on a medicine that told his brain not to cough. Good times.
The baby rounded out that virus with a secondary ear infection. Then, she caught a stomach virus. I discovered this at 12am one morning when she woke up and vomited all over her crib. My comforting instincts go into overdrive when my daughter is puking. I just want to make her feel better. So when she is voming and calling my name and trying to hug on to me, I let her. If this strikes you as extremely stupid, it is. Arden continued to puke all night long so many times that I lost track and we were both out of clothing the next morning. She kept asking for water and then puking it up. You'd think I'd only fall for that once and I did until I thought "maybe she's done" and it happened again.
She went a whole day without vomiting and then we had our first projectile. Frankly, it was pretty awesome. It came totally out of the blue while she was in her highchair in the kitchen. I was on the phone with Kyle and was like, "projectile, gotta go". The clean-up job didn't appear to be too bad until I noticed the dog had been hit. 2 baths and a shave down later the poor girl still smelled like puke.
I thought that I had outsmarted the virus by not eating. It had been 48 hours without my vomiting so even though I wasn't hungry, I had a small bowl of popcorn that Kyle made. Who out there can smell fresh popcorn and not eat some? I wish I hadn't. Out of no where, an unholy feeling came over me when I was up with the baby in the middle of the night. I've never felt anything like it. I ran into the bedroom and said "take the baby!" and thankfully Kyle woke up and was coherent. Popcorn. What was I thinking?
The next episode was also completely my fault. We brush my darling daughter's teeth and have been doing so for some time. We've done it all. Sing about it, laugh, make it a game, use Brushy-Teethy Guy the hand puppet, ultimatums, you name it we might have tried it. Sometimes she won't go for any of it and we have to force her. This is one of the things I didn't realize I signed up for when we got pregnant. Arden hates being forced to do anything. We use an electric toothbrush so it is literally once over all surface area and she's done. She usually recovers quickly from this enforcement but the night before our trip to Denver, we were not so lucky. She got herself so upset that, you guessed it, it triggered her gag reflex and everything from her apparently 10 course dinner came up. I will be holding her over the toilet from here on out.
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