I knew something was up with Zach a couple days ago. He barely ate anything over the weekend. He wasn’t really acting like he felt sick, but the whining was driving me up the wall. I noticed myself snapping at him and wondered what had gotten into him. Then I blamed myself for being cranky and pregnant. I thought surely I was just imagining it and that he was probably just being a normal 2-year-old.
I knew last night when I helped him in the bathroom. I knew something wasn’t right then. I wondered when he fought us at bedtime last night, and then again when he woke up fussing just a few hours later. But I really knew when he woke up this morning crying and saying, “Mommy! I gotta poo poo really bad!”
That pretty much set the tone for the entire day. Since I don’t want to miss any more work than absolutely necessary right now, I waited a couple of hours for his stomach to settle, made a quick stop at CVS for some children’s Pepto, then made the poor sick kid sit at work with me all afternoon while I tried to get some work done. I ended up having to stay longer than I originally thought and by the time we finally headed home he was exhausted.
Zach ended up crashing in the car and slept until after 7:30 on the couch. Now he’s up and seems to be feeling better. He just downed a bowl of Cars shaped chicken noodle soup and I’m really hoping that it stays where it should for a while.
Sometimes I have to wonder if the education he is getting at his school is worth all of the illness and germs he brings home. It seems like he was only actually well for about a week since the last round. Plus, the last thing we need in our house right now-with a new baby soon on the way-is more germs.