Here are my top three least favorite things about having a sick child:
- Watching helplessly while they suffer
- Cleaning up after whatever the current illness spews out
- Waiting and wondering if anyone else is going to get the illness and how long this one is going to stick around
We had a fun morning yesterday with friends. We went to a local Fire Station and got a tour, then went and ate lunch with the same crowd. We'd been home for a few hours when I glanced over at Cooper and thought he looked a little odd. And that's when the fountain of vomit rained forth from his lips. (My apologies to those with a weak stomach.)
I had been about to feed Phoebe when this happened. I quickly changed gears. Phoebe went into her baby rocking chair (which Peter had brought into the bathroom for me, bless him), Cooper went into the tub, and Peter was sent to turn on a movie for Cooper to watch when he was done being hosed down. Cooper actually had three baths yesterday. We discovered he has a strong aversion to throwing-up in a bowl and much prefers to use his front and the surrounding carpet and couch as a vomit receptacle.
Our washing machine was continually employed throughout the afternoon and evening.
The poor little guy couldn't eat or drink anything and finally went to sleep for the night around two in the morning. Bryan stayed up with him and then got up twice more during the night to help him. I appreciated that since I needed to help Phoebe during the night.
Cooper woke up this morning smiling, his usual, bouncy self. He ate saltines and drank fizzy stuff and generally behaved as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened yesterday. I'm still waiting on number three on my list. No one else has gotten sick, but I'm not sure if it's too soon to declare an all-clear. Perhaps it was food poisoning from our fast-food lunch? That would explain why no one else was plagued. Except that Peter and Cooper ate the exact same meal.
Whatever caused it, I'm glad that Cooper is better.
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