caerula's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- a pukey entry Why is it that when your kid is sick you feel like a bad mom because you can't make him feel better, even though you know logically that if he's throwing up every 10 minutes there's not much you can do for him? Fortunately it seems to have been a 24-hour bug, and the worst is past, but YMB couldn't keep anything down all day yesterday. It started, of course, while he and I were up in Wyandotte, at Gramma's. Blue was supposed to go with us, but I couldn't roust him out of bed after his audit shift, so we left him sleeping and drove the 45 minutes out there on our own, listening to YMB's new _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_ audiobook. Gramma had cooked dinner, and Aunt Hypo and Aunt P and FutureSerialKiller were all present, and surprisingly well-behaved. Hypo of course regaled me with tales of recent illnesses and doctor's visits, and her annoying little yappy dogs jumped on me and licked my ear and barked at YMB. She has a Yorkie named Sammy Jo and a papillion named Lucas. Can we say child substitutes? When YMB lost his dinner all over the kitchen floor, it did at least provide me with a good excuse to take my leave. It is, of course, a 45 minute drive home, and YMB threw up twice more. Once I managed to pull over in time for him to lean out, but the second time it was too late, and we had nothing handy for him to throw up in. So I spent the evening cleaning my car upholstery and taking care of a pukey kid. The in-laws were due to come over to bring YMB his Christmas presents, and were already on their way by the time I got home with YMB. So he lolled rather pathetically on the couch and sloooowly unwrapped his presents, pausing for dives to the wastebasket every now and then, poor kid. We knew he was really sick when he could mangage no more than weak grins at his really nifty gifts. But YMB's inability to enjoy his gifts meant that I ended up awake until two in the morning playing Harry Potter GameBoy Advance. Damn video games. But he was much recovered this morning, and after a foray to the store for popsicles and juice seems to be doing much better. He and Blue spent much of the day playing video games and putting together one of his new Lego sets, and watching "Spy Kids" on DVD, while I went to the doctor, went to Target, went to Sam's Club, and, since I happened to be in the area, swung by the quilt shop. Not that I needed anything, but I hadn't been in in a while, and I got some very cute bright-colored fat quarters, which I'm sure I will do something with eventually. And we undecorated the Christmas tree -- always depressing -- and got most of the Christmas stuff put away. My anal-retentive yet loveable husband spent half-an-hour vacuuming pine needles out of the carpet, and then spent another 20 minutes on his hands and knees, picking the ones that the vacuum missed out of the carpet by hand. Which totally ruins the joy of stepping on pine needles working their way out of the carpet in June. The tree is gone. Christmas is over. And I have four more days of vacation before it's back to the grind. Blahsuck. I have accomplished precisely nothing so far besides perfecting my napping-on-the-couch-during-hockey-games skill, learning how to clean vomit out of car upholstery, and getting addicted to Harry Potter Gameboy. A rather successful holiday, I'd say. Aside from the puke, which I could have lived without. 10:32 pm - January 2, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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