May 31, 2011

Party Like it's 1999

When it comes to long weekends of sunshine where most people are consuming potentially lethal amounts of hamburgers and hot dogs while up at their cabins, our family knows how to celebrate. While it may not be the traditional method, it involves a gratuitous amount of togetherness and family time, albeit not on a peaceful lake. This past weekend, we celebrated with the stomach flu, mild panic, and a trip to our local Urgent Care. It's how the cool families are celebrating Memorial Day.

It started on Saturday morning when the toddler woke up with a nasty fever. Since I'd read on Facebook about another child who had similar symptoms in Nathaniel's playgroup earlier that week, I assumed that it had finally struck our house being that my child enforces a strict policy of tasting every toy that he comes into contact with prior to playing.

The hubs and I finally put Nathaniel down for his nap when Jonathan headed out the door for a bike ride. No sooner had he left when Nathaniel awoke in hysterics. Still naive to the excitement to come, I gathered him up along with the clothes I was trying to put on for that day and made for the stairs. That was when it happened.

BBLLLLEEEECCCCCHHHHHHH.

He lost it. All over the two of us, my stack of clothes, and our white carpet. And though I gagged a bit, I didn't follow suit. My mother was right, being a mom apparently changes you in ways you could never anticipate, including my hypersensitivity to the sight and smell of vomit. Motherhood, you rock.

In tandem as I swabbed the chunks off of the toddler and myself, I reached for my cell phone and summoned my backup, the hubs. My man walked in the front door to my yelled warnings about not walking through our downstairs hallway. At least without some rain gear or galoshes.

Finally, as I sat rocking the toddler in our glider (within reach of a clean bucket I might add), he calmed down and fell into an exhausted sleep. That's how we stayed for a solid two hours until Nathaniel began to stir and I passed him off to Jonathan so I could get dressed and put some food into my pregnant belly.

But that was when we noticed the welts.

All down the toddler's arms and legs, there were huge, red welts. Coupled with the fact that our little man was pretty lethargic, still running a nasty fever, and had generously shared his digested breakfast banana with me, I was starting to panic. So I took two minutes to throw on some clothes, still rocking the scent of Eau de Toddler Puke, and then sped all the way to our local Urgent Care, planning exactly how I was going to get out of my anticipated speeding ticket.

As fate would have it, our local cops had bigger fish to fry on Saturday and we made it to the office without tickets, road rage, or any of my lesser-known obscene gestures. I expected to waltz through the doors and be seen IMMEDIATELY, being that MY CHILD WAS SUDDENLY ILL WITH HIS SKIN ABOUT TO EXPLODE, but in typical Urgent Care fashion, we were given a number and told to wait while the other patients frolicked around the waiting area as though they were there for a frat party.

I was not amused, but fate didn't fail me in that moment since our wait was brief. And when the doctor took a look at Nathaniel's welts, she informed me that she wanted to jam an oversized Q-tip down his throat to check for strep.

Because my kid already loves the doctor's office, the awesome place where he goes to get shots. Heck, it's practically an amusement park filled with puppies and candy.

But because I love my son, I held him still while he screamed bloody murder and the doctor performed her exam. And then the results came back negative and I breathed a sigh of relief when the doctor told us that it was all caused by a virus and that he would get better on his own. I resisted the urge to slam a giant Q-tip down her throat in that moment and snuggled my very warm little boy.

That day, I discovered two things. One, my son has developed a taste for grape-flavored Infant Acetaminophen and our days of forcing it down his throat amid bloodcurdling screams are finally over, thank heaven and amen. Two, this was nothing but a 24-hour bug as I realized when my son came toddling happily into our bedroom at 3:30 on Sunday morning, wanting to play.

I could tell from bending down to give him hugs and snuggles that his fever was a thing of the past. And judging from the giggles and delighted shrieks when I laid him down in his bed next to THE TEDDY BEAR! he was, once again, his normal self. Sure, it took him an hour to go back to sleep, but I sat there and said a prayer of thanks that he was all better. After all, we still had Memorial Day to celebrate. And a dangerous amount of hamburgers to eat.

1 comment:

  1. So glad it wasn't something serious, and that he is feeling much better!

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