…And The Really, Really Messy
Messy, and infectious, too. What a week of body fluids it’s been.
Soon after I wrote the last post, we realized Babyboy was getting pretty sick. Hubby had to go to an event, so I holed up with one increasingly feverish kid, and one copiously boogery kid. Babyboy snuggled on the couch, and I let him watch endless Curious George. Babygirl snuffled along cheerfully. No one was eating much. I completely gave up on re-toilet training Babyboy, and changed his poopie pull-ups without fuss, poor kid.
By late afternoon, Babyboy’s cheeks were two spots of bright, bright red, the rest of him pasty pale, his eyes glassy. He started to nod off. Ugh. I really wanted him to get a bath, after multiple pull-up poops. Usually, I have to negotiate and order them up and into the tub. But that night, I just asked, meekly, “Anyone want to go warm tubbies?” Babyboy hugged his lovey to his chest and got up to go upstairs and Babygirl followed.
It was only 4:30 pm, but they were both so sick and exahusted, so I figured, what the heck? Bath and bed. Awesome.
I ran the bath and lifted them both in. I went to gather pajamas, diapers, cream; set up the humidifiers; tidy the beds. When I returned to the tub to wash faces, I was shocked to see…. brown water. Oh my god. Babyboy had had a huge diarrhea IN THE TUB. And neither of them seemed to care, splish-splashing away.
THERE’S POOP IN THE TUB! GET UP! GET OUT! I squawked, yanked them both out and wrapped them up. But now they REALLY needed a bath. As the water drained, I could see that this was to be no easy cleanup job. The kids have piles of toys in there, Legos and Little People, things with nooks and crannies.
If Hubby was home, he’d be bleaching everything. But, I had two miserably shivering sick kids crying “I’m COLD! MOMMY I’M SO COLD!”
So, the tub and toys got a quick wash-down with the shower, to the point that at least I couldn’t see any chunks or large flecks anymore. When I filled the tub again, I added bubble bath. Hey, now the water looked really clean.
In they went, washy washy, head to toe. Out they came, fresh new towels. Warm fuzzy pajamas. Now bed? No, they wanted their warm milk. So, down we went to drink warm milk, and THEN go to bed.
As Babyboy drank his milk, he started to cough. Then gag. And then, puke all over the couch, and his clean pajamas.
Oh, jeez. Off came the pajamas. We did a rapid wipe-down with a clean dishtowel. More “I’M COLD!” I pulled freshly laundered PJ’s from the basket.
Then, reasonably clean, reasonably full of milk, the kids went up to bed. Babyboy, steaming with fever, fell into a deep, but fitful sleep. Babygirl coughed her way down. But, they were both snoring by 7 pm.
I don’t think that has ever happened before. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I got more housework done in that hour than I have ever done. And at 8 pm, after I had sanitized the couch and sprayed the entire first floor with lavender air freshener, I sat down to watch some Sunday Night Football. Of course both kids woke up a bunch of times, but they fell back asleep with minimal attention. I got to watch pretty much the whole game. Amazing.
Then, the workweek. It’s been I.D. week at clinic. We’ve started to see swab- positive influenza. Meaning, we’re not just guessing it’s flu. It really is the flu. Also, a case of infectious mononucleosis. Then, several cases of clostridium dificile diarrhea. And then, travelers from an Ebola-stricken country (Not sick, but whoa! Did we all VERY QUICKLY read the hospital-issued Ebola case recognition and action guidelines!).
I mean, holy moly. I drove home from work yesterday trying to remember if I had touched my face at all the whole week. If I had, I could come down with any one of an assortment of illnesses… I only got my own flu shot the day after I saw one diagnosed. Not enough time to take effect.
Babyboy was home from school Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, coughing, not himself. This morning, Thursday, my day off, we tried to send him. I did my usual morning rounds at the animal shelter. Of course, it was a heinous mess there, too, with several new surrenders, and all those kittens…. cat puke, poop and pee galore. Despite the stench and excrement, once all is clean, I love petting a new arrival and hearing that PURRR. It’s like they’re saying, “I didn’t know anyone would ever be that nice to me again.”
Then, I was just getting to the gym, when I got the call from the school nurse. Could I come pick up my son? He just wasn’t feeling well.
Poor kid. Pale, whiney, not eating well, complaining of tummy ache… No more fevers, vomiting, or diarrhea, but he’s just too punky to participate. Oh well.
So we went home, and he helped me make an eggplant lasagna. He peeled and chopping the eggplant for me. He’s very good at peeling and chopping! I use eggplant two ways: chopped small, sauteed until squishy, and added to the sauce; and sliced lengthwise very thin, spritzed with olive oil, and baked. Plain whole-milk ricotta, good parm, good mozz, layer it up, let it brown. Done. As I wiped my hands, I turned and caught the cat sticking his paw into the ricotta container. Lick lick. Ewww! I guess we don’t keep the extra, then.
In the afternoon, Babyboy and I went to pick up Babygirl at her preschool, and as they played, her teachers raved about her. “She’s so mature, always wanting to comfort the other kids when they’re sad, always mediating arguments,” said one. “She’s an old soul,” said another. “She’s wise beyond her years. You can have, like, deep conversations with her.” Puff, puff. Bask, bask. Of course, all that maturity and wisdom didn’t stop her when we got in the car, and she found a piece of old chocolate candy from God knows when, somewhere in the car seat, and ATE IT.
So, long week, a lot of grossness, I hope I don’t get the flu, and please let Babyboy be able to go back to school after the holiday weekend….