Don’t ask me how we managed to go 4 years unscathed before our son came down with his first stomach flu. It’s called pure dumb luck, I think. Especially since he’s in daycare and we don’t avoid parks or bounce houses or the state fair. We’ve just gotten really, really lucky.
Until tonight when he started saying his tummy hurt. Three crackers and one sip of water in and we were teaching him how to vomit into the toilet.
I’m sorry. I hope you weren’t eating. I should have put up a warning, huh?
Puke has never really bothered me but man, it is heartbreaking watching your kid lose his lunch. I felt so powerless, sitting there holding him over the bowl and rubbing his back in comfort. With a cold, you can use a humidifier and medicine and hot showers. With a stomach bug, you just have to ride it out and hope your washing machine survives.
Right now he’s sleeping beside me on his crib mattress on my bedroom floor. I laid out towels all around with a big bowl beside him. I’ve emailed work and the daycare to say we won’t be in tomorrow – I know my day will be spent making sure he gets enough liquids and trying to get the vomit smell out of the house.
And praying that I don’t catch it.