#ToddlerFlu

Bryan told me Saturday’s blog post should be titled, “Kid Puke.” {He clearly doesn’t read my blog if he thinks I post on the weekend!} He’s not too bad at writing post titles. It’s direct and to the point. You’re not left wondering what the content will be. Over the years he’s mentioned that we should become a team. He could supply me with content and I could write. Books that is. I’m not sure my brain could handle the things bouncing around in his.

Anyway. That has nothing to do with kid puke and I understand if you click that small X in the upper corner.

Our weekend was full of it. Kid Puke that is. It started at 2 am on Saturday morning. Ironically, or as horrible luck would have it, I finally went to bed at 1:15. And woke up to Maximus screaming in his room. I quickly made it to his room and he was sitting in his bed sobbing. Thankful that the monitor was still in his room, I quietly said one word. Bryan. Here’s a little nugget of information, Bryan always puts on a t-shirt and shorts when he leaves our room. I have no idea why he does it, boxers are clothes, right? Maybe because it’s cold once you open our door. Either way, my husband heard the tone of my whisper and he was there in two seconds, without putting on extra clothes. I think I had gotten Maximus out of bed into the middle of the floor. If I recall, I also starting taking off his pjs. I was in mommy mode before I fully woke up and realized that chances were pretty high that he had the flu and I shouldn’t be around him.

Bryan got supplies to clean up the mess and take over. Bless his heart, he picked up the chunks. EWWW! Maximus was fully awake and had calmed down, but was adamant that he was done sleeping. At 2 am, he put on jeans and a polo shirt. We couldn’t even get him to wear sweats! The last thing we were going to do was argue with a sick toddler at 2 am! There wasn’t a lot of sleep to be had that night. Bryan was up with Maximus about every 2 hours and the longest stretch I got was after I left them. It was a glorious 2 1/2 hours of sleep.

The rest of the weekend is an account that Bryan has relayed to me via text messages from another part of the house. I am so thankful for a wonderful husband who steps up without so much as a word from me. A man who convinces me to leave the house to get away so he can take care of the sick boy and bleach the house. He’s done countless loads of laundry, doing a bleach cycle in between each. He’s done so much disinfecting before I’ve even thought or mentioned it.

Around 8 or 9 am on Saturday, Maximus threw up for the last time. We thought we had been lucky, until he woke from his nap at 2 pm. Sure enough, he’d thrown up again. Unfortunately, Bryan had gone to pick up Quinten’s last piece of nursery furniture and was gone for the next two hours. This was not ideal for me, but I managed to get him changed and disinfect myself before I had to handle Quinten.

You know where this is going, right? He didn’t throw up again until 5:30 that night. We thought we were past it after that. Until he woke up sobbing at 1:30 am. And then one more time around 2:30. Both times he wanted to be sick, but didn’t have anything to throw up. He got up for the day around 7 am. Then, he couldn’t keep water down, again. Rinse and repeat. Bryan was on a continuous loop of Mickey Mouse, Maximus fall asleep, Maximus throw up, Maximus drink water, and start over. I was on a continuous loop of feed Quinten, watch tv, check my social media sites, and start over.

Maximus slept most of the day on Sunday. Much more than he did on Saturday. The few times I walked into the kitchen I saw Maximus laying on Bryan. If he was awake he was moaning and moving around. 🙁 We thought we were in the clear, again. Until 3 pm on Sunday when he threw up, again. It’s 10 pm on Sunday night and he hasn’t thrown up in the past 7 hours. He slept until 7 pm and then asked for cereal. Against our wishes, he had two bowls. We hope we don’t see that cereal in the middle of the night. Even though we love Maximus to pieces, we also hope that we don’t see him in the middle of the night. I hope he’s finally kicked this nasty bug.

His face looks so skinny and his belly is gone. I miss cuddling him and being around him in general. He had a few bouts of normalcy this weekend, but the majority of the time he’s been quiet or softly moaning. I’m ready for an active toddler who talks faster than I can listen. And most of all, I’m ready to be in the same room as him without worrying about him getting too close to me!

You didn’t think I could write 800 words about puke, did you?

(At 6 am on Monday, I’m happy to report that Maximus didn’t get up last night! We may be over it!)