Make It Stop

Many loads of laundry.

Warning: put down your muffin before reading this post. There will be a discussion of vomit, and it won't be pleasant.


Kate woke up yesterday in a pretty good mood. She sat down for breakfast and after drinking most of her milk, let out a horrendous burp and then threw up all that she had ingested. I thanked God that she was still in her high chair and that the tray caught most of the action. I'm still amazed at how big her stomach is. I calmly walked to the bathroom and started the tub, came back and undressed her in her chair, and took her to the tub and placed her into the water.


Last night she was having some trouble sleeping, and after she woke up for about the 3rd time, we gave her some Motrin, thinking she was teething. Tim rocked her for a long time, and then she fully woke up, good mood and all, wanting to play. We finally got her back to bed, thinking it was going to be a long night. She slept fine.


Tim's back on days now, and had to be to work at 5am. I heard Kate wake up briefly when he left, and hoped that she would go back to sleep. She did, and so did I. Then at about 6:40, she woke up and started talking. I usually can let her talk until about 7am before guilt sets in, so I pulled the covers over my shoulders and prepared to sleep for another 20 minutes. Then I heard crying, followed immediately by retching. Uh-oh.


Poor kid. She doesn't know what is going on. I ran into her room, saw the mess and went to the tub to start the water. She hadn't even had breakfast yet. Normally she loves baths, but I think she's starting to dislike them. She had a nice warm bath, finally cheering up towards the end. I got her dressed and fed her some breakfast. She didn't eat much, but seemed in a good mood. I thought I'd take advantage of this and head to the commissary because we were almost out of milk, and I was starting to think along the lines of 'saltines, 7-up and chicken soup', none of which we had. We got home, I fed her lunch and then it started all over again. This time with me in tears, dialing the squadron ops desk to tell Tim that he needed to not hang out after work (just in case he was planning on that) and needed to come home as soon as he was done. Line busy. Maybe that's when the tears started. Or maybe it was when Kate wouldn't stop screaming. Or when I walked down the hall to the tub yet again to start the water. Or perhaps when I realized that her crib wasn't made yet and I couldn't just bathe her and put her down for a nap. Luckily I'd had the wherewithall to put the sheets in the dryer before we went out. I gave Kate another bath, did a half-assed job of making the bed (do you know how hard it is to make a crib when you're 8+ months pregnant??), and got her down for her nap. I hope she gets better soon. Especially if Tim and I are both going to get it, too, like Katie's family did.