again, we meet around 7 am thursday morning, another bath, another bed change, another load of laundry, another freaked out-not-eating-annie. who could eat with so much liquid poo flying around? we have one more episode thursday evening, the whole routine again.
friday begins, and i practically awake while rolling up my sleeves. two more of the previous situations. i should back up and say that while all this has been going on, jack has been his usual run around, hyper self. he doesn't have a fever, he's not whiney or clingy, and he has an appetite. i called our doctor on thursday, and he recommended not to do pedilyte ('cause most kids won't drink it), feed him how i normally would as this bug just needs to run its course (heavy on the "run"). so back to friday. by now, jack has learned that farts are bad. he comes up to me with a look of terror, "sharts" and off we go.
i have an appointment friday afternoon at 1:30. by 12:45, he's still not up from his nap, so i quietly roust the bubba. we change a non-explosive diaper, get all dressed and are about to step foot in the garage, until... bubba farts. i pause. his teeny stomach gurgles. i set him down and wait. because i know how fun it is to change him at home, i'm running through the scenario in my head of being at the state farm office with my own little claim. i decide to cancel my appointment and wait out the storm brewing. my intuition proves right as 30 minutes later, we're tubbin' it, and i notice his diaper rash not only has spread to his thighs, but to his tiny weiner, the bottom of his belly and around to his back. it's warm to the touch and redder than those monkey's arse at the mn zoo. he goes back to bed. he sleeps for 5 hours. (this proves to me that he's not feeling the greatest. obviously.)
once he wakes, i realize we need to grab some things at the store. i'm feeling somewhat ok about leaving the house as he hasn't had anything to eat for several hours. as we're walking around fred meyer, he stops his clapping (he loves being in the shopping cart) and gives me a look. a very familiar look. then come the farts. not one series, but three separate series of multiple farts. i pick up my pace, grab my last few items and head to the check out. i carefully pull up his sweatshirt and notice he has butt-pee running down the leg of his pants. i ask for an extra plastic bag as we exit. i line his car seat, flop him into it, and we're driving home; the bathtub is our only destination.
ohhh, the redness. not only is he sitting in a tub of that soothing-wash-time-vapor-rub shtuff, but i also break out the epsom salt. can't hurt. he soaks for 20 minutes, and i think he can prune no more. i should mention that on my way home, i called mr. jack's nana for some ideas. she suggested bananas, which he consumed while soaking. she also said it'd be a good idea to let him air dry for a bit before i slap on another diaper. so against my better judgment, i do. we're in the laundry room (thank the good Lord), i've got my back to him, but i hear a very familiar sound, again. a sound that is not quite as loud as if it were echoed in a toilet but all the less, a familiar sound. i turn around and jack is standing there, wide-legged, naked, with a half smile, gosh-that-feels-better-look. back to the tub, back to the changing table, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
i checked on him through the night; no poopies and he woke up clean. so that banana definitely did the trick. nanas know best. he had plain toast and applesauce for breakfast and still no business. i also did some heavy praying last night for a little relief for the bubba. so that combination should carry me to safety. i hope.
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