15 different outfits, 175 diapers, 37 wash clothes, 4 packages of wipes, 3 bottles of Pedialyte, 4 different sets of crib sheets, 16 loads of laundry and a partridge in a pear tree. This weekend was a nightmare. It was the parents worst nightmare when it comes to the being sick nightmare… the one where everyone in the house is emitting some sort of fluid from all parts of the body… front and back.
Baby sick… not good… Stress Level: High
Baby and Dad sick… Stress Level: Panic
Baby, Dad and Mom sick… Stress Level: DEFCON 1
I hate being sick… I hate puking more than anything else in the world. I would rather have my fingernails pulled off by a pair of pliers than puke. Add to that, that Stephanie was sick and you have a household in trouble. Factor in that Jax has been blowing through diapers faster than Bernie Madoff blows through peoples money and you have a major problem.
The feeling of helplessness when your little guy is sick sucks. I know I’ve discussed this on my blog before… but when you physically can not get out of bed yourself, it makes for a compounded issue. (Are you starting to see the theme here? This weekend’s sickness was stress on top of other normal stress on top of stressful stress.)
Thank goodness for parents… If it wasn’t for Mima and Grandpa Pete coming to the rescue on Sunday and taking Jax for the day, Buster and Max might have been left as Head of Household… and thank goodness for Grammy coming up and literally Lysol the entire house as well.
I can not remember laying in bed and sleeping longer than I did this weekend in my entire life. For two days I digested approximately three ounces of chicken broth, four teaspoons of rice and maybe two bites of saltines. So much for all that weight lifting to get ready for bikini season, huh?! I feel awful for the little guy… he couldn’t keep anything down. But the pediatricians says: “Don’t worry… you just have to ride it out!”
Ohh that’s it? Ok no problem… BLOG OVER
Here is a look at about three hours of outfit changes