The best thing about daycare is the hot bed of germs my girls are exposed to on a daily basis. No, I’m not kidding. It might put them at immediate risk, but it does wonders for their immune system.
I fully believe this and stand by my convictions. Until they bring home a stomach bug. Then I might curse the hotbed of germs. Last week I watched kid after kid succumb to the big ol’ bug (though I suspect some were diagnosed as the result of mass hysteria) and I took home healthy kids every evening. I washed hands carefully and touched a lot of wood and we all stayed healthy. Until yesterday.
Little L woke up with a low grade fever and I kept her home. Her appetite kind of tanked as the day wore on, but she stayed chipper and I blamed a threatening tooth. Then (as I went on my adventure) she wailed and complained about pains in her tummy. Or at least that’s what M surmised what with all the writhing and griping going on. She woke up to eat at the usual time, but ate very little and went back down easily. She woke up shortly after and I pulled her into our bed, where, an hour later, she returned her midnight meal.
“Did she just puke?!” Mark demanded, sitting up in bed.
“Uh, yeah, all over the place.”
“Do you need a wipe?”
“Actually I need some light so I can assess the damage.”
“But do you need a wipe?” My still confused husband asked.
“Not yet, right now I really need some light. Please just turn it on.”
Once the light was on I realized the situation wasn’t as dire as I had originally thought. I cleaned up the baby and the bed and spent an hour trying to get her back to sleep, and as I rocked and rocked and rocked my stomach started feeling more and more crampy. By the morning I was definitely not myself, but I had no choice; I had to be at work today. So I packed up the kids, dropped them off at daycare, and headed to the office. Where I proceeded to stave off nausea by nibbling on graham crackers all day.
Little L is still not herself. We’ve already gone through two changes of clothes since she got home, but at least she’s sleeping, and I’d be smart to follow suit. Wish me luck. The night could be really, really long.