I've had exceptionally healthy children until this month. We've literally had two trips to the doctor that weren't "Well Baby" check-ups: Elliot's tumble off the bed this year, and an urgent care trip to treat Maya's flu last year.
This means I'm terribly unprepared to deal with the stomach flu. All morning Maya's body twisted and clenched in pain nearly every 15 minutes. She looked so scared and sad when she looked at me in between pangs and said, "Mama, get me some medicine so this goes away." Of course, I couldn't do anything to help her beyond providing cool washcloths, soothing words, and an endless stream of Noggin.
Now she's more comfortable, and we're following the nurse's instruction for hydration: a teaspoon of water every 15 minutes. In a few hours she'll graduate to broth, and then maybe a noodle or two.
Yesterday I rambled on about our transition from overwhelmed-family-with-new-baby to normal life.
In my life with little kids, the "Holy Crap" or more gentile "What am I Supposed to Do Now" phase comes back to haunt me all too often!
Luckily, Elliot hasn't caught it.... Yet.