Seven Days and Seven Nights…

Sadly not a Cruise
around the fair Greek islands
in a red sarong.

Seven Days and Nights
spent watching over fevered
children in their beds.

Seven days of tears
seven nights of sleeplessness
Mommy needs a break.

(See more Haiku’s)

Monkey began the long week with Strep last Friday, and stayed home sick and miserable through Tuesday morning. Just as I sent her off to school and snuggled down with the wee babe, he spiked a fever of 104, and has been battling it ever since. As I indicated in last night’s dreary post, he has the flu.

So here I am, peeking around the corner at another weekend, having survived five straight days home alone with ill children. I am a little worn out, very sleep deprived, and I swear dehydrated. It feels like the baby is trying to nurse every drop of liquid out of my body.

All night long he clung to me, nursing away his misery and illness. I know the doctor said to limit his nursing, but after trying to calm him every other way I know, I went with my gut and just gave him the boob. I don’t think having a flu ridden baby scream for two hours is better for him than breastmilk. The only thing he might do is throw up more, but so far, he has kept it down.

I would be unsurprised if Monkey comes down with the flu, and if she does, I am going to slam my head into the nearest desk, hard.

We are completely out of easy to prepare food, as I have not made it to the store in a week, so I am stuck cooking serious dishes from scratch. I don’t even have any brownie mix!! I am also almost out of diaper wipes, as my month Costco trip was put off due to illness.

I am going to have to venture out to the Wegman’s today, or find a delivery service for these items. Hmmm…. I wonder if anything I need could be sent to me via Amazon, we have free shipping.

Is it gauche to order one’s groceries online?

Le influenza…

Otter has had a high fever (around 104) for the past two days. He has been to the pediatrician twice. Today, he and I spent six hours in the local ER. That is where we discovered my little man has the flu.

I am still recovering from having to lay down on top if his legs and torso while the nurse probes his baby chubby wrists and hands, ankles and feet for a vein. After three attempts,she got his line in his little foot, and 8 ounces of saline was coursing through that line into his system.

Six and a half hours later we are home, snuggled up with orders to lower the breastmilk intake and increase the pedialite. The only problem? He won’t drink the pedialite, and he wants the breastmilk.

I understand the instructions were intended to help his little tummy settle and limit or halt further vomiting, but I would rather he drink something, and get thrown up on, than have him drink nothing.

Well, he woke up, so I am off to bed. See you tomorrow. With a flu stricken baby, I will likely see no one but you, my darling blog friends, for quite some time.