How You Can Tell It's My Life

Remember how we were all playing at the beach yesterday?
Everything seemed so nice.
Like it was going better.

Well, what you don't know is that was a 2 hour window when Baby seemed better.

Before that my day started with Baby puking. Then hustling to get the house ready for a morning showing and our trip to visit Kiki at the beach.

I loaded the car with puke supplies:

and we hoped for the best.

Baby didn't ever puke but she was clearly not doing well. She was running a fever and uncomfortable. I fretted and wondered what would be better turning around and handling it all alone in Asheville, or making it to Myrtle Beach and having someone to entertain Kid while I tended to Baby.

I chose the later.

We made it and she perked up. She seemed revived by the beach.

I thought we had made it through the worst.

But then she was moody and irritable and a little feverish that night.

Of course, this is the first trip I've ever taken without my trusted thermometer and tylenol (seriously).

By this morning she was scarily listless and nodding off in a weird coma like state that she couldn't/wouldn't be woken from.

She hadn't peed in over 24 hours and was obviously severely dehydrated.

She finally woke up and came to the table.

Her heart was racing, her hands were shaking, and I was starting to freak the fuck out.

I think I stayed fairly calm on the outside.

She sat down and drank and drank and drank (5 cups back to back).

I was hopeful.

But then she nodded back off and wouldn't stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time.

I got a thermometer and some tylenol and motrin.

No fever.

Still no pee.

Still coma sleeping:

We went to the beach so Kid could play with Kiki (don't worry we were closer to the hospital):

I stripped Baby down and sprinkled water on her body and let the wind keep her cooled. And let her sleep.

I watched her breathing (not strained).

I took her temperature (still broken).

I let her be.

Several hours later it started to rain.

We lugged everything up from the beach.

Baby woke up and seemed better.

Kid gets in the car.

And says:

"My tummy hurts."

It starts over again.

P.S. Baby finally peed (horray! No trip to the ER for her... phew... that was a close one).

P.P.S. If you were thinking that Kid's puke-fest on Tuesday was actually a virus that Baby ended up getting... like I thought... we were both wrong. That was one of her isolated incidents. Today... this.... gallon of strawberry puke (for real, I cannot believe someone's stomach could hold so much) THIS is the virus that Baby has that now Kid has. This is no joke. I cannot wait to get it on the drive home tomorrow.

P.P.P.S Yes I canceled the baby for Monday just in case I can't even get back to Asheville in time. Or in case I'm hugging the toilet by then myself.