A poorly baby; continued.

So after copious amounts of vom and a trip to the doctors, the weekend hailed yet more vom and a good measure of poo. The low point was scrubbing poo off the living room carpet. (Makes a change from cat sick I suppose, I can’t have anything nice.)

After another impressive impression of a water cannon on Sunday evening,  I decided another trip to the local medical centre was in order.

Wills’ nanny works at the surgery,  so he enjoys a sort of celebrity status. He is a massive flirt and adores attention (any change from boring old mummy and daddy) which often makes it seem he is more well than he is. Which in turn can make me appear to be one of those neurotic mothers who rush their children to the doctor at the slightest sniffle. After seeing the doctor (Wills held his had whilst he was listening to his chest and proceeded to have a tantrum when we put the thermometer in his ear as appose to letting him chew it.) we were prescribed rehydration salts and asked to provide a stool sample.

In my infinite ‘mum wisdom’ I thought blackcurrant flavour rehydration salts was the way forward,  a new flavour might encourage him to take them. Couldn’t have been more wrong.  I’ll just add it to the ever growing list of mum fails I’ve perpetrated. Monday was perhaps the most frustrating day because our little foghorn refused all food.

I’ve never really felt helpless with him before, but I did that day. My cousin said to me on Sunday ‘if you could have one wish it would be that you could be poorly for them, just take it away and deal with it’ (He is the proud daddy to three beautiful girls, who have all been poorly and, from what I can gather, are using him as their personal sick bucket. I’m not laughing.  That’s a lie. I am.) I have to say, I agree. A far cry from when I was pregnant, after being told I needed the whooping cough jab to protect the baby I asked why can’t we wait until he’s born and give it to him?  (I’m probably on a list somewhere.)

The good news is that there is finally light at the end of the poo smeared tunnel.  Wills has been eating again,  huzzah!  Tiny amounts but it’s going in and staying in!  Though I may be sporting giant eyebags and garments that most definitely have  a little bit of sick on them somewhere, our little man is on the mend!

And I think I’m getting what he had.

Balls.

In other news:

Wills has his first library card, good news for mummy because he doesn’t get fines for late returns!

The Christmas decorations are up in the Warwick household.  Captain seems intrigued to know what fairy lights taste like.

After being unable to remove Marms from under our bed, I assured hubs that if we let them roam they would definitely not disturb us. A soaking wet Captain climbing on him in the early hours proved me wrong…

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Author: thebumpchroniclesblog

Thirty year old first time mum, sharing parenthood experiences/fails.

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