Playing outside a little.
We headed down to the farm for Thanksgiving and had a wonderful weekend, overall. Our friends, Claire, Martin, and Diane, joined us to experience a "real" American Thanksgiving. And they did. It was really comfy and we certainly ate too much and moved too little!
A trip to the barn, and sit on the skid-steer. We tried to pose it so it looked like Elliot was scooping up Diane, but she was so pissed about the mittens that it was a failed attempt.
Ah, and yet again, no photos of the big gathering. Bleh.
Elliot, however, did not have such a great weekend. He picked up his first stomach bug (from me from school? Diane? Who knows and you can't really know...) and this is basically how it went down, since you all are so interested in the play-by-play, I'm sure.
Monday, Elliot sleeps in until 11am. Unheard of. Then does not nap and tantrums most of the day.
Tuesday, Renee reported that he had not eaten much of anything all day long but napped long. Tuesday evening, he vomits for Pat but proceeds to be in a great mood, no other symptoms, and plays wonderfully on his own until bathtime. Huh. So we chalked it up to something he ate.
Wednesday, he eats a little but keeps it down all day, no other symptoms beyond normal toddler tantrums, and we head out for the farm in Ohio at bedtime. He sleeps great, normal bedtime in the car, but wakes when we stop for gas around 10pm, vomits again all over himself. We do a quick change in a scummy BP station. He stays up practically until we get to mom and dad's at 2am (**STILL SHAKING FISTS AT NIGHT PAVING AND TORRENTIAL DOWNPOURS**).
Thursday, the diarrhea starts. Lovely. Luckily we packed extra diapers, as always! He does pretty well with all the hooplah with Thanksgiving dinner and kids galore, while I battle the guilt over spreading these germs. Again, no other symptoms, and considering the diarrhea, he is doing well. But doesn't eat much.
Friday, we start to realize that we're going to run out of diapers. He only gets an hour nap after falling asleep in the car on the way to the Tearoom, and Grandpa holds him for that hour. Wakes up a mess. By now, his little bum is completely red with rawness. Continues to whine, cry all afternoon, not listening to any reason that just because he is miserable, does he have to make everyone miserable? while getting lots of snuggles from me. Any diaper change (which is really often) is torture. I thought his bath on Friday night would be warm and soothing, but Elliot puts his arms out to brace himself, stands up, squeezes his little buns together, and so pitifully cries as if to say, "Mom, how could you do this to me?!" It broke my heart. Up twice that night, dirty.
After multiple changes that resulted in crying fits over the fire I'm sure his rash was causing, he would lay there like this, worn out and resigned to the fact that he would have to experience this each time. So sad.
Saturday morning, he turns a corner and thank goodness, his little spark returns. Finally we have our Elliot back. At this point, however, we've gone backwards on any progress made with warming up to Grandma and Grandpa because he got a free pass to snuggle with mom whenever he wanted. We head back to Chicago. We are blessed with a 12-hour stint of no poop and squeeze by on our last diaper (our friends had loaned us plenty of backups, in the next size up), only to have him fill it with a doozy 2 miles from home. I'll take it, no problem. Appetite is a bit better.
Taking a snack in the car on the way home.
By this time, you, the reader, is thinking, "Oh my god, TMI." Unless you're a mom and have gone through this. This is my therapy.
Elliot's little routine once home was to go around, playing with, hugging, and showing off each of his favorite toys, as well as doing his little bouncy dance move with every musical toy. It was as if he had been homesick. We followed him around, cracking up.
We had an experiment going-- we made a photo album of Grandma and Grandpa Ulrich, and Grandpa and Nancy Papczun, and have been quizzing Elliot on them. The hope is that he is warmer to them when he sees them, and he really seemed to be. If he hadn't been sick, I think some real, lasting bonding would have happened with Grandma and Grandpa U. Let's see what happens at Christmas. We have to add in uncles and aunts, too, now.
My brother's kids were going to their other side, so they swung by for breakfast and a quick wrestling match that ended up with Uncle Pat getting a bloody nose...