Perhaps this was inevitable and forseeable to everyone else, but the winery road trip was cut seriously short with a sudden fever spike and copious vomiting (Maggie) and a need for a total wardrobe change (me and Tom). Unfortunately we were all the way out in Loudon County at the time and had to make our way back to Columbia with our sicky-sick little puppy girl. She dozed off and on like a smoldering little lump next to me on the bed from the late afternoon until about midnight with a brief period where she wanted to play around eight, and then slept hard from midnight to ten this morning.
I feel really guilty and awful. I had no idea the flight and jet lag and moving around so much would be so physically hard for her. People travel with kiddos all the time. But I should have, I should have known, or at least thought about the possibility. She was so pitiful last night, fever-bright and glassy-eyed in a little ball next to me, allowing me to rub her back and belly and snuggling up in a way that she never would if she were totally well. Maggie managed to throw up on her dad and then when he passed her off, she got sick on me. I think it says a lot about the thresholds you’re willing to cross as a parent when you whisper soothingly “Okay honey, there there, get it all up–throw up into my shirt, get as much as you can on me and not the floor.”
And oh, GAH, I am so frustrated with her total and utter refusal to use a cup or bottle! Maggie has gone from seeming to not understand the purpose of a cup to flat-out shunning them. At best she flips the cup and absently chews on the bottom, unmindful of the liquid flying everywhere; at worst she pushes the cup away while crying. Only twice has she voluntarily put a cup to her lips and shown interest in consuming the contents. So no cool water or helpful Pedialyte for my little red-hot, and we’re nursing a ton to keep her hydrated.
She’s almost completely rejecting all solid foods in favor of nursing, too. I’m guessing her belly is feeling sensitive and since she can’t articulate that, she’s rejecting solids (either by throwing them on the floor animatedly or pushing spoons away with lips sealed tight) until she feels right again.
We noticed her nap schedule regressing to two naps a day almost immediately upon arrival, and now she’s nursing at a rate that I haven’t seen since she was five or six months old. Her poor little body is trying the best ways it knows to heal itself and try to recover and we feel absolutely terrible for her. We didn’t know. But we should have.
And now reading back over this, I’m starting to get paranoid that we’re raising a total brat-tastic kid with the pushing away the food and cups and screaming when we try to get her to use a glass but that’s just how tired I am. She’s not even eleven months old, she’ll use a cup eventually and usually her diet is fantastic. This is just a weird period, compounded by one of my first bouts of capital-G Guilt about a decision that we’ve made. Being Daddy and Mommy Monkeys is a hard job.