Every Saturday I bring you a parenting mistake my husband and I have made. Please have a laugh or cry at our expense — we really are good parents, I swear.
Typically, Nora bounces back from illness pretty quickly. So, my mistake this week involves over-estimating her immune system, under-estimating the nastiness of the Coxsackie virus, and paying the price by being repeatedly soaked in vomit.
Nora loves to eat, as I believe I’ve mentioned before. During the worst part of her illness, she had virtually no appetite, so when she started asking for food, I assumed she was on the mend and an appetite meant she could hold down food. Silly me. Every time I thought she had turned the corner, she’d puke again. I took her back in to the doctor’s office on Wednesday and got a scolding for starting her on solids again too quickly. I explained that the discharge instructions from the emergency room said eating was an important part of rehydration and she should not “rest the bowels.” The not-our-regular-doctor doctor told me that actually meant that I shouldn’t be feeding her and they were saying the same thing he was, but using the words differently. Huh? He also gave me a list of things she could have, which included stuff I’d never give her when she’s healthy like Gatoraide and Seven-Up. I wrote him off as an old-school quack, but did return to more conservative foods, like broth and saltines.
On Wednesday night, I made a steak dinner for Ben and I. Nora registered her protest by giving me the stink eye and stacatto moaning, “AH! AH! AH!” through the entire meal. By Thursday morning she was saying she felt better just so I’d give her some cereal and strawberries.
She was so desperate for real food she nearly threw a Pedialite popsicle at me. Thankfully, naptimes were lengthened. They were my only respite.