Puke Wars: The virus strikes back


[picapp align=”right” wrap=”true” link=”term=sick+boy&iid=106440″ src=”0102/6b5c0770-f158-4076-9193-2b0b399c4075.jpg?adImageId=10064451&imageId=106440″ width=”234″ height=”351″ /]Oh dear, we have not had a good few days over here.

On Thursday night hubby flew off to Belfast to see his family. The kids and I had a vague plan of popping to the interchange retail park on Friday morning, spending Friday night at my parents’ house and then going shopping with my parents on Saturday before heading home ready for Daddy to return sometime before midnight.

Friday morning did not see me happy. Ben had been out of his bed 6 times. Each time I had cruelly (in his opinion) refused to cuddle him back to sleep. Feeling groggy and slightly ratty I was not terribly impressed when Ciaran brought up his morning bottle over me. Nice.

Washing machine on, kids washed and dressed my Mum picked us up and we headed to the interchange, as a treat for good behaviour I took the boys to McDonalds. We only go once every 2nd or 3rd month so I try not to worry about the effects of the food when we are there.

Lunch over (Ciaran had decided chips were better than carrot sticks and had enjoyed shoving chips into his mouth) we headed home. Mum took Ben to her house to do some arts and crafts stuff while Ciaran and I napped at our house and went to theirs with the overnight bag in time for tea.

Ben shared a double bed with me as there weren’t stair gates and I was worried about him getting up in the night to look for me and falling downstairs. He fidgetted all night, drawing his knees up to his tummy a few times, probably the result of over eating I decided as I tried for the umpteenth time to go back to sleep.

At quarter to seven I heard Ben cough and then heard an ominous rumbling from his tummy. We sprinted to the loo and my brave boy was sick into the toilet for the first time. My Mum helped me mop up the little bits and keep Ben calm and then we went downstairs to get some water and start the day. We all assumed this was the result of eating ridiculous amounts on Friday. An hour later as I fed Ciaran, Ben was sick in the kitchen (into a large blue bowl). Oh dear – maybe not just over-indulgences…

A third puke sealed the deal. He was poorly and wouldn’t be going shopping. Mum and Dad took Ciaran out with them shopping and I stayed at home with Ben. Between pukes he was very happy and lively. While my parents were gone he managed to cover nearly every surface with vomit and decided he didn’t appreciate having the blue bowl pushed in his face.

After lunch Ben fell asleep on the nappy mat mid nappy change. He woke up a minute later as his stomach decided lying down wasn’t a good idea and was spectacularly sick. This pattern repeated itself all afternoon. Exhausted toddler is cajouled into lying down, covered in a blanket, fidgets and pukes. At one point Ben woke up to see me diving across the room with a bowl in my hands and simply screamed. We stripped the spare bed twice that afternoon.

He also suffered the misery of being hungry and thirsty, every time he picked up his cup he was adminished to have little sips not big sips, his pleads for food fell on deaf ears and he was a grumbly poorly boy. I started to feel queasy which I put down to exhaustion and the effect of seeing so much puke. My parents suggested that I stay there for the night again so that they could help me with the kids before they left for dinner. I greatfully took them up on this and texted hubby to say I wouldn’t be home.

After my Mum and Dad left the whole evening went pearshaped. My chest was thumping and my stomach churning. Ciaran woke up screaming blue murder, was happy being cuddled and screamed when put back in his cot. After ten minutes of screaming I decided that I’d had enough and wasn’t in a fit state to pop up and down the stairs every ten minutes and brought him downstairs.

The exertion was too much for me and I went to be sick leaving the kids in the lounge. I came back to find Ciaran happily playing with his feet and Ben half asleep on the sofa. I called it a night there and then at 8pm. Both kids were ushered upstairs with water for me and Ben and the potty bowl ready for pukey incidents. It was me who puked. I ran to the loo and brought up the water I’d carefully sipped.

Bugger – I had noro virus too. Thankfully Ben was sleeping calmly and still and had been for an hour so I took this as a sign that he was over the worst and thanked God that it was just me who had caught it.

At 2 in the morning I heard a small cough and gurgle come from Ciaran in the next bedroom (us Mummy’s have super sonic hearing where our children are concerned) swearing I sprinted into his room to see the inevitable. Ciaran was lying there looking shocked with bits of granary toast stuck all over his face, sleeping bag, cots sheet and clothes.

At this point my brain gave up. I didn’t have a spare cot sheet at my Mum’s. I didn’t have a spare sleeping bag or sleep suit and then Ben got up and demanded to go downstairs. Reluctantly I woke my parent’s up and begged for help. Mum found Ciaran a clean t-shirt to sleep in, stripped the cot and stopped Ben absconding downstairs. We then put Ciaran in the spare bed with me, while Mum took Ben to my sisters bed to sleep. Ciaran was sick again (this time over the towels we had placed on the bed as a pre-emptive measure) so we decided that we needed to do something else.

We set up a bed in the lounge – a duvet folded in half so that Ciaran and I could lie down. My Mum very kindly offered to take this honour so that I could actually get some sleep with Ben and hopefully settle my churning tummy. Feeling like the worlds most neglectful Mother I left Ciaran with his Nanny and cuddled up to my toddler.

The next morning amazingly both boys were fine. I’d only been sick once more in the night and the Ben was delighted to be allowed some toast at last, Ciaran guzzled his water and fell asleep in my arms until their Daddy came to take us all home, installing me under a duvet on the sofa so that I could rest and offering the children toast and rich tea biscuits to help their tummies recover.

Monday morning we all woke up and were all well, my parents and husband had avoid the noro virus, the kids were well and happy, I managed to eat a bowl of porrige and have milk in my tea without heaving so hubby and I took the kids to Milton Keynes.

I planed to get some accesories for my new work clothes. I initially went to Clare’s not realising that a lady of my age (pushing 30 very hard) should not be in a shop aimed at teeny boppers. We ambled along took Ben to ELC to spend his vouchers (Daddy selected a football goal and cricket set for him) and had a pizza hut buffet – I know junk food is a bad thing but I figured we’d all lost enough weight.

Ben tucked into the salad and garlic bread, discarding his pizza, Ciaran loved the garlic bread and carrot sticks and was delighted to have cous cous and sweetcorn spooned in. We discovered that Daddy had packed a bottle of milk instead of a sippy cup of water, so he gave Ciaran some of Ben’s blackcurrant fruit shoot. Not a good idea.

We got home and I looked in on my relative with a poorly noro virus baby. Headed home and after discovering the blackcurrant fruit shoot had given Ciaran a very busy bottom, settled down to bed. In the night I heard Ciaran cry but he went back to sleep after two minutes, a few hours later I heard his Dad sprinting across the landing to the loo. Oh dear. Daddy had noro virus.

Both kids were woken up so I started settling Ben and then went to settle Ciaran. I picked him up in the dark nursery and noticed he felt damp, cold and sticky. I turned the light on and found that the little cry earlier had been him throwing up. Once again I was stripping a cot and child. I didn’t want to risk him being sick in his sleep so with a little help from poorly Daddy I got the (re-covered) cot mattress downstairs, put it on the floor next to a folded up duvet and settled down for a bad nights sleep.

So here we are…. hand wash and disinfactant a go-go. Ciaran seems to be better. He wasn’t sick again and his tummy seems to be settling. He devoured his toast this morning. I feel sick but this is likely to be either psychosomatic or exhaustion as the NHS informs me that I will be immune for 14 weeks.

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2 Comments

Filed under 2 year old child, Baby, illness

2 responses to “Puke Wars: The virus strikes back

  1. Oh no you poor things. Hope you’re all feeling better. Sounds like a total nightmare!

  2. worldofamummy

    hi CIMH – it was a nightmare and the house smelled of puke for a long time – we’re all better now and ready to take on the world again (I’m having to hide my valentines day choc’s from Ben so he’s much better now!)

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