Playdates & Petri Dishes

It is my completely unscientifically based theory that breastfeeding sucks (ha) all the immunity out of you, and gives it to your baby. Which, hey, I’m doing all of this for that exact reason, I don’t want him to ever be sick, ever ever. But holy crap, can I NOT be sick for a few days?

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am freaking sick. AGAIN. I’ve seriously been sick three times since Thanksgiving, with different, crazy random shit that lands me in the ER. And this time, I’m pretty sure it was something I picked up at Xavier’s playdate on Wednesday. Children are disgusting little petri dishes and carry around more diseases than a third world prostitute. Or your mom. Last Wednesday, I found myself in a room full of cute little germbombs.

If I’m being perfectly honest, I don’t know how much Xavier got out of it. He pretty much just sat in his bumbo and watched the older kids.

And tried to steal his Bumbo Buddy Andrew’s stuff.

And drooled a lot.

The three older kids got a bit more, learning to share and stuff. But mostly, it was nice for the moms to have a chance to chat.

I know, it’s a LOT of cuteness huh?

But under the cuteness, evil lurks. An evil deathplague that attacked four adults and five children this weekend. Highly contagious, apparently. Friday night, it claimed it’s first victim, keeping the dad of one child up all night praying to the porcelain gods. Saturday, it set in around the rest of that household. Sunday I went to work, fine and dandy. Sunday night, I started feeling a big queasy at around 6 ish. I barely finished my dinner, not feeling right.

By 8 pm, I was feeding Xavier his bedtime bottle when I told John “I’m going to need you to take him, right now. I need to go vomit.”

And so I did. And I continued as such until around 3 am. Oh it was awful. PAINFUL. I always forget how much puking sucks. It really sucks though. At 2, John got up to check on me, and I laid there on the couch, moaning, with the trash barrel next to me just in case. He was all “Aww poor thing, this sucks!”

By four, he’s on the bathroom floor himself. The shit sets in FAST.  He didn’t leave the bathroom until approximately 9 am. It was HORRID.

Mercifully, Xavier and my mom appear to have been spared. Monday night, Xavier woke up 3x and just wanted to be held, but other than that he seems okay. Please let it stay that way, because I just can’t imagine a poor little baby going through the horror that was inflicted upon us.

I really need to look into some immunity boosting hippie shit or something. I can’t keep doing this. Also, need a hippie cure for Roxie’s arthritis. Any of my dog owner friends had any luck with things like acupuncture or water therapy? The Rimadyl is working but I worry about her liver & kidneys. More on that later, someone just woke up.

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