Today was supposed to be a relaxing, post-surgery recovery day; I was going to wear something with a really small arm hole (because I can now that I don’t have a cast), take copious amounts of Vicodin, and lay on the couch. Instead, I watched Bubble Guppies while cleaning up vomit, and forcing spoonfuls of Gatorade into Lira’s mouth.
Now I’m wondering if Zana’s cat-induced pukes from this weekend were really some kind of stomach bug.
“Hey Besa, we’re going to have to close the daycare. The kids are throwing up everywhere and most of the parents have been sick too. We’re asking that you pick up Zana as soon as possible.”
Mystery solved. The cats are off the hook for now. It looks like there’s a stomach bug spreading like wildfire. The daycare will be closed tomorrow so they can disinfect the place, and I’m supposed to let them know if Zana blows chunks again.
Lira is feeling better, although every time she feels a burp coming on she starts crying because she thinks she’s getting sick again. Then she burps, says excuse me (at least I taught her one thing), and then starts giggling. She also won’t go anywhere without a giant bowl, in case she feels sick again.
I never had a stomach virus as a kid–and my mom confirms this. She says people aren’t given more than they can handle and God must have known she couldn’t handle throw-up. By this rationale, my girls get stomach bugs because all the partying in college left me very well equipped to handle these situations. I sprung right into action holding Lira’s hair back so she didn’t get vomit in her lovely locks. Thank you to my friends who prepared me for these precious moments; you know who you are.
Now if only someone had prepared me for daycare closings…