Happy 7 month birthday, George!
Monday, July 13, 2009
I spent all weekend elbow deep in baby poo. Lucky me. Honestly, I felt lucky that it wasn't vomit. (Side note: Chuck taught Luke various words for throw up, because Luke informed Chuck that vomit is another word for throw up. Chuck informed him that there are many words for throw up. Luke learned "blow chunks." Classy). Anyhow, George is fully over his virus, but is experiencing the side effect of having to rebuild his stomach. He is now on special soy formula for diarrhea, probiotic cereal, and pedialyte. He is also limited to carrots, sweet potatoes, and bananas. After the third day on the diarrhea formula, he will have to be on a plain soy formula for two weeks. Apparently, he can't digest lactose anymore and we have to work him up to it. Chuck and I have been up at 3:00 a.m. the last two nights changing sheets, stripping our stinky, poopy kid and bathing the poor little boy. Then we stick a soy bottle in his mouth and put him back to sleep. We're on day number 6 of nasty diapers. If it is still going tomorrow, I have to take him in to the doctor so they can do a culture or something on a stool sample. Isn't it amazing what we parents have to do? This certainly wasn't the picture perfect parental experience I had in mind when I got pregnant for the first time. But, ah, it is worth it even at 3:00 a.m. when that precious (but stinky and nasty) boy grins at us as we strip him out of his poop-soaked clothes. Pure parental joy, right?