Where the sick things are

Bella shared the contents of her stomach with our kitchen floor on Thursday. And so began four days of delicate scheduling, careful manipulation of bowls and plastic pads, and trying to cage a wild animal.

We cleaned Bella up Friday night, laid down with her to make sure she wouldn't get sick again, and then prepared for what could've been a long (and disgusting) Friday. But she was in tip-top shape when she woke up the next morning - well, minus choice diaper after choice diaper. Normally she refuses to eat and I have to trick her into drinking her breakfast, but now that I was worried about her sensitive tummy, she cried and begged and railed at the world with raised fist over "Chockit Meeyilk! Peease Mama? Peease I have some chockit meeyilk?!" (Yes, here she is all sad and defeated that even her big brother laid down in solidarity before he headed off to school.)

So of course I made a small sippy with a teaspoon of jello powder mixed with a lot of water, which she took a sip of and promptly threw back at me indignantly before collapsing in a pile of pitiful tears at my feet (likely to make me forget she just threw a cup at me). I made just a teeny tiny cup of chocolate milk for her (because would she survive without it?) and let her curl up in my lap to drink it. But then my sister came in and gave me the stink eye for giving milk to a child with an upset tummy, so I tried to take it back.

Big mistake. My child is part evil. She will (and probably has) shank a fool. You don't toy with her emotions and live to tell the tale. So after hurtling herself around the room and leaving a wake of destruction, she spotted where I'd hid the cup, snatched it up, and snarled at me like a feral kitten before finding a dark corner in which to have her way with the cup.

And that's how our weekend went. There was some point at which I threw my hands up and said screw it. I'm going to roll with the punches and if she wants an m&m as her reward for putting that toxic waste in the potty instead of her diaper, I'm giving it to her! And if she wants to get out of this house, I'm taking her! I do wish I'd had a Bella-sized roll of plastic wrap for the blow-outs, but we all survived, and that's the lesson.

Today is Sunday and we've had no "mocha latte" diapers as my sister likes to call them (yes, I'll wait until you finish gagging). Bellabug consumed a whole bowl of strawberry "meal" for breakfast and then asked to pee on the potty. She's asked me 800 times to "do pussels" but hasn't tried to break my knee caps when I told her she'd have to wait a few minutes. We're moving slowly, but plan to get hair cuts and do some visiting today.

The wild animal has gone back to sleep now that the prospect of the cage is put away. This was Bella's first real sickness, so I don't think either of us knew how to handle it but apparently this child doesn't wait for cabin fever to set it. She goes on the offensive from jump and refuses to just sit still awhile so that whatever bug she had could run its course. I hope that she learns to go easy on herself some day, but for now I'm just thankful that we've both survived four days of sick alone together in our little home.

And as you can tell from this photo, there will always be something a little wild hiding just behind the surface of my little girl.