Sick baby

Today we experienced something that will happen a gajillion times more, but is the most heart wrenching thing ever: your sick child.

Ramis was getting the tires put on the car and I was preparing stir fry for dinner with Summer at home. Summer was suddenly being overly whiny and I didn't really understand why. She had her toys and she was fed, so I wasn't sure what was going on. I stopped cooking and played with her, assuming she wanted some attention. We read books, played with a few of her favorites, but she was still pouty. I picked her up and she was STILL pouty. Uh-oh, something was wrong. She never pouts when we hold her. So, I took her outside: the only thing ever that gets her to stop crying altogether. We walked around, picked some fruit, found some birds, touched some leaves, and came back inside. I thought maybe she was a little hungry, so I was about to cut some cheese while holding her and I turned towards her and heave HO... all over mommy and baby on the kitchen floor. I never could have predicted how calm I would be and how content I would be walking around the house dancing and hugging among vomit stained clothing. Inconsequential, at best. We got changed into cleaner clothes, got cleaned up and Daddy came home.

Summer seemed in better spirits, so we started to slowly feed her food, but I'll let you guess how that ended. We ended up putting her to bed with nothing but mama's milk, and she was just fine with that.

This is the thing that struck me: several weeks ago, I suffered from the stomach flu with the same symptoms as Summer. I am a tough cookie as far as illness and pain are concerned, but throwing up (which I rarely do) knocked me off my feet. Watching my daughter vomit all over us brought me back to those moments when I was in her shoes (or sockies) and I felt extreme empathy. She cried; we hugged and cuddled and she felt better. But, then 5 minutes later, she was giggling and playing! She had the greatest spirit about her despite her icky feeling. I LOOOOOOVE that! Adults aren't like that; certainly, teenagers are not like that. But, my Summer IS like that.... and I love that. [Fingers crossed that it was only a "was"...]