Boy Oh Boyers

Early yesterday morning, I woke up violently ill. After several hours, I realized I had to go to the hospital because I was dangerously dehydrated. Uncle Tim came over to play with Rowan while Tom drove me to the hospital. Once I was checked in, I sent Tom back home to relieve Tim, who was missing work to stay with Rowan. I spent most of the day at the hospital getting IV fluids and undergoing tests. It turns out I was quite dehydrated. "Your blood is like paste," the nurse said to me. They've decided the most likely diagnosis is some kind of gastrointestinal virus that will run its course in due time. I'm happy to be back home, but I'm still running a fever and having some pretty nasty symptoms, so I can't really go near Rowan. It is SO hard to hear him in the next room playing with his Daddy, laughing or reading books or building something out of Legos, and here I am staring out the window at a dragonfly that has spent the last hour napping on our deck railing. Sigh. I had a pretty rough night (sent Tom upstairs to sleep so I wouldn't disturb him constantly, not to mention spread germs all over him). I wasn't really feeling like getting up at all this morning, but when I found myself lying in bed holding up my thumb and closing one eye to count how many slats were in our bedroom blinds, I decided I had to get up and take a shower for my own sanity. That went well, I've eaten a couple of crackers (my first food in 36 hours) and am still guzzling Gatorade as I've been instructed to do. *Very* happy to be on the mend.

It's plausible that Rowan had a touch of this same virus I now have. Monday morning when he woke up, I went into his room and was nearly knocked down by the smell of what I thought was a serious good-morning poopie diaper. Imagine my surprise when I went to pick him up out of his crib and there was a pile of dried, regurgitated baked ziti and green beans on his crib sheet from dinner the night before! He had apparently thrown up shortly after going down to bed, and yet hadn't whimpered or made any noise at all, so we didn't even know it had happened. He was covered from head to toe; I had to put him straight in a bath and even after shampooing his hair twice, the smell still lingered a bit. He ate a normal breakfast and played as usual, and has had no symptoms since then, so if he did have the same thing as me obviously his body just got rid of it and said that was that. It was about 24 hours later that I woke up with my horrible symptoms. Tom suspected we picked something up while we were touring preschools. "What?" you say. "Touring preschools?"

Yes, we've decided to start Rowan in preschool two days per week. Last week Rowan and I toured three preschools, and earlier this week we visited another one. I think we've made our decision, although yesterday Tom and Rowan and I were supposed to go for a final pre-enrollment visit, and we were no-shows due to...well...you know. I hope when I call the principal this morning she will not have given our slot to someone else. We shall see. Rowan is such a social boy, and so hungry to learn new things, that we know he will love preschool. I can't believe that in just a few short weeks, I will be hanging a fingerpainting by Rowan on the fridge! How awesome is that!