Please don’t barf on me; please don’t barf on me; please don’t barf on me (again). |
We’ve been pretty blessed that E.V. hasn’t had too many colds or sick days so far, but we’re playing catch up very quickly here. Emma Vance has been wrestling with a stomach bug for three days now, having barfed in her crib, on her changing table, in her highchair, in our bed (twice) and on me (yep, down the shirt). Oh, joy. We’ve relapsed to newborn-type diapers (yuck) and learned what it’s like to live with an unhappy baby (not fun). Truth be told, she’s just a little more antsy and cranky than normal, still opting to play with her toys and ransack the house when left to her own devices. However, when you have a baby naturally disposed to giggles and good behavior like we do, those moments when you actually leave your full shopping cart in the store because your baby is fussing are shocking–and clearly indicative that she doesn’t feel well. So we’re quarantined here at the house for a little while until E.V. feels better. The good news is that she isn’t running a fever; the bad news is that she refuses to drink Pedialyte, although I think that’s because Ryan bought her the bubblegum flavor. Apparently it was his favorite flavor of medicine growing up. Disgusting. :)
In other news, her top four teeth have been trying to find daylight for about a month now, and this morning they finally broke through! YAY! We’ve officially gone from two to six teeth overnight (plus a sliver of a molar). What a big girl!