Happy, happy boy. Pleasant to be with, flirting with his cousins and auntie and be delighted with his grandma. Happy to wander the halls of the hotel. Delightful to put asleep.
Sick, sick girl. Oh so very sick. Coming out of both ends at the same time. Weak and lethargic. Constant puking. A broken down mom, weeping first in the middle of the mall, then again in the hotel room and then again when I spoke with J-L. It was just so hard on me emotionally to see her like that. I lost track of how much she puked. If you ask her she'd say "37, no, 38" when she remembers her latest puke this afternoon. Basically since Thursday morning she has held down about a 1/4 of a bagel and a chicken nugget (I know, not the best thing for her but when she actually ASKED for that after not wanting any food for 2 days already I didn't even care). She has lost 3.5 pounds already and that, my friends, is over 8% of her body weight. Yes, a doctor will be visited tomorrow. The crazy thing is, her mood is unbelievable. She hasn't whined, the only time she's cried is when she has diarrhea that we then need to wipe her bum (typically by now she wipes her own bum and so the tears are due to guilt at us having to wipe it for her, poor thing). When I burst into tears at the hotel she came up to me, patted me on the back and told me that she would try not to puke anymore. Bless her little heart. I remember when I was pregnant with her and suffered with prenatal depression. I wondered if I would ever be the same again. If I would ever feel normal again. I'm starting to feel that way with her after 4 days of this: Will she ever bounce again? Will she ever beam again?
