Yeah, it looks like the rotavirus has made itself at home in our house.
Z woke up feverish, listless and thirsty, and she threw up the apple juice-Pedialyte cocktail I prepared for her shortly after we made it downstairs. But in a big improvement over yesterday, she barfed in the plastic basin I'd given her and not all over the couch.
As the morning went on and Cinderella turned into Calliou, vomit made way for diarrhea, which has been plaguing her all morning, but she has been able to keep down successive doses of the Pedialyte cocktail as well as some Infant Tylenol lemonade I mixed up. That and two bites of a bagel and maybe six squares of Life cereal. The kid is pitiful. She can barely stand up, and if I put her down for a moment, she sinks down on the floor. She whimpered through my 10 minute shower in spite of Josh's efforts to soothe her. I guess when you're that sick, only Mama will do. Mama and a stack familiar DVDs.
Unpleasant but manageable, right? Wrong. While I was tending to the nasty liquids spewing forth from our daughter, Josh was stuck dealing with our vomiting kitchen sink. I don't know exactly what's wrong, but it's involved lots of plunging, a little cursing and virtually all of the pipes removed from under the sink. Hopefully the friendly folks at Ace Hardware--together with some advice from our friend Eric--will keep us from having to call a plumber tomorrow.
If we're out a functioning sink, we may need to downgrade our Passover seder plans yet again. I already backed out of my friend Julie's seder on account of this virus, but if the sink isn't working, I'm not sure we'll be able to cook anything!
At least our washing machine is still going strong...
