I adore Katie. She is the light of our lives. Every little smile, every sound, every new thing she does fills us with happiness. But there's more to Katie than meets the eye.
She's a puker. I don't mean she has a weak stomach; she's eaten some very questionable things off the floor and never had a problem. I don't mean she has motion sickness. Quite the opposite: she loves doing somersaults and being held upside down. I don't mean she's prone to stomach flu - she's only had colds so far.
I mean she's an angry puker. If screaming loudly enough to make Mommy's ears ring isn't enough to get her point across, throwing up is her ace in the hole. Our first encounter with this phenomenon really caught us off guard. We'd finally given up on the "no-cry" method (after 14 months) and started sleep training*. Katie, of course, wanted no part of this, and screaming quickly escalated to barfing.
The second encounter was during Katie's first haircut. We knew she would be wiggly and unlikely to sit still, but we were really surprised at how vehemently she hated it. Tears turned to screams, and when that didn't stop the nice lady from coming at her with scissors, she decided to try barfing. Luckily, the stylist took that in stride and managed to get a few more snips in before we threw in the towel.
The third encounter with the puke-monster was during what was supposed to be a routine blood draw, for Katie's vaccine study. It took nearly an hour, four techs, and a WHOLE LOT of barf before we got the two tiny vials they needed. The charge nurse asked what Katie had had for breakfast, and when I told her "yogurt," she said "Oh great. That's what I brought for lunch. I'm going to go throw it away." They are never gonna let us come back to that lab!
Last night was our fourth encounter. Katie had a fever of 102 (see previous post) and Kaiser instructed us to give her those children's Tylenol drops. Well, to say that Katie didn't like them would be a real understatement. I totally expected squirming, screaming, and spitting, which is why we chose to administer the medicine in the bathroom, the only room with an easy-to-clean floor. I did not anticipate the puking. I certainly wasn't prepared for how much there would be. Or how many times. All over mommy. Very little got on the floor, actually. At one point, Anthony and I looked at each other and started to laugh. What else can you do? (Besides cry?)
Anyway, I'm considering keeping Katie quarantined until she outgrows the angry puking. No fun!
UPDATE: For those with an iron stomach, here is a picture of Katie and Mommy in all our puke-covered glory. Seriously, click at your own risk - it is really really gross. And Katie is naked, so I'm definitely gonna get some flak for this in about 12 years. Take me to the horribleness!
*A story for another post. Someday soon, I promise!
All superkids have superpowers and while I am sure Katie has many superpowers that delight and awe you, this one will have to go in the grouping of "superpowers that will serve her well someday...we hope even though we can't exactly see what context they would work in." Super Toddler banshee scream falls in this grouping. I suppose this (and Katie's vomit on angry command) will be useful if they are every attacked by someone with sensitive ears, a strong sense of smell, and a weak gag reflex? I am going with it....
ReplyDeleteBy the way, can NOT wait to hear about the "no-cry" method! :)
Yes! A superpower, that's totally what it is. Somewhat more powerful than Mr. Furious from Mystery Men, but much less deadly than the Incredible Hulk. (I confess I'm out of my depth here; the only thing I know about the Hulk is that he is a mild-mannered guy who gets mad, turns into a green Lou Ferrigno, and smashes things.)
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