Sicko

Thursday wasn't a good day.

It didn't start off so badly. It was pretty normal, actually. But around 1:00 I got a call  at school from Jack's babysitter who told me that he had thrown up, seemed to have a fever, and just wasn't being himself. Great.

Luckily, I could get a sub in quickly and I picked him up by 1:30. He already had a weight check appointment later that day but I called the doctor's office to see if they could get him in any earlier and if he could see a real doctor.  They were so helpful and they squeezed him in about an hour earlier than he would have been. So the two of us went home for a while to wait until it was time to go. Jack slept most of the time and the rest of the time he just lay on my shoulder. He really wasn't feeling well at all.

About twenty minutes before our appointment, I got the boy all loaded up in the car, grabbed the purse and diaper bag and reached for my keys that are always in my purse. 

Hmmm... no keys.

They were in the house. The locked house. The locked house that has no spare hidden anywhere for such an occasion. It's a good thing I didn't lock the car earlier so at least we could sit in the car while we waited for the locksmith to come rescue us. As we were waiting, I called the doctor's office to let them know we'd be a little late. The locksmith people assured me that someone would be over within five to ten minutes and they didn't lie.

The only problem was that in the short time we had to wait, Jack started fussing in his car seat so I picked him up to cuddle him for a while. That's when it came. All the food the child has ever eaten came spewing out of his mouth and onto both of us. It was smelly. It was slimy. It was completely disgusting.

So here we are, sitting in the car, covered in baby vomit, locked  out of our own house, and late for an appointment. The locksmith eventually gets here (hallelujah!) and promptly lets us in. I apologized for the smell and in all his nineteen-year-old superiority says, "Yeah, you've got something on your pants." Thanks, dude.

So we get in the house, change (Jack into his pajamas and me out of my dry-clean only work clothes. Bummer.) and hit the road. By this time, we're about 45 minutes late, which means we could have made the first appointment beautifully. They are still gracious enough to fit us in somewhere and we find out the Jack is gaining weight but that he's got some bug that we just have to wait out. We did make it home without  incident, though.

I thought that this would just be a quick little thing, but he's still been acting sick. He threw up a few times yesterday and is still acting like he feels terrible this morning, which is why I'm home now. Poor kid. Hopefully we can take care of it. And hopefully we can do so without anymore major puking incidents. We'll see.