So this is technically day four of my youngest having a weird tummy bug which is where he has no temperature but yet has diarrhoea so runny it sounds like Niagara Falls when he goes to the loo. I felt so bad on Saturday because I thought it was due to my cooking. I had cooked a curry dish that I hadn’t done for a while and my hand had slipped with the cumin seasoning. I knew my little one was averse to it so when his had a runny tummy on Saturday I had pretty much nailed it onto this.
By Sunday he seemed better and I didn’t take him to nursery on Monday to cover the 24hr without incident rule, that most nurseries have now in order to contain the spread of nasty stomach bugs.
By Tuesday off we went back to work and nursery and on the face of it, all seemed well.
This morning, I was running a bit behind getting to work and as per usual, just as I was about to rush out of the door I had to go myself. I rush off my shoes and shot upstairs in order to get this visit to the ‘throne’ over and done with so that I could then rush to work.
I returned downstairs, threw on little man’s coat just as I heard the dreaded “Poo Poo” whine as I put the key into the front door.
“Are you sure, son?” I asked in desperation as I see the time quickly fading that would enable me to arrive in work on time.
“Poo Poo mummy!” came the urgent reply.
We then went through the routine of taking off the outdoor coats, gloves, hat, scarf (he wanted snow on this warm Spring morning), ski boots, he ran upstairs and sat comfortably on the throne, ready for action.
As I heard the noises that came from the other end of my son, I knew that I was not going into work that day and my heart sank (which was especially surprising from me given how much I enjoy being at home with the kids). The hassle comes from being a teacher. My profession is the only one where you do more when you or your kids are ill in terms of setting cover work than you actually do by being in. So when you do have to stay away from work through illness, your heart sinks. It’s a rush job then to find some work to suitably engage your classes while you are off.
I had to quickly make all the necessary phone calls to notify school that I couldn’t be in, set the work, send the work by email – all this while my poor little cherub was on the loo. I had been fooled into a false sense of pity however because as I clicked the send button on the email, I noticed that the bathroom was too quiet.
I cautiously called upstairs to see whether my little man was ok, and I heard a very innocent “Yes”. That was when I knew I had to rush upstairs.
So when a child has a tummy bug, they like to do things like this with a full roll of loo paper:
In response to being met with this when I reached the bathroom, my 3 year old said in a very triumphant voice, “Look mummy, I’ve wiped my bum all by myself!”
At this moment words failed me but he still managed to melt my heart by his little happy smile in spite of not feeling too great.