And Now We Can't Even Do the Taxes*

Yesterday afternoon, Elizabeth’s…um…diaper output…began to show signs that she had a bit of an upset stomach.  After dinner (which she didn’t eat much of), she was sitting on Matt’s lap when I felt her stomach and it was all hard and distended.  Clearly an upset stomach.  So I drove to the nearby drugstore and spent a million dollars on baby stomach remedies.  (Also, they were very nearly sold out of everything and totally sold out of the cheap generic versions.  Obviously stomach aliments are going around.)

We got Elizabeth to take some anti-gas medicine and then gave her one of those pink things to chew up.  She accepted the pink one rather excitedly, as it was the same size and shape as a sweet tart, but when she bit it, she was less than pleased.  Matt was coaxing her to swallow it and I went to get her a piece of candy for a bribe and to get the taste out of her mouth when she was done.  Then I heard Matt say “uh oh.”  And then Elizabeth was throwing up all over him.  And still throwing up all over him.  And then a little more.

I do love Matt though.  He cleaned it all up (he does much better with vomit than I do) and I took a stripped down baby upstairs and deposited her in the bath.  She was crying and very sad.  (Later, she told us “did I put it all on Dada?”  I find it very amusing, psychologically, hearing her work things out verbally later.)  She got washed off and more cheerful.  Then I put some cream on her diaper rash (from the excessive diaper output during the day) and added some baking soda, like Twitter has often told me that they do for bad diaper rash.  Elizabeth screamed like she has never screamed before and started shaking.  So, I do not recommend the aquaphor mixed with baking soda remedy.  We had to put her back in the bathtub and she still hasn’t quite recovered.  (Later, I got: “Did you put sprinkles on me?  I screamed.”)  Then she was starving, having thrown up everything she ate during the entire day, so she ate a frozen pretzel.  (Her request.)  Then we put her in our bed with us and let her watch some movie.

She’s been perfectly recovered today.  But last night…it was one of those nights.  The best part?  When she threw up all over Matt, she took out the W-2 that he had gotten from work that day.  The dog ate my homework.  The baby threw up on my tax forms.  Please don’t audit us.

*Obviously, we got another copy.  We can do the taxes.  And the email from Matt’s HR department said “Matt needs another W-2.  Something about his daughter.”  I was amused.