We made it allllllmost three years without one: a toddler stomach flu.
It’s true. In almost three years of parenthood, we’d never encountered a child with an actual stomach flu. D had only thrown up once (on Darling Husband’s last birthday!) and we suspected it was from too much cake. It was a one-time thing, no biggie (says the person who did not clean the carpet).
But the other day, the flu struck poor D. He threw up from 11 p.m. on Sunday night until 9 a.m. this morning (Tuesday). We’d think he was getting better, and then … he wasn’t.
Luckily, the little guy was in great spirits even through the worst of it. He kept saying “I feel better now! I go dow-a-sairs and play cars and trucks?” and I was like, “Uh, sorry, don’t trust you on the carpet yet.”
Here’s what I learned in the last 48 hours of pukedom: