(Warning: You saw the title... You may not want to continue reading if you are easily offended by feces...)
Yes, I remember this feeling. This is the feeling of walking around in a daze with my mouth hanging open. I am jolted fully awake only when a string of spittle trickles down my chin. Call it water in the face, I don't know. Really, though. Some very consequential and incredibly needed brain cells have abandoned ship, and it takes me far too long to register any factoid or come up with any type of retort. Now is the time to win an argument against me. Go ahead, ATTACK! I'll just wipe my face with my saliva-soaked sleeve and stare blankly at you. There may not be any feeling of satisfaction from that. Sorry.
I am back to being a short chef for Gideon at night. Last night there were about five separate meal portions of corn and a few rogue slices of cheese tossed in the mix. I haven't had to fire up the burners just yet. I have had to deal with Gideon's diarrhea dilemma (GREAT name for a band: Diarrhea Dilemma...just saying...) starting last night, or I guess that was technically early this morning. I didn't really STUDY it once he dumped, and so I had no idea what it entailed. I do remember hearing a lot of splish-splashing, but I really didn't see anything in the toilet. You know I looked. I explained that habit in an earlier blog. It's what good mothers DO. I blamed the toilet color for my inability to see, since it is black. Crazy things get camouflaged in there. Don't worry, this is going somewhere. There will be a point. This is not just Mouth-Breather Manda talking. Ugh. That was a gross image to mix in with the idea of diarrhea. Sorry. I promise my mouth was closed while the pooping commenced. It was just to make fun of myself and lack of brain storage/usage. On with the show... (I am trying to force myself to be focused, really.)
Throughout the day Gideon had his bursts of steroid energy. So much so that Brody seriously asked me, "Mommy, can't you just put him in a cage?" And he meant it. After these explosions (another funny word choice) of testosterone, Gideon would all-of-a-sudden get lethargic and lay on the ground. He also didn't want to eat. He requested a million different things. I made every single one of them. He would take a sample bite of each meal, and then push it away with an "I don't want that." Frustrating. But, I kept on keeping on. Steak? On it. NO? Okay...grilled cheese. NO? Okay...pretzels. NO? Okay...and on it went. And on and on... He probably ate one half bite of everything and ended up spitting out each mouthful. What was this? Some sort of mutant DIVA steroid monster? Ugh. Next he was probably going to ask for M&Ms, but only the GREEN ones with room temperature Bling H2O (that's REAL bottled water, by the way...and it is forty dollars per bottle) surrounded by a bouquet of blue roses. I'm not the biggest fan of high maintenance. I like to laugh at it from afar, and dealing with it in my son was disconcerting.
So it went. Then Gideon ran up to me in the kitchen with sheer panic laser-beaming out of his eyes. "MOMMY!" and on the "Y" of "Mommy," there was a massive eruption down below. A wet-sounding enormous eruption. He started to cry and said, "I couldn't STOP it." Instantly his Mariah behaviors towards food evaporated and I felt immediately sorry for my honey. Thankfully, since there was a detonation like this the night before, I had him in a pull-up. Once I took off the pull-up, I had to look again. And again. And, one more time to make sure this wasn't just one of those slow processing moments and soon color would be restored to my tired eyes. No, it was real. Gideon's poop explosion was totally and completely CLEAR. Not one brown speck or kernel of corn to be seen. What?! Never had I seen anything like it.
We had to bring Brody to school. It was PUMPKIN CARVING WITH DAD today, and he was bouncing around with unbridled giddiness all morning. I called the clinic and explained the situation: No fever, but clear poop. When I got back home from the drop off, there was a message to go straight to the clinic. Gideon and I didn't get home until dinner time. He was given fluids and then some sustenance via IV. He also got to "poop in a hat" which Gideon thought was hilarious. Somewhere in Bronson someone is doing a poop biopsy of my little guy's excrement. What a job. Has Mike Rowe tackled that one yet? Focus. Okay.
We are thinking it was probably a stomach bug, and I am to monitor Gideon's temperature. As long as he stays hydrated (the Diva LIKES Pedialyte...thank goodness), we should ride this one out. Thankfully, his numbers are high enough to battle this bug. Please pray it works out of his system soon.
I better get to bed. Soon I will be asked to lay out the spread. GOODNIGHT!