Everyday Life, Parenting

Stomach Bugs, Small Children, and How To Deal

Works for Me Wednesday :: Giving Up on PerfectThis isn’t a typical Mia The Reader post, but unfortunately, how to handle those pesky stomach bugs in small children is what’s on my brain these days. This post will be part of the Works for Me Wednesday link up over at Giving Up On Perfect. If you’re not in this phase of life, maybe skip this post and come back next time? Or stick around, you might learn something new. But don’t say I didn’t warn you…

I remember so clearly the first time one of my kids came down with the dreaded stomach bug. She was 18 months old and woke up crying in the night an hour after I put her down for the night. I had no idea what was wrong with her. I sat down in the rocking chair to rock her back to sleep, but you can guess how that worked out. A few rocks later, we were both a mess. In that moment, even as you’re grossed out that you’re covered in your kid’s vomit, it’s hurts your heart to see the panic in your child’s eyes when he or she first experiences this dismal fact of life: everyone upchucks once in a while. Most kids first learn experience this around 12-18 months. It’s no fun to be the sick kid, but it’s also no fun to be the sick kid’s parents. It’s even worse for everyone involved when the parent of the sick kid does everything wrong. Yes, that was me the first time I was the mom of a vomiting child.  Three kids and nearly six years later, I’ve learned a good bit about how to deal with the abominable stomach bug in toddlers and preschoolers. When your child starts clutching at his middle and groaning, grab these three things: mixing bowls, beach towels, and wet wash cloths. 

Step One: Grab a mixing bowl. One of the worst things about taking care of a toddler when he has a stomach bug is his complete inability to get himself to a safe place to throw up. Newsflash: he’s not going to run to the bathroom. It also doesn’t work to ask your small ones to use a bucket when they feel the urge to throw up, according to the data that you can view it now. Little kids cannot handle a bucket for throwing up in. They need something lightweight that can sit right next to them on the bed or couch to quickly grab. They also need something that’s not too tall for them to bend over from a sitting position.  You need something that you can completely sanitize in the dishwasher when this is all over. Mixing bowls are your best friends.

Step Two: Get out your beach towels. Beach towels will save your sanity when your house is struck with a middle-of-the-night throw up fest.  I don’t know about you, but there is a very limited sheet selection at our house and that is the reason behind this guide. Once I remove the initial destroyed beach-towelsbedding, I put down a beach towel instead of a sheet on my child’s mattress. Wrapping a bath towel around the pillow is also a good idea. Then I can save the clean set of sheets for when poor little guy or girl’s stomach settles down and she’s ready to get some sleep. I’d still recommend getting those yucky sheets washed right away, but at least this way if you are (miraculously) able to get some sleep, you don’t have to worry about switching clothes from washer to dryer until morning.

Step Three: Keep a cool, wet washcloth handy at all times.  You know that point after your child has gotten out what needs to be gotten out and the heaving commences? (This is so fun to read about, I know. But I warned you!). To stop the heaving, wipe the back of your child’s neck with a cool washcloth. It’s also nice to have around to wipe the whole face down before lying back down in bed.

Those are three things I’ve learned to do when faced with stomach upset in our family. But don’t forget, I did everything wrong the first time. So as a bonus (woohoo!), here the six things I’ve learned not to do when one of my small children has a stomach bug:

1. Don’t give them a bath right away. I get it. Your child smells horrible, looks horrible, is outwardly quite horrible. My immediate reaction after my daughter’s first throwing up ever was to stick her in the bathtub and clean her up. But it’s always best to wait (if you can) until you’re sure the throwing up is done. You can cross your fingers and hope it’s a “one and done” deal, but it’s probably not. (Sorry). Your child is only going to get messier because most toddlers don’t understand the whole “throw up in the bucket” idea. Also, they are probably experiencing a mix of nausea and chills that makes taking a bath an unpleasant experience for them. Clean them up quickly with a wet cloth or wipe and let them lie back down and get whatever rest they can before they’re at it again.

2. Don’t turn on the TV. A movie or TV show is another thing your child may beg for in between bouts of nausea. But the eye movement required to watch TV could very well end up increasing the nausea instead of distracting from it. We are big fans of recorded books and stories during the stomach bug episodes.

3. Don’t leave your child’s side. I don’t even try to get back in my own bed at night if my kids are throwing up. In my opinion, it’s far better for me to lay on the floor next to their beds and be able to shove a mixing bowl in their faces as soon as they need one than to run from my room when I hear them gagging only to get there when everything within five feet is completely obliterated. I’ll take the crick in the neck over the laundry/carpet/sorry-about-your-favorite-doll any day. If it’s a daytime illness (which it hardly ever is for us!), I just forget about productivity that day and keep as close as possible to the sicky.

4. Do not give your child water right away. Yes, you’re worried about dehydration. But worry about that later. These stomach bugs want everything out of your kid’s stomach, and they want it to stay out for a while. Don’t ask me why, but that’s the way it is. I am aware that medical websites say you should give children who are vomiting small amounts of liquid to drink. So that’s my official advice: do what doctors tell you to do. But my experiential, mom advice is  this: don’t give them anything while they’re throwing up. I’d love to know what other mom’s experiences are with that. In my experience, I have to let my kids throw up until there’s nothing left, and usually let them take a good nap before we start rehydrating. This is based on a normal stomach bug, though, not one that lasts more than a few hours. I’ve never seen my children get to the point of dehydration during a stomach bug when those scary symptoms you’re told to watch out for appear. Like I said, my unofficial, experiential advice is to let them get it all out and rest a bit before plying them with Gatorade or other electrolyte replacement drinks. But that leads me to this:

5. Don’t assume kids are all alike: take notes on how your children recover. If you’re like me, you’ll probably read a bunch of websites about how to help your child recover. Sadly, the advice you read might be all wrong for you. A few weeks ago, my 3-year-old son threw up every ten minutes for five hours overnight, then woke up, downed a piece of toast, and went about his normal, super hero action packed day. My 5-year-old daughter had a less intense version of that stomach bug that same night, and she ate nothing but Saltines for the next 24 hours and lazed around the house all day. Apparently, her physical and mental recovery after a stomach bug hits her is a bit more delicate than my son’s. Even after my daughter is asking for Gatorade and hasn’t thrown up in an hour or two, there’s a good chance it’s coming back up. I go ahead and give her fluids as soon as she starts asking for them, but I keep the mixing bowl nearby. This is the kid who after her first stomach bug as a toddler threw up ever day as if by habit for the next week-and-a-half at dinner. Fun times. But I now I know this…

6. Don’t give a toddler whatever food he wants after a stomach bug. Listen. She’s barely two years old. She’s asking for ice cream. You want to give it to her, but DO NOT DO IT! A week-and-a-half, my friends. That’s how long it took me to realize the first time I parented through a stomach bug that I should be giving nothing to my sick daughter other than the good old BRAT diet: bananas, rice, applesauce, and toast. But mine is more the BRACT diet because I dole out a lot of crackers in recovery times. After I backed off on a regular diet and gave her only BRACT, she recovered completely in two days. As I mentioned in the previous “Don’t,” every child recovers differently and older children can handle returning to a regular diet sooner than children two and under. If they’re under two, I strongly suggest you go extremely slow with introducing any dairy or protein right away. Not even pancakes! (yes,that’s experience speaking). Stick to BRACT for 24-48 hours and hopefully you’ll avoid the week-and-a-half of misery this first-time-mom experienced.

So there you go, information straight from the trenches on how to deal when stomach bugs and small children collide. Here’s hoping my mistakes will keep your sane in your own hour of need. On a bookish note, our favorite sick day book is this one.

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Everyday Life, Parenting

Wear The Beads

Lately, I’ve been struggling with what to tell people when they ask “So, what have you been up to?” It seems to me I should be able to sweep my arm in the direction of my three young children with a flourish and say, “Exhibit A.” I don’t want to be a one dimensional person, but really, I don’t have any other answer right now. When real life happens, it doesn’t always translate so well into a short and sweet small talk answer. Maybe when there has been a major life event, there is a good answer. But when there has been no big one thing? What does a mom of little kids say? We haven’t gone to Tahiti. We haven’t moved. We haven’t had a disaster of any sort. There have just been days one after the other like beads on a string. And I’m not talking pearls. No, no. These have not been pearly, luminescent days, though they all have their gorgeous, unforgettable moments. These days have been the clear plastic bead on a piece of yarn kind. The kind full of dishes, play dates, grocery shopping, cracker crumbs, breakfasts/lunches/dinners, sick children, sick self, and so much coffee.

Nothing special has happened in the last few months. Until I remember this: every moment.

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Though they can seem like just a bunch of mundane minutes, these clear bead days are precious, too, and who decides that pearls made by some ugly oysters on a  dark ocean floor are more lovely than the gift a five-year-old considers a work of art? The clear beads are everywhere in my house right now, under dressers and in corners, clogging up the filter in the vacuum cleaner. They’re like the in-your-face, never ending responsibilities of mothering littles that can completely overwhelm me. But the curve of soft, round cheeks? The plump little toes in their first pair of sandals? The freckles appearing out of nowhere under sea blue eyes? Those facets of my right-now life can overwhelm me in a whole ‘nother way if I just see them with the right pair of eyes on.

I could choose to wear the necklace made up of those clear beads all tinted green, purple, pink, and blue and in no particular pattern or order, and know there is love in these days hidden all over the place and also bowling me over every morning as I roll out of my (absolutely wonderful) bed. Really, literally, bowling me over (Hello, 3-year-old son).  I won’t ever have a day when I feel like everything about motherhood is perfect. Peachy. Pearly. Almost every good thing is disguised in something sort of annoying when you’re in the thick of things. A hug when you’re tired of being touched. Really beautiful singing about Jesus when the baby is asleep. These things are beautiful and an exquisite gift and are driving me crazy all at the same time.  But if I don’t want to go crazy? There’s really only one good choice to make when I’m overwhelmed by all these clear beads rolling around my house and I need an answer for where all the minutes are going.

Wear them.

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Wear the beads.

Everyday Life, Parenting

The Bird Feeder

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My Bird Feeder
I have a bird feeder in my backyard.

Big deal. Everyone has a bird feeder or a bird table.

Well, actually, it is kind of a big deal. I used to kind of scoff at bird watching. Yep, I am pretty much a terrible person. But I’m growing up. (It turns out, growing up just means you buy your own groceries, you decide for yourself when the speed limit is too fast on a certain road, and you scoff less).  However, I didn’t realize I was such a scoffer when it came to bird watching until early January of last year, when one day I found myself staring through my kitchen window at the frantic birds scrounging around in the soggy, bleak backyard. My hands deep in the hot, sudsy water, rubbing grime off dishes that had sat in the sink too long, I watched the birds’ fretful hopping and pecking and was deeply thankful I had a grocery store right down the road. Then I realized, “Wait, why am I identifying with those birds? I’m bird watching! I’m like those people I’ve always laughed at.” And that’s when the self realization dawned: “<Gasp> Why do I laugh at bird watchers??!!” There it was, another bit of snobbery realized in my life.

A few days later, it snowed. My house was the warmest, coziest place it has ever been, but I found my eyes wandering out to those same little birds that I had watched a few days before. It turns out they were chickadees. I was watching them, and I was actually worrying about them. Where are they going to find any food? Why don’t I have a bird feeder? What kind of horrible human being am I? Wait, why am I worrying about this?

But those birds…they had a hold on my mind all of a sudden.

Then it didn’t seem so much like I just coincidentally started noticing birds. It was like it was all part of a plan.  I attended the IF: Gathering at a friend’s home a month later in early February 2014 and listened to Shelley Giglio talk about birds. Why birds? What in the world? Well, birds are often used in the Bible to show men and women how God cares for his creation and how much more he cares for us. Shelley Giglio’s talk focused on verses from Psalms that have two bird references:

“1 How lovely is your dwelling place,
Lord Almighty!
2 My soul yearns, even faints,
for the courts of the Lord;
my heart and my flesh cry out
for the living God.
3 Even the sparrow has found a home,
and the swallow a nest for herself,
where she may have her young—
a place near your altar,
Lord Almighty, my King and my God.
4 Blessed are those who dwell in your house;
they are ever praising you.” Psalm 83:1-4 (NIV)

Giglio went on to explain that a swallow is a very plain bird, brown and ordinary. The swallow in these verses was going about her natural work, being a mother, but the thing that stood out is that she was mothering in the presence of God. It was such a beautiful reminder to me that I don’t have to wait to seek God until all is quiet and still, I can bring my young and be with God in all things. I can dwell in my daily life, and the work of motherhood- the building the nest and having the young – can intersect with the sacred God who loves me as I am, ordinary and plain.

A year later, I still don’t exactly watch birds. I asked for a bird feeder for Christmas and it’s outside my kitchen window.  The chickadees come and go on the frozen winter mornings, and it makes me happy to see them and give them a few seeds, but I’m still not fascinated by the actual creatures that I’m feeding out there. What I love is that anytime I see that bird feeder, I remember all I have learned in the past year. I know the work I do is sometimes mundane and not at all profound – it has all been done before. Yet, it is sacred. I’m in the presence of God in this nest of mine, and my children are, too.  I’m reminded to scoff less, to appreciate the way I am cared for by my creator, to delight in the work of my hands. It’s amazing what one bird feeder can do. Who knows, maybe next year I’ll be carrying around a copy of National Audubon Society Field Guide for North American birds. At this point, I wouldn’t put it past me.  All kinds of things can happen when you’re growing up.

Everyday Life, Parenting

This Hurts Me More Than It Hurts You: Disciplining Myself Before My Kids

It was a hot, hot August day when I figuratively picked up my favorite piece of parenting advice and flung it out the window. If I had known how much damage I would do before the day was done, I might have thrown something more tangible out of the window, like say, a Tickle Me Elmo. Because why not? What’s one more broken thing?

Baby Violet had just turned three weeks old. It was the first week of August and my three children and I had been staying home a lot. We were going stir crazy. Our MOPS group was having a play date at a local splash pad that my kids love. I knew it would be a huge challenge to care for my newborn while trying to wrangle my boisterous 3-year-old boy and his side-kick sister into following the splash pad rules (“No running! Stop running!” Don’t they know little boys don’t even know how to walk? That they are born with one speed and that speed is “running?”). But I was prepared to do the crazy thing and try. I even announced to the kids we were going. Now there was really on turning back.

Or was there? The towels were packed, the sunscreen applied, the swimsuits on, but the kids were just plain misbehaving that morning. Nothing I said seemed to get into their ears. “Don’t tip your chair back.” “Please go brush your teeth.” “Stop hitting your sister!” Honestly, my children are usually people I enjoy being around, but I guess we were in the “acting out” phase of having a new baby in the family. As the minutes passed by and the time to leave for the splash pad got closer, the utter disregard for my authority grew. I tried pleading. I tried cheerleader-ish encouraging instructions. “Let’s get those shoes on quick, how quick can you do it!! Go, team, go!” I tried The Look. I tried yelling (tsk, tsk, I know).  I knew what I should do, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to say, “You know what? We can’t go out when you are behaving like this. We are staying home.” Because I really, really didn’t want to stay home.

But we did. After I finally made the decision, I managed to say it pretty calmly: “I’m sorry, I wanted to take you to the splash pad, but you are not listening to me. We have to stay home today.” There were some tears, but I think I was sadder than they were. I had broken my favorite parenting rule: “When you punish your kids, do not punish yourself along with them.” I first heard this advice when my oldest was still an infant. I thought it sounded so good, I told myself, “Oh yeah, I’m making that rule my own!” I mean, what parent needs worse punishment than being The Punisher?

Apparently, this parent.

At that moment, it became very clear that I had to let that parenting rule go. Because if I’m honest, I need just as much discipline as my children. In fact, I’m starting to realize the cruel truth of parenting is that if I want any of this discipline I’m doling out to work, I have to be the most self-disciplined of all.

Sigh. It was a sad moment of realization, but it felt right. Like when you decide to take back that shirt you bought but didn’t need when you were at Target last week.

The kids straightened up their attitudes a few minutes after I delivered the crushing (to me) blow of staying home. A bit later, I told them I would turn the sprinkler on in the backyard for them. Maybe we can redeem this day after all, I thought. That didn’t happen the way I thought it would, though. As I went out to turn on the sprinkler, I pulled on the hose a bit too hard…hard enough to pull the spigot out of the foundation of our house. I stood there for a minute, listening to the water gushing out of the broken pipe under our house, just feeling like life was really unfair. This is what I get for doing the right thing and staying home? Then I snapped out of it and did what every good homeowner does when they have a leak, which is, of course, turn off the water supply. But I couldn’t turn the knob on the valve for the life of me. Maybe it was really stuck, maybe I was too weak only three weeks postpartum, but at life seemed pretty unfair.

My husband was out of town. My in-laws were at the beach. I couldn’t reach my dad. All the while, the water flowed out of the pipe under my house. If I hadn’t been so tired, I might have turned on my own waterworks. I felt so abandoned by everyone and cheated by my good intentions of doing the right thing.

$300 later, the pipe was fixed, the kids were fed, the Little Einsteins were on, and we were all doing okay. I sat feeding my baby, trying to make sense of all the thoughts in my head (this is a big process when you’re sleep deprived). I was positive I had been the one learning the most about discipline that day. I learned in a very real way that parents have to do the right things, even when it’s hard, and that the right things aren’t always fun. They can even involve broken pipes if you’re not careful. The reward isn’t immediate and the hard things can just get harder before you see any of the good that follows. I’m still figuring this all out, but I have this feeling that pursuing discipline in myself first will be a real game changer in my home. Without my own self-correction, teachability, and humility, I don’t think the discipline I give to my children will have good lasting effects.  My theory is any “discipline” I give my children will just be punishment, not training, if I’m not growing and learning right along with them.

It’s been six months since I threw my favorite parenting rule out the window. The practical side of this theory is starting to make sense in real life now. I recognize that when the kids are throwing a fit over turning of the TV after just one show, it’s a result of my own lack of discipline. Have I fallen into the habit of letting them watch more like an hour of TV? Yes. My own lack of discipline in my practices has brought us to this point of rebellion and tears and tantrums. It’s still not an appropriate response from my children, that is undeniable. And they will get some sort of consequence, probably along the lines of no TV tomorrow, which means no down time for me tomorrow. But at this point I know if I had drawn the line and stayed on the right side of it, we all would know that the line was not to be crossed. Now my children think there’s a totally different line then the one I meant to set and they feel I’m doing them an injustice. I know I am the one in this situation that the discipline starts with.

So I’m replacing my old favorite parenting rule with a new one: “Discipline in my family starts with me.”  I’m praying we’ll all be better for it.

I’m just hoping it doesn’t involve any more broken pipes…

Everyday Life

31 Days to Clean

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This is the least of our messes.

Yeah, I’m one of those people who looks up from a book one January day and sort of wakes up to the house around her and says, “How did this happen?” And then “How can this un-happen?”

Sometimes life gets messy in bad and ugly ways, but most of the time, life is messy in good ways.  Blue, glittery toothpaste caked on the sinks. Unique, wonderfully made finger prints on everything.  Craft supplies still spread on the table that would make a month’s wages for someone in Uganda, but we just play with for fun. The amazing amount of lovely, clean clothes in laundry baskets all over the house. The mess is actually a blessing, and it’s not my intent to complain about having it. But…the goodness still needs to be managed or it will get us down! For me, the Realization of Mess Day usually happens on a rainy day. The clouds make the clutter seem that much more consuming, the kids are spreading things out all over the house, and the only words that come to mind are from Dr. Seuss and play over and over in my crazed stream of consciousness:

“And this mess is so big
And so deep and so tall,
We cannot pick it up.
There is no way at all!”

I know I’m not alone. I’ve talked with several women in the past few days are in the same post-holiday rut.

But maybe there is a way to pick it all up! And it’s not even a machine like The Cat in the Hat had (though if those are available, I’ll take one).  I’m following along with Sarah Mae’s 31 Days to Clean challenge over at her blog. It started yesterday, but I’m telling you, if you just do your dishes, you’ll be done with Day 1. It’s that basic and bite-sized. And I sure hope it works. Because I have a pile of library books due in 10 days that still must be read.

31 Days to Better Priorities will happen next month.

Ha ha.