Did Our Flu Shots Not Work?

I have to keep this somewhat brief because I’m WAY behind on pretty much every single thing going on in my life, from laundry to work, but here’s a recap of the past few days. During the weekend, Charlotte was a bit on the fussy side and there was a random throw-up mess on Saturday night that resulted in an early-morning bath. We assumed her dinner just didn’t sit well with her. On Monday morning, Charlotte’s teacher called me at work. Apparently our girl had been crying and inconsolable ALL MORNING LONG. Due to a couple very fussy diaper changes, I thought perhaps we had a return of the evil abscess. So, because we carpool, Chris and I arranged to jointly pick her up. As I told my boss, I was reminded that I had training all afternoon. I promptly returned to my office and bawled. It was my own fault. I knew I had the training, but it just hadn’t registered. I was heartbroken I couldn’t go comfort by little girl, and I was also just plain tired. I had been battling a cold (from here on, known as “Charlotte Disease #1"), and I didn’t have it in me for extra logistical work. I was barely keeping my head above water as it was. Chris handled picking up Charlotte, and she was fine by the time she got home. No fever, no abscess indicators, nada. She ate well and had a good nap. (We suspect she had an upset tummy while at school.) I started my training at work, and checked in at home during a break around 3:00. Chris informed me that he was feeling terrible—nauseous, achy, and so on. I told him to put Charlotte in her crib with some toys and to just take care of himself. Would she be peeved? Yes. But she would also be safe. An hour later, I slipped out of my training to check in again. Chris was throwing up and Charlotte, miraculously, was napping. I called for a town car to pick me up in Bethesda—Chris didn’t have a prayer of being able to drive and pick me up (we carpooled that morning, remember?). So the car picked me up and, I’ll admit, the quiet, rather posh ride to Poolesville was probably the highlight of my day. Arriving home, I launched into to Super Wife/Super Mom role and rushed around to get Chris, poor baby, squared away, plus Charlotte fed, bathed, and put down. By the time I had her down, I started to feel pretty woozy myself, and I knew I’d be writhing in misery within the hour. I got the dishes done and the house reasonably cleaned up. I saw the million bottles and knew I should clean them—but I just couldn’t. With my last bit of oomph, I made a bottle for Charlotte for the next morning. I highly doubted Chris or I would be in any condition to make a bottle. And then I was down with Charlotte Disease #2, the stomach flu. I stayed in the guest bedroom because my coughing, part of Charlotte Disease #1, was torture to Chris. We each spent the night in our own private hell. Hit a bit harder than Chris, due in part to my cough that would instigate my throwing-up reflex, I became best friends with a big pink plastic tub we had gotten from when Charlotte was in the hospital. I was too feeble to get to the bathroom. Charming, no? My main prayer was that Charlotte would not come down with the same thing. Mainly, I didn’t want her to go through what we were enduring. But I also knew that caring for a truly sick kid in our condition was physically impossible. I suppose we would have somehow managed, but fortunately, we didn’t have to. (I suspect that we caught a more severe form of whatever stomach bug Charlotte had, thus its title “Charlotte Disease #2.” So far, she seems just fine. ) By morning, I knew the worst had passed, but both of us were very, very weak and still very woozy. Charlotte was super baby, napping a lot (without fighting it!), playing independently, and so on. Honestly, we would have taken her to day care, but we were too sick to drive. So home she stayed. Today, Wednesday, is a snow day/sick day/telecommute day. I’m seriously debating raiding some of Charlotte’s birthday toy stash (her stack of gifts is getting obscene anyway) to give her something new to play with. She’s getting bored, and she’s so used to having other kids and her teachers to play with, not boring parents who are trying to catch up on work e-mails and such. Tomorrow, weather permitting, house cleaners are taking over our house for the very first time. I’m so excited to have a sparkling clean house—sort of a symbol of a clean slate, starting over all healthy (cough, cough). Finally, my mom and Grandma Belle arrive on Friday night to help us celebrate Charlotte’s first birthday, which is on Sunday. Back-up is on its way!