Sicky Sick Sick (note, lots of poo talk in this one)...

I am sick.  Well, I am actually at the end of being sick.  Not just a "hey, I feel crummy" kind of thing but a "I may have pooped my pants while I was puking in the toilet" sick.  To make things even better, guess who else is suffering from the first sickness of his extremely short life?  That's right sports fans, Mr. N himself. 

Being sick is hard.  Holding your sobbing three month old on your chest while knowing that there is nothing you can do about his discomfort is ridiculously horrible.  Noah and I have been home from daycare and work for two days now.  I have been sick since Sunday and he got sick on Monday night.  Thus, I have been home with my son for two days.  Here are some things that have happened over the past two days.

It turns out that breast fed babies don't always go poop on a normal schedule.  This is important to note so that you don't call the nurse at the Pediatrician's office in a panic because your son hasn't poo'd in 36 hours.  Of course, the real reason you are in a panic is that he has a temp of 100.5 but nurses will always focus on the poo issue.  According to our nurse, a breast fed baby can go 7+ days without pooing or a "BM" as they say in the biz.  To be honest, I like to say "poo"  but that is just how I roll as a daddy. 

So you get off the phone with the nurse who recommends taking your son's temperature via his butt.  In the annals (pun very much intended) of parenting history, putting something up a butt when nothing has come out of that butt for 36+ hours has been proven to be "pressing your luck".  Just as I was about to take off his diaper, BAM!  Explosive poo.  Thank God for Noah's timing. 

On the not so good part, Noah had a temp of 100.9.  Off the doctor we went to find out that Noah has his first cold.  Poor guy.  All he does is sniffle and want to be on Daddy's chest.  So I have spent the last two days trying to rest while taking care of the little guy.  Luckily, G was able to work from home today, so she was able to take care of him for the majority of the day. 

Being a parent is hard but rewarding.  In the last 48 hours, all I have wanted to do is hold him and assure him that everything was going to be ok.  Not that he understands my words, but I am pretty sure that when he startles himself awake and looks up at me, he knows that I am there for him. 

It is late now, I am going to try to sleep.  Hopefully, Noah will have a good night tonight.  If not, I know a chest he can rest on...