Had a rough night. Caroline has been vomiting or having diarrhea for a couple of days, and we were worried what would happen if we left her in her crib. So I kept her in the living room where she slept in my lab pretty much the whole night while I stayed more or less awake the entire time. I kept my hand lightly on her stomach, and every so often I’d feel her stomach muscles tightening and have that much warning that she was about to barf, so I’d quickly get a large pot in front of her so she could puke into it. By 6 AM I felt like Kari in that Jack-Jack short cartoon, at which point Kath came downstairs and relieved me of duty. I literally don’t recall going up the stairs to bed.
Then I had to drive out to JFK in the afternoon to pick up Ariel, returning from visiting her mother in Arizona. Her plane was scheduled to get in at 5:15, and I wasn’t looking forward to driving back during rush hour. Then I suddenly thought, hey, we’re all the way in Queens, the Mets are at Shea tonight, let’s see if I can score some tickets and we’ll take in the game. Which was what I did, and we wound up in field level seats watching the Mets beat the Braves 5-4.
And, of course, now I’m working. Caroline, whom we took to the doctor who basically said to us, “It’s a virus, twenty dollars please” as we knew they would, seems to be recovering. So I’ve got the nursery monitor on, listening to make sure she’s okay. If something sounds amiss, I’ll try to get upstairs before she wakes up Kath.
Onward.
PAD
• 
The joys of parenting… so glad I don’t have those joys.
My daughter Maya has what sounds like the same stomach flu. Her doctor told us that it’s “going around,” but I thought he meant our neck of the woods! (We live in LA (Eagle Rock)).
Particular sympathies to Caroline as well. It must be particularly bad to feel so bad and not understand at all what’s happening, why it’s happening, and that things will get better.
Vast sympathies from this side of the pond, Peter. It’s a lousy truth but one I’ve had more than a bit of experience with: when a child has a temperature, it’s the parent who sweats.
Vast sympathies from this side of the pond, Peter. It’s a lousy truth but one I’ve had more than a bit of experience with: when a child has a temperature, it’s the parent who sweats.
If I may be forgiven the familiarity, You’re a Good Dad, Peter David.
David, father of two boys ages 14 & 11
Yep, that’s definitely one of the Signs Of Good Daddyness.
Hope everyone is on the mend.
Hold on a second. Your daughter just gets off a plane, having traveled over three quarters of the country, and you get her to go to a baseball game? Were I Ariel…well, for one thing, I’d have a lot better life…but I’d be dead tired after such a flight. I’d be irritable and cranky at being stuck in the middle of a mob of cheering fans when I’d rather crawl into my nightgown and curl up beneath a thick, warm comforter.
Either Ariel is a big sports fan, or has the endurance of Wonder Woman, to do all that.
Wow – that sounds like a bummer. Please pass on my “Get Well Soon!” wishes to Caroline. (As if she’d recognize them… “Oh, Eric wants me to get well soon? How very delightful!”
More likely, she’ll just puke again… but I hope she gets well soon anyhow! 🙂
I remain,
Sincerely,
Eric L. Sofer
The Silver Age Fogey
x
“she slept in my lab pretty much the whole night”
Somehow I knew you were a mad scientist.
My sympathies. Hope she gets better soon so you can all get more rest.
For some reason, the website’s on the fritz. I want to post a comment in the New Spider-Man Title section, but am unable to. Glenn? 🙂
Hi!
Having trouble replying to the next two blog entries. It requires you to sign in and the sign in is busted.
Hope your daughter is doing better.
I enjoyed your Spider-Man run years ago and look forward to seeing you on Spidey again.
Eric