Month 8: The Disease Called "Daycare"

Yes, Daniel has it. The disease called "daycare". It's a tricky disease, taking on new symptoms every other day. And apparently it lasts for months.

Finally tired of responding to "How's Daniel doing?" with "Not so great...", we took Daniel into the doctor's office today. His seemingly endless two month run of being under the weather included everything from spiking fevers to crazy long naps to projectile vomiting (more on that in a minute). The doctor listened patiently as I recited all the symptoms, and then he said "You're not going to like what I have to say" followed by a little speech on how Daniel most likely will be this way, on and off, until Spring.

I'm not surprised - I had half expected the "daycare" speech. It's funny how something that does so much good can also do harm - but on the flip side, the doc said that if he has a rough winter this year, next year's will be easy and uneventful (in the good way).

Back to the projectile vomiting... I have always read that you know your baby is vomiting (not just spitting up) when they eject the entire contents of their stomach. And I always thought, "How do you know what's the entire contents?"

On Sunday, I discovered the answer: You just know. No question. He drank a few ounces... sat up... got a strange look on his face... and BOOM! All over every piece of bedding we own. That stuff probably got 8 - 10 inches of horizontal air before gravity took it's toll. In one of my finer moments, I yelled "Holy crap!" and leaped off the bed, stripping Daniel, my bed, and myself all at the same time.

In other equally messy news, we got Daniel a high chair. One of those very functional $20 IKEA models... and it's fantastic. He does great in it, and it seems to encourage less-distracted eating than our other attempts at improv-chairs. He's doing much better with solids, and now loves to eat strips of toast and fruit along with his baby food.

He's crawling all over the place, and standing everywhere too (usually using the wobbliest chair he can find as support). We lovingly refer to him as "destructo" but I know we're in for much much worse as he learns to walk and (heaven forbid) run.

On a closing note, Daniel has never lacked for attention anywhere he's been. At home, he's adored. With extended family, he's revered. At daycare, he's treated very very well. But this last week I realized just how much he's fawned over at our church nursery on the weekends. We had a small weekday event where he was the only baby in the infant room, and instead of going home early, four nursery workers all stayed just to play with him. To take turns literally passing him around. The same thing happened one early service last Sunday, and four (different) volunteers came in the infant room to dote on him. When we arrive to the nursery, he's greeted with choruses of "It's Daniel!" "Hello my Danielson!" "He's here!!" Sometimes, they say hi to me too.

It's funny, but it makes me breathe easier to know that mine is the baby they love - not the one they dread. To know that it makes their day that much better when Daniel is in it. I jokingly call them his "weekend mommies" - not that I want to be replaced, but I love knowing that Daniel gets the most possible love all the time ... even when I can't be there.