A cheap fare to Orlando led us to take the opportunity to get the kids together with one set of their great grandparents. The plan was simple - fly into Orlando, take a nice drive up to Daytona Beach, spend time with family, maybe play in the sand a little bit... sounds nice, right?
Well.... then Andrew came down with a stomach bug on the Thursday prior. The vomit, the diarrhea, the fever, the whole nine yards. He spent the day on the couch drifting in and out of sleep and watching movies. Our plans to travel were officially on hold.
But then... on Friday he seemed much better. We were scheduled to fly midday on Saturday. Due to our status, we have the ability to shift our flights by a day if availability exists, so we decided to see how he was feeling on Saturday morning and then decide to go, or to move the flight to Sunday and leave another day of observation.
By Saturday morning (or even Friday night!) he seemed like his usual self. By the time we got the the airport, he had been fever free for over 24 hours and vomit free for almost 48. We opted to go ahead and go.
I will spare you the long drawn out story, but on our two flights (COS-ORD and ORD-MCO) and in the O'Hare Airport, we experienced two episodes of diaperless explosive diarrhea (one of those in the United Club in Chicago) and two episodes of projectile vomiting (one of those in the first class cabin). There was nothing to do but press on, so that's what we did.
|Newly minted Premier Gold baby|
But... we got to the hotel and he seemed to be feeling better. He had a good night's sleep, and in the morning he was himself again.
So we packed him up in the car to head up to Daytona. Not five minutes on the highway and he started to squirm and whimper, "Burp....!" at which point he yakked all over the car. We turned right around. At this point I was really sorry that we had dragged him across the country and doubting my mommy judgement that had said that he was perfectly fine. I was also sad that it looked like we were going to miss visiting the great-grandparents.
Luckily, Daddy came to the rescue and volunteered to stay with the sick boy while he rested, and sent Clara and I up to see the great-grandparents after all. It was a lovely visit, and a good time with just us girls.
Later that night, Andrew couldn't be prevented from eating a rather large BBQ dinner. I was braced for the worst, but he miraculously kept it all in. Interestingly, the explosive poop issue seemed to really have an effect on him and he had no potty accidents for the rest of the trip, in spite of dealing with some (ahem) issues.
|Finally, a happy boy|