Twenty-Four Hours of Ick

Yesterday morning, as usual, Mal didn't want to leave home. This time it was to go to church. He generally doesn't handle transitions well. As we approached the church building, we slowed to let some people cross the street to get to the megachurch across the road from our little church. Mal thought it was a grocery store, and cried when I started driving the rest of the way. "Mal want to get out at the store!"

THEN, after church, he didn't want to leave church, but wanted to stay and play. However, I'd told him we'd go to the mall, and even though he insisted that he'd rather go to the grocery store, he decided it would be okay.

We got a little bit of lunch first-- Well, I did. Mal didn't eat the pizza slice I got him, but was happy to play on the play area and browse the Disney Store. He fell asleep on the way home, which I knew he would, but it was early enough that I wasn't freaked out.

When he woke up, he desperately wanted soda. As usual, I offered to let him have some of mine if he'd go get a straw. He said, "No! Mal want a new one." So I went to the refrigerator to get a Diet Mt. Dew, and he said, "No! Mal want brown soda!" We didn't have any, but that didn't stop him from crying about it for half an hour.

Finally, James went to the gas station to get Mal a "brown soda." Literally as James was closing our front door on the way out, a wall of water poured down from the sky, so he got to enjoy an impromptu warm dousing on his errand.

When he got back, James was rewarded with gratitude in a way that only a two-year-old can express it: "Mal happy again! Daddy, Mal happy again!" He drank about 1/4 cup of the soda, and went on with life.

He was puny and didn't eat the rest of the day, save a few strands of buttery spaghetti I'd made for him. He was tuckered by 5:30 PM, and I let him go to sleep. He was feverish and woke up fairly frequently, each time murmuring something both incoherent and adorable. Sometimes, he'd giggle. Sometimes he'd say, "Mal can't find it anywhere!"

I went to bed at 8:30, because I had a feeling. That feeling came to fruition at 3:00 AM when Mal woke up and decided it was time to get up. Although I told him it was the middle of the night and time to sleep, D proved him right by being up and doing stuff. We went to the restroom and then let the dog out. We sat on the back porch while the dog did her stuff, and then came back in.

Mal told me that he wanted French fries and, forgetting we're in Texas where there are Whataburgers everywhere, I told him nothing was open. Then he said he wanted to go to to the pool, which I'd promised him we'd do today.

It took about an hour of Mal insisting it was time to get up and my asking him just to hang out with me for a while before he finally laid down in my "lap" (or what would have been if I'd been sitting up, but I was lying down, so...) and slowly dozed off.

This morning, he woke up around 7, normal time, and I told him we could go to Sonic for fries if he wanted; he declined. Meanwhile, James was getting ready to head out... and his car wouldn't start. He threw the car seat out of his old (now my) car and took off, cementing the notion that we wouldn't be going to the pool today.

Second sign that we weren't going: Mal still didn't feel well. He woke up a couple of times, but didn't get out of bed until about 9:45, more than two hours later than usual.

When he woke up, I again asked him if he wanted French fries. He said, "Watermeemon." We don't have any watermelon. Anything else? "Dinosaur juice." Um. "What's in dinosaur juice?" Mal very happily reported: "Grapes..." "We have grapes!" "Apples..." "We have apples!" "Watermeemon..." "We don't have that, but we can make some juice. Come on!"

We walked into the kitchen and he said, "Use the blender!" So I got out an apple, some green and some purple grapes, a kiwi, and... Mal added a second apple.

I had a sieve and filter lined up to strain the juice, but we didn't need it, as the Ninja does such a fabulous job of pulverizing food.

Action shot! Here it is, mid-puree swirl!

So Mal got his dinosaur juice with all of the fabulous fiber of the original fruit, already pre-digested! You're sold, aren't you?

Mal was puny most of the day, lounging around watching Peppa Pig (the source of the dinosaur juice idea) and playing in his room. 

Oh, and kind of being fussier than usual.

For instance: I'd taken advantage of his lower-than-usual level of activity to make these chocolate chip cookies. Mal had seen me working, and after the dough was resting in the fridge (as it is supposed to overnight, or, in my calculations, until at least 7:00 PM), he asked for a cookie. I told him we didn't have any, and he said, "Chocolate chip cookie!" I explained that I couldn't bake them until tomorrow, and, oh, how he cried.

I went into the kitchen and found some chocolate animal crackers, which I showed him, and which he soundly refused. I told him that was all we had, I put some in a snack cup for him, and he firmly answered, "NO, thank you!"

Well, okay.

There was some more crying, and begging me for a "real" cookie, so I finally decided just to bake half of the cookies and, in the name of science, compare them with ones I'll bake tomorrow to see how much better they are after sitting around 24 hours (or up to 3 days).

Cut to half an hour later when the cookies came out of the oven: Mal had eaten all of the chocolate animal crackers and I showed him that the chocolate chip cookies were out of the oven. I offered him one, and he hollered like I'd offered him poison and said, "More brown cookies!" *sigh*

The same kind of thing happened later, when he said he wanted pizza. I didn't have the ingredients or the energy to make dinner, anyway, so said I'd order him a pizza, James a sandwich, and D some chicken wings. Mal said, "No, Mommy, bake it!" This is as opposed to last Thursday when he saw the pizza delivery vehicle across the street and said he wanted some. When I offered to make it, he said, "No! Mal want car pizza!"

I did order the pizza, and he kept asking about it. Until it got here. Then he wanted fruit snacks, which we don't have. I told him I could run to the store to get some, but he said, "We have in house! Do!" Which we don't.

He spent about 45 minutes crying about how he did want fruit snacks, he didn't want me to go get them, and how we DID have some at home before he finally went to sleep.

For like two hours.

James was home when Mal woke up this time, and James had sweetly brought a couple of things of fruit snacks from the office stash. But by now, Mal had decided that he wanted Oreos. He didn't want me to go get them. He didn't want his dad to go get them. He just wanted them. And he wanted us all to stay home.

Then he wanted French fries. I asked if he wanted to make them or to go get some, and he didn't want either of those options. He just wanted French fries.

After about 30 minutes of crying for French fries and my telling him we could have gone to Sonic or put a dent in baking some by then, he finally agreed to make them at home. He wanted me to hold him while I made them, but since I had to actually cut potatoes, it was a no-go. He got over that, then he wanted to cut the potatoes himself. I don't mind letting him use a knife, but not on potatoes just yet. Plus, he's all weepy and clumsy and just a mess.

Anyway, it's 9:30 and the red potato "fries" just got out of the oven. Mal is sitting at the bar, eating them happily. "Mal really hungry!" I'll bet he is. I think his fever has broken, and I don't know when he'll ever go back to sleep, but hopefully this means he's better.

Incidentally, the battery was just dead in James's car. We thought it might be something more serious since the "check engine" light came on this weekend, but the guy who came out to check said that there weren't any codes coming up on his diagnostic machine, so maybe there was some weird charging thing.

So, how was your Monday?