Lesson Learned: Clear the Floor!

Yesterday started out a little earlier and much more eventful than usual, but thankfully everyone is fine. 

His favorite bathroom toy.

To wit: Fragrant Junior, who, when congested, usually hangs out on the bathroom floor playing with a tabo while one of us showers so he can be steamed like a dumpling, got his hands on a bottle of toilet bowl cleaner. His dad stepped out of the shower to the terrifying sight of Baby with blue liquid (on the floor). 

Fragrant Husband went into Dad Emergency Mode, lifted him up, and hollered for me. We both checked his breath (seemed fine), washed his hands (twice), and Hubby called Poison Control, whose number I have saved on my phone, because this is exactly why. 

Throughout all this, Baby was his usual cheery self, and my Mom-radar wasn't going off, so I concluded that he hadn't swallowed the cleaner, and instead had just indulged in his new favorite activity, which is banging things around (hence the spilled liquid).

But Dad Emergency Mode, once engaged, takes about 48 hours to wind down. "I'm taking him to the ER," Hubby announced. Faced with the unleashed elemental power of a frantic father, I ninja-packed a bottle of milk and snacks for Baby and Hubby as he strapped Baby to his stroller. Then off he drove like a maniac to the ER. 

They kept Baby under observation for a few hours, and did a test to check for blood in his esophagus (none), using spit-up Hubby had collected and saved in a tissue. (He explained it like this: "So after Baby eats, he spits up a bit because he has a nice round belly and he's always scrunching himself up and putting pressure on it.")

During the wait, Hubby learned that sodium hydroxide (as opposed to bleach) is what worries medical professionals in cases like this. He was given a list of symptoms to watch for, and he pointed out that "excessive drooling" isn't helpful because Baby is teething (one out, one erupting)--he drools buckets on the regular. Anyway, oher signs included gurgling, difficulty breathing, and vomiting. 

Sent off with a clean bill of health, Baby spent the rest of the day under the hawk-like gaze of his pater, consuming his entire ration of defrosted breastmilk and greedily demanding more, the little scamp. 

When I returned home after my shift in the coal mines, I beheld a beaming baby and a haggard dad. 

Ah, the joys of parenting. 

This post brought to you by Medela Pump in Style Advanced! I am literally pumping breastmilk while writing this post. Ah, the joys of motherhood.