Tara was off her food for a couple of days. Daycare reported that presented with lunch on Tuesday – which was chicken, a perennial favourite – her face crumpled up and when asked to eat, she actually started to cry. They questioned her health and wellbeing, including asking whether potty was impending, but all she said was, “I don’t want to eat.” Thankfully, as per our strict instructions, they let it go at that.
At dinner time, she drank her milk happily enough and went off to play; but by 8 p.m. when I called them for their bedtime routine, she was becoming cranky and clingy. It was expected by then, of course. If a child doesn’t eat for a couple of days, it’s bound to portend illness and the sooner it makes itself evident, the sooner we’ll know exactly what kind of a beast we’re up against.
Tara looked uncomfortable and tearful for a good solid hour before she made us all a little happier by throwing up in the bathroom. The papaya she’d had in the afternoon came up; the milk she’d had a couple of hours later, strangely enough, stayed down. After we’d got everything cleaned up, we left them in their room and they were both soon asleep.
It was 4 a.m. before the sequel was enacted. Tara coughed mildly in her sleep, woke up, and came to us crying that she’d vomited. I couldn’t see any evidence of vomit, so I thought she’d probably just coughed up some phlegm and I put her back to bed. This happened another couple of times before I realized what was going on. Of course – she was hungry! And her cough was making her retch. Around 5.30 I gave up on sleep and gave her some food instead. She ate eagerly enough and – thankfully – it stayed down. She went back to bed for a short while and then it was time for breakfast. She had her milk again, but soon after that, instead of looking happier, she began to look positively woeful. By 7.10 a.m. she was steadfastly refusing to go to school.
I’m happy to say that my girls are not the sort to actually want to miss school. Like me (and unlike my sister), they love school. They go eagerly and enthusiastically and they don’t quite understand why we have to have weekends. So if either of them doesn’t want to go to school, it means she really, really doesn’t want to go. Even when Mrini traipsed out of the door with Amit, smiling happily and waving, Tara only sat in my lap, clung to me, and looked miserable.
It was a complicated sort of day. Tara and I changed out of work and school clothes into home clothes. I had to unpack the kids’ lunch and reduce everything to make it suitable for one child. Then Amit forgot to take Mrini’s lunch with him to drop off at daycare on his way to work. Additionally, there was some kind of strike in the private van industry, which meant that the kids’ school van wouldn’t pick Mrini up from school and take her to daycare. So it was beginning to look like I’d have my hands full, lugging Tara to school, picking up Mrini, dropping her at daycare, and coming back home with Tara, all before lunch. I could also have just brought Mrini home – but then I’d have my hands full anyway, and why deprive her of the fun of daycare?
It all turned out well enough, though. Tara rapidly improved in the morning and when she looked grumpy and I asked her why, it turned out it wasn’t her stomach; it wasn’t a fever; she wasn’t tired or hungry or thristy; she was just missing Mrini. From 10 a.m. she asked me every few minutes when we were going to fetch Mrini. When the doorbell rang, she wanted to know if Mrini had come home.
Whenever she wasn’t asking about Mrini, she sat sweetly next to me “reading” a book, colouring in a drawing book, singing songs to herself, and hardly disturbing me at all. It was hard to believe this docile little girl was Tara!
By the time we went to get Mrini, Tara was sure (sore – as she says it) that she wanted to go to daycare. I guess the thought of spending the entire day at home without Mrini was too much to bear! So I lugged up the forgotten lunch bag, put back in all the food I’d taken out, got out of my ragged home clothes and put on my office clothes again, and left to pick up Mrini from school. The drive was more chaotic than usual due to a few new spanners the civic authorities had thrown into the works, so we got there ten minutes late, but Mrini wasn’t complaining. The girls greeted each other with utter indifference. I asked Mrini if she’d missed Tara and she said “No. I was in school.” I told her Tara had missed her and she looked faintly disgusted, while Tara looked distinctly embarrassed.
I dropped them off at daycare, updated the coordinator, and got to office just in time for lunch.
At the end of the day, when I picked them up, I was informed that Tara had been ok and though she didn’t eat much lunch, she ate a hearty mid-afternoon snack. Mrini, on the other hand, was distinctly off her food. Looks like it’s her turn next. If this is a stomach viral that Amit brought back from Delhi, it might even be my turn after that… Sigh.