I'm still recovering from Z's birthday on Thursday and her birthday party on Saturday. It all went well actually, which can only be the result of all my magically protective worrying. (Shhhhh. DON'T TELL ME MY INSOMNIA WAS IN VAIN.)
Now it's back to reality.
The usual Monday morning mundanity: a tower of laundry, a dog who needs a vet appointment, a house of things out of their rightful places....and a daughter with a tummy-ache, just like many days the last few months. When these tummy-aches started, Z whimpered "Mommy, my tummy hurts" and I ran at her with a bowl in one hand and a thermometer in the other. She's had her fair share of nasty tummy bugs in her life which have seared nightmarish images into my brain. And they all started with those fateful words: "Mommy, my tummy hurts."
But nothing happened. And she kept complaining at random intervals.
I started keeping track of what she was eating, First I wondered if it had to do with the green veggie powder I was adding to her breakfast smoothies in an attempt to get some vegetables into her Cheese and Carb Diet. Then I wondered if it was the Cheese and Carb Diet itself.
But nothing we take out or adjust seems to make much of a difference.
We do have a doctor's appointment to talk about this, of course, though I can't imagine the doctor will have a quick and easy explanation. It could be lactose intolerance. It could be something else more exotic. But it's starting to seem like it may be an acute case of Nervous Tummy, which would be yet another crappy inheritance from me. A deeply emotional girl internalizing stress in her tummy? That's something I know a little about.
What else I know? The next time she actually DOES have a tummy bug, she's going to tell us her tummy hurts and we'll nod and murmur "uh huh" and turn away.
Hopefully we turn away in time to miss the .....you know what.