Hello, constipation, our old nemesis! I got a call on Friday afternoon, with less than an hour to go until the end of school. James was crying and asking to use the bathroom a lot, with more crying as the only product. He was done for the day.
I picked him up, after sighing mightily on the way over; 45 minutes doesn't sound like much of a difference in a day, until it's suddenly gone from my "Me" time, before a 3-day weekend, when I'll have most of the kid duty.
No going out that night, we had to cancel our plans for a Date Night. I felt guilty for getting him off his schedule on Thursday by going to the gym's daycare later than usual. James will use the bathrooms there, but only if he *must,* so it's pretty safe to say that was less than helpful for his digestive process. We were late for the gym because his sister's homework had piled up, in part because no assignments were done on Monday, James' birthday, and it took a while to get all the work finished.
About an hour into our impromptu night home, James become unstopped. I was told they were record-worthy in mass. He relaxed and became his normal, cheery self, which is a relief. However, we've reverted to pull ups at night again. We've had to step up wiping tutorials.
One little thing. Or maybe nothing in particular. And we're set back and our lives get put on hold for a bit. I know in the scope of what's out there that this is small. It doesn't feel like that, right when it happens.