Ack!

When I lifted Babygirl from her crib this morning, she seemed warm. Her hands seemed strangely warm to me. I haven't used a baby thermometer for years and years, but I can tell from my baby's hands if she is feverish. I toted her to my husband and asked him if he thought she was warm. "No," he said, and finished putting on his shiny shoes.

So we went to church, where I ended up manning the nursery since I coordinate the volunteers and the scheduled volunteer was a no-show. Half-way through, Babygirl began to fuss. The fuss accelerated into a full-blown cry. I realized that she, indeed, was feverish.

When we returned home, I gave Babygirl some ibuprofen. She promptly gagged it onto my skirt in a mucusy wad of vomit. Then she napped a bit. She woke when my mother brought YoungestBoy home. She'd taken him after church to McDonald's. (My twins went from church to a friend's home to play.) I visited with my mother for a while. Babygirl played happily, fueled by her twenty minute nap.

My husband was home from 3:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m., then returned to church for more meetings. Babygirl grew crabbier as the day went on. She did keep some ibuprofen down when I tried again at 2:30 p.m. She took another nap. She nursed on and off all afternoon, and ate snacks here and there.

At 7 p.m., after an hour-long attempt to nurse her to sleep, she slumped over on my shoulder and fell into an immediate sleep without nursing at all. That was the first time that she ever went to sleep at night without nursing. I am hopeful that she'll wake up cheerful in the morning with no sign of the fever. This is the illness that DaycareKid brought to us last Thursday.

I've watched the Golden Globes while reading a few chapters of "I Sleep at Red Lights" and now I will drop into bed so I can begin another exciting week of getting by. Oh joy.