The fake-out

L and I were both sick over the weekend. I had some head congestion lethargy malaise thingie; she had a raspy cough and a bit of a fever. Neither of us was drastically sick and the rest of the family carried on without us as she and I spent a lot of time on the couch and near a tissue box.

Yesterday morning I felt better enough (which is not the same as better) but L was sounding worse and her fever hadn't left. We visited the pediatrician and she was diagnosed with croup and gifted with a steroid snack.

As kiddie illnesses go, I love croup: because once they get the steroid, they improve almost immediately. And so it was. By midday when I was trying to convince L that we should snuggle up for a rest together, she was literally climbing furniture. I closed my eyes for a second and she called down from above. Mama! I got on top of your bed! And she was smiling down from the ledge at the top of our headboard.

Fever-free and full of vigor, that girl went straight to daycare this morning.

But daycare called around 4 this afternoon. She had a fever of 101.5. It climbed to almost 103 by bedtime tonight. I'm not typing this out to be alarmist because any virus that would dare to take on this girl would have to have tenacity, and she'll go say hi to her doctor again in the morning.

But: oh, my baby.





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