Yesterday was our first day with 2 kids in a grandma-free home. Eager to establish routine, forbidding myself from moping as my mom flew across the ocean, I made my check list. By 4pm I was feeling pretty good about my accomplishments. We might just make it on our own after all.
Somewhere around 6pm a sudden fever began to pick up steam. By 8pm when Jude was tucking in for bed, I was watching Anne of Green Gables from the couch. By midnight it was 103 and miserable. Even Tylenol would only reduce it to the 101 range. H
Could someone call the airline and get my mom off that plane?
It was a long night with baby in tow. By morning I was exhausted and at 103 again. David was my hero. He strapped that baby into the carrier, man handled Jude and took the whole crew off to the playground for hours.
Sometime this afternoon, the fever just left. Not even 24 hours later. A 3 hour nap to recover from the night of little sleep, and I was feeling good.
Hubs comes in to check on me. He's looking pekid.
I stick the thermometer in his mouth. 101 and on the rise. I pack him off to bed. He tries to protest. Says I'm still weak and need to recover. The protests aren't hard to overcome though. I know how he feels...just walked down that miserable road.
Here's to the hope that Jude & Silas wake up from their naps fever-free.