Fever

100.9

We should have known, when she woke up early and a little fussy. We should have known when she only wanted to be held, and Matthew cradled her on his chest, as he had when she was an infant, and she nearly fell asleep there, in his warm embrace.

She snuggled this way at less than a month old, too.

We should have known when she napped at 9:15 in the morning – we should have known because of the napping, period.

If something seems wrong, it probably is.

After her nap, I checked, and her armpit temp was 100.9 – and you’re supposed to add .9 for a “regular” temperature, making it 101.8.

After spending at least half of the day in bed and eating only a piece of a pumpkin bar and half of a saltine over the course of the day, she called it a night by seven o’clock. Her adjusted armpit temperature was 102.3. Her eyes never had their alert look; they only foretold sleep.

She’s never been this lethargic, this happy just to sit on our laps or lie down next to us. I hope sleep does its restorative job and that she perks up, like a flower in the rain, by the morning.

The battle of little big girl: or, bees aren’t the only ones with hives

The war began, before her nap, in a small way: a small spot on her face, a small spot on her right heiny cheek – like bug bites. After her nap, her body was a blossoming and blooming of pink puffiness, like an 80’s jacket gone awry, a hive of activity. The war was in full swing. The heiny spot was the size of a navel orange, with smaller spots marching down her leg, up her torso, and down her arm, fanning out in formation. Her right cheek was swollen as if from hand-to-face combat. Oddly, only her right side suffered, itchy, red, and angry, as if this reaction and her body had drawn a line of demarcation in their war against each other.

A trip to the pediatrician’s office yielded little: not poison oak, not poison ivy, but hives, an allergic reaction to…something. Yes, certainly, something. No new foods, no clear insect bites?  Ah. Well. Give her 1/2 tsp. of Benadryl and use hydrocortisone to fend off the encroaching army. If you have further problems, call.

And so it was. After her nap the next day, the battle shifted to her left side, with her left cheek, leg, and side of her torso entering the fray. What did the battle plan look like, and how much of her topographical map did the forces intend to cover? We feared for her valleys and plains, mountains and plateaus.

By the next day, Sunday, however, the war fizzled. The sides forgot what they were fighting over. The last remaining territories, her ankles, went out with only small skirmishes. The troops departed.

We were none the wiser about the cause, but then again, the true causes of war are often obfuscated.

And all was quiet on the toddler’s front. And back.