The fever started on Friday night. Well, there was a fever the week before, but it came and went so fast it was hardly noticeable. This fever has decided that it wants us to notice.
Saturday afternoon, the fever raged, turning Little L into a hot sack of potatoes in my arms as we toured Berkeley with the visiting family.
Sunday the fever raged as we sat around the house, cooped up and itching to get out.
Monday it spiked to 104.9.
Today it hovered in the 104s again.
We don't worry. We don't panic. We dish out water and Motrin and wait to see if the little girl perks up. When she hops up off the couch to go dress her doll we breathe easy.
Four days though. Four days and no end in sight of this bizarre virus. I'm canceling plans right and left and working around her needs for cuddles and love.
My routine was in the air because of the family's visit and now it hangs there, waiting for Little L to recover, for daycare to be an option again.
I miss my table at Starbucks.
I miss having a vague idea of what I'll accomplish during the day.
But if I'm really honest, I'm kind of enjoying this down-time with my baby. When the fever isn't too bad she's fun to cuddle.