I love picking up C at the end of the day. I love when she sees me, drops everything and runs to hug me. It makes the day fade into the background. She runs and throws herself against me, squealing “mamy! mamy!” and all the stress and angst of the past eight hours vanish in a puff. My focus shifts and I’m instantly 100% mommy.
With C snugly ensconced in my arms I turn to her daycare provider and ask about her day. She shares an anecdote or two, tells me what they had for lunch, tells me about her nap. We grab C’s milk and head for the car. At least, that’s what usually happens.
Today I got there and K, the daycare provider, lifted up C’s arm and showed me some bug bites on the underside. Then she lifted up her other arm and showed me some more. For a few minutes I was willing to speculate that C had been chewed up by fleas. Our cat brings home fleas all the time, she’s been bitten before, whatever. At that moment the pediatrician mom of another child came in and I jokingly said that we should ask her opinion. Without even looking she declared the bites to actually be a rash. The simple fact that her son had it a few days ago confirmed it for her. Just a basic virus, nothing to worry about. Though it could always be Chicken Pox, the modified version that kids get if they’ve been vaccinated. Either way there’s nothing to be done at this point. (You have to love having a daycare mom who’s a pediatrician. She saved me a lot of time and a $30 co-pay.)
C’s rash doesn’t seem to be getting worse, though she is running a low grade fever. I’m hoping that tomorrow she’s feeling well enough to go to daycare, because honestly, as much as I love picking C up at the end of the day, I’m really looking forward to spending an hour alone at a coffee shop before getting her.
You have to love