My Sick Baby

I should have knocked on some wood when I declared Raynes fever-free yesterday. Wrong.  High fever has returned (though thankfully not 105 degrees), as are the snuggles, late night whispers and hugs in the rocking chair, and round the clock Motrin and Tylenol adminitration.

Not to sound munchausen syndrome-like, but I do love the fringe benefits of a sick baby. The cuddles. The boy never sits still so I savor every moment in the rocking chair with his little head on my chest, him purring like a little cat {a cat with a fever hot forehead}, my rubbing his eyes telling him I know he feels bad.

Crawling was just too much effort

He crawls around with a little tears pathatecially rolling down his face. This too shall pass and he will be back to his squirmy, curious and happy self- soon, I hope.

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