Is there anything more pitiful than a sick baby?  I think not.

The daycare called us around 3:30pm to let us know that Neeps was rocking a fever of 102.4  Nathan went to go pick him up, and he immediately fell asleep in the car.  Then Nathan picked me up, and we went to the drug store to get some baby Tylenol.  Neeps woke up again when we got home, and played for a bit before devolving into a fretful puddle.  We gave him some medicine, and shortly thereafter his fever spiked to over 104.  A call to the doctor's office reassured us, and after the medicine had enough time to kick in his fever dropped back down to a less-alarming level.  Plus he fell asleep in my arms, naturally while I was sitting in the most uncomfortable position possible on the hard wood floor.

With some help from Nathan I did eventually manage to transfer myself (and sleeping baby) up onto the couch, where we stayed until his bedtime, at which point Nathan and I took him upstairs and tucked him in.  He slept for about an hour, then woke up and cried so pitifully that I went up and rocked him again.  His temperature was still down, but he didn't want any milk or water or medicine- just snuggles and recitations of Goodnight Moon.  So snuggles and recitations he had, for another hour, until at last he drifted off again.

I'm hoping he feels better by the morning- I hate feeling so helpless to make it better.  I'm just feeling lucky that he's so rarely so unwell.

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