Dead tired

Maddie celebrated her Grandparents' Vallier visit with a big case of s.i.c.k.  What has been a chesty cough on and off last week turned into a sucky, grumpy, fever-ish baby as of Saturday afternoon.  

Because she responded so well to the Tylenol each time and she was really chewing on her fingers, I kept thinking that perhaps the whole sickness could be chalked up to that last damn molar coming through.

Then she spent 4 hours awake last night.  Oh yes, from 10:30-2:30.  4 hours.  Awake.  Nothing worked.  Baby Tylenol.  Infant Motrin.  Orajel.  Warm bottle.  Cold bottle.  Cold compress.  Dancing in Mommy's arms.  Being rocked in Daddy's arms.  Lying in the bed with us.

Nothing worked.

I ended up letting her cry for a bit, hoping that if anything, it would tire her out to the point that she'd just fall asleep.

Nope.

And so I rocked.  And I sang.  And I cheated and turned the iPod on.  And I rubbed her back.  And I played with her hair.  And ohmygod does my back hurt from leaning over the crib.

She finally fell asleep and stayed that way until about 7am.  At which point she was feverish but happy.

More tylenol.  Some breakfast cajoling.  And lots and lots of JUICE!

She went to daycare this morning, but was starting to fever again when I called to check in, so I've picked her up - she's sleeping at the moment and we have a dr's appt at 3:15.  

I know this sounds bad, but I hope it's something.  As in something diagnosable and treatable.  As in - something that we can quantify and medicate.  As in something other than, "oh it's just a virus that needs to run it's course" because damn!  Bad timing with a week packed with work presentations and off-site meetings and downtown meetings and conference calls and, and, and...

Anyone have a spine I can borrow?

xxoo.S