What a rude awakening . While this weekend was all about me, hard cold reality was waiting for me when I got home this morning.
Pookah had a fever.
The same fever that started unexpectedly on Saturday night, only to continue off and on Sunday.
Foolishly, I prayed and hoped that by the time I got home from work Monday morning, the fever would be gone and Pookah could make his way to daycare. And my day would go according to plan: run, eat, sleep, start dinner, pick up Pookah.
The universe laughed.
I came home to a happy Pookah… With fever.
Say it with me folks:
Damn damn damn!
So now I’m sitting in the pediatrician’s office, where we have been for the last hour and a half. Pookah reached his limit an hour ago, and is now screaming running around his exam room like a baby on a Kool Aid sugar high. He screams, he yells, he yells “no” at regular intervals when you tell him to stop.
I’ve stopped and started this post many many times, and right now, Pookah has dragged all of the chairs in the center of the room and is attempting to climb them all.
I’m too tired to say no anymore. My head hurts. I’m dizzy with fatigue and hunger, and frankly, if he makes a flying leap, at least we’re surrounded by doctors.
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