Feva Drama

It was a crazy weekend. Jett woke up at 3:00 am Thursday with a temperature of 100.9. All of the seasoned parents out there might not bat an eye at 100.9, but we did, and that was just the beginning. By Friday his little thermostat reached 103, and by Saturday it hit a high of 105. Of course by Saturday he was refusing the baby tylenol and motrin that would reduce the fever, so I spent a few hours Saturday afternoon holding Jett and wiping his head and neck with a wet washcloth. (His temperature actually went down two degrees at that point, which just goes to prove that I am indeed SuperMom).

Our last call to the doctor came on Saturday, when he spit up immediately after we tried to give him his motrin (do we give him more motrin right away? would that be an overdose? do we have to wait another 6 hours?). At that point the doctor said that if his temperture wasn't below 101 on Sunday, then we'd probably have to take him to urgent care. Jett apparently can understand everything we say now, and opted out of urgent care and any threat of an I.V., and woke up this morning almost a new person and back to his old self. Still pretty cuddly though. I'm hoping that part sticks around for a while.

In addition to the feva drama, Jett had his nine-month check-up (very efficient use of his doctor appointment, I know). He's still tall and skinny at 29 inches long and 17 pounds, 4 ounces.

In addition to the feva drama and the nine-month check-up, Charlie and I went out Friday night without Jett for the first time since last August. (Yes, we left Jett when he had a fever. But he was taking his medicine then. He was cheerful. The doctor said we could still go out)! Anyway, we went to dinner with friends and then went to the Riv to jump up and down by the stage while we listened to the Great Big Sea. Everyone else sang along, but Charlie and I are new to the Great Big Sea, so all we could do was jump. Still, it was an awesome show. I didn't call home once (and only texted twice).

In addition to the feva drama, the nine-month check-up, and the Great Big Sea, on Saturday night we had 12 friends over for dinner. (Thanks to Charlie's parents for cooking a delish dinner at his sister's and then bringing it over to our house). There is nothing at a party as sweet or pathetic as a baby who doesn't feel good. Thank goodness our friends didn't mind the crying, and thank goodness Jett slept through all of our carousing.

Now he's tucked away in his crib, sleeping like this was the most boring weekend in the world. But it wasn't. It was a weekend of damp baby skin, medicine droppers, ear thermometers, fake irish accents, corned beef and cabbage, celtic music, friends, and fun.

This week I could go for slightly less fun and whole lotta healthy. Fingers crossed.