Yesterday afternoon, I got the dreaded phone call.
You know – the one from daycare where they tell you your child has just spiked a fever and you have to drop everything and come get them right now. No matter what. And they can’t come back for at least 24 hours.
Luckily, the DPC came in a mere 15 minutes before the DreadBrewer was done for the day. And doubly luckily. he works at a pretty awesome place that was cool with him staying home with the Littlest Brewster tomorrow. ((On a side note, I feel like a crap mom since this is the second time in the last 3 weeks that DB has had to stay home with her and I go waltzing off to work. Not that I don’t want to stay home with her, she just happens to get sick on days that I can’t miss. Can’t you time these things a little bit better, LB?))
So last night we dosed her up with some Tylenol and gave her a quick bath, since she was not interested in splashing in the tub like usual. Then I offered to give her her bottle (all 2.5 ounces of it!) and put her down as I was leaving DB to his own devices today.
The Littlest Brewster cuddled up on me, had her bottle, switched it out for her paci, and rolled over to snuggle tummy to tummy for a bit like she usually does. Then, almost immediately, her head popped up, she pointed to her crib and said, “Beh.”
I said, “Don’t you want to cuddle, buddy?” and tried to get her to snuggle on me. I wanted to say, “I’m your mom. You’re sick. Ergo, we cuddle.”
But she wasn’t having it.
She climbed out of my lap and toddled over to her crib and stood there, looking at me as if to say, “I want nothing to do with you, woman. Put me in my crib!”
I thought I was supposed to have at least another decade before she wanted nothing to do with me! She’s not supposed to ditch me for years!
My only comfort lies in telling myself she just wanted to go to bed because she felt bad, not that she already hates me as all teenagers hate their parents.
If only this weren’t the second night in a row that she did that, I might believe myself…