I never thought I’d get to the point where I forgot what sleep-deprivation was really like. Pixie, while still not a great sleeper, has been much better the last few months. I even commented to Jenna that perhaps I was feeling broody because I didn’t remember sleep-deprivation.
The very next day, Pixie got sick.
I fetched her from school and Teacher Bumblebee commented that Pixie felt a bit hot when she woke her. Teacher Bumblebee grabbed the thermometer – 38.1°C. “No problem,” I said. “It’s probably those molars. I’ll give her Nurofen at home.”
The Nurofen worked. Pixie ran around the garden all afternoon and I relaxed.
Then came suppertime.
The fever was back. Pixie didn’t want to eat. It was the end of the world. More Nurofen, a tepid bath, a screaming two-year-old, and an early bedtime.
But the worst was yet to come.
Pixie ended up sleeping in our bed later that night so I could keep an eye on her temperature, which remained stubbornly high despite Nurofen and Panado. How high I cannot tell you, because we discovered that night that our thermometer was broken. I suspect the girls had been playing doctor. Sigh.
It was a long, long, long, long night.
I took Pixie to see Doctor M the next day. “Red throat, red ears,” Doctor M said, handing Pixie a lollipop and me a script for antibiotics. (I wanted a lollipop too.)
Pixie spent the next few days on the couch, watching movies while I fed her Nurofen and Panado to keep her fever down. She spent the nights in bed with me, waking just about every hour to ask for water.
By Saturday, the fever was gone but the snot had started. Rivers of snot! I’m not exaggerating. She was still sleeping with me, this time waking every hour so I could wipe her nose.
The two of us skipped church on Sunday. I sat on the couch with a book, trying to read but not absorbing anything. Pixie kept coming to show me her snot bubbles and ask for tissues.
She’s back at school now and I’m trying o work out where I can squeeze in some naps this week. There is no word for how tired I am right now.
For the record, I am no longer broody. Not in the least. (Sorry, Mom. You’ll have to look to your other children for more babies.)
How do you cope with sleep-deprivation?