Last Thursday, Clare came home from daycare with a temperature of 100.3. Not that high, really, but she promptly passed the fever, along with the accompanying cough, on to me. We have both been fighting the crud since, and it is tiring. The worst part about having a cough is you just want to sleep it off, but you are constantly awakened by, well, coughing. And when your baby is also coughing, it makes for some very long nights.
I feel bad when Clare coughs. She is just so little, and the cough seems to take over her whole body. She, however, is proving to be just as laid back when sick as she is the rest of the time. I hope I am not speaking too soon here, but look at this face.
Granted, this is a minor illness. And I know it is the first of many that will be brought home from the petri dish that is daycare. I can't think about those future illnesses right now, though. I just want this one to run its course and get out of here.
Hey, I guess at least one of us is resting. I wish I was a baby sometimes. Or at least, I wish I could sleep like one.