Well, this weekend was interesting to say the very least.
Poor Cameron had a cold.
I knew something was up Friday night.
When it was bedtime, he didn't want a bottle (SHOCKER), instead he wanted to be rocked to sleep.
*swoon*
At the time I thought this was the best idea yet.
Then along came Saturday.
Saturday was a bad, bad day.
Paul had to be at work by 1pm.
So we headed out to look at a few houses.
We warned our realtor that Cameron wasn't feeling in a good mood.
Brian said he didn't believe it, Cameron is always happy.
So, of course Cameron had to prove me wrong.
:/
Well, close to 12 we headed home & Cameron went down for a nap.
After he woke up from his nap the real fun began.
He woke up screaming (I hate that), when I went to pick him up he was HOT.
Not sweaty hot, but pleasedontbesick kind of hot.
I won't lie, I freaked.
I took his temp, and it was 102.4 :( :( :(
I texted Ruth (from daycare) right away.
And she said the dreaded words: Urgent care.
I was home alone.
Paul wouldn't be home until late.
And I'm miles, hundreds of miles away from family.
Living far away can majorly suck some days.
I finally called my bestie Diana.
Even thought it may seem like common sense I needed to hear it from someone.
"Call the Dr. Brandy"
I called & I'm so glad I did.
She calmed me down 99% (he was still sick, I couldn't let my guard down).
After a quick run to pick up medicine (fyi, don't walk to the store w/a sick child. No matter how close it may be, no matter how much he loves the outdoors), his temp went down.
I didn't retake it, the dr. told me not to.
I would only drive myself crazy.
She knows me so well. :)
The lowest point of that day was not really knowing what to do.
He wanted to be held, I held him.
He wanted me to rub/run my fingers down his back until he fell asleep, I did that through out the day.
He wanted a chocolate chip cookie, ok even I have a limit. ;)
By Monday we went to visit the Dr. and he was clear of any infection.
He just had a cold, thank goodness!
So for $35 I had piece of mind & now know (for a fact) that he weighs 19 lbs.
I guess the fruit scale at the market doesn't lie, hehe.
I should be thankful (which I am) that he doesn't get sick often.
But, when he does.
It pulls on my heart strings.
So again, Rule #1: Babies shouldn't be allowed to get sick.
What's a post without pics?
A boring one.
With that said, my baby is a goof, cold and all. :)
The carpet needs love too.
