The other day, Anya had a fever at daycare.  After spending part of the day at home with Daddy she seemed fine that night.  Then she went to bed. 

She woke around 10:45 and was crying and upset.  And hot.  We took her temp and she was 104 degrees.  Not good.  After putting a cool cloth on her forehead and stripping off the jammies, we decided to stick her in a cool bath.  The Tylenol was just not kicking in soon enough for us.

I’m pretty sure she thought we were torturing her.  It broke my heart.  She would plead to one and then the other to get her out.  She didn’t want to sit in the tub so I poured the water on her.  When I would put the cup down she would pick it up and try to put it out of the tub.  It was a mean cup, you see.  She wanted it out!

When her temp dropped we got her out and cuddled her.  Amazingly her brother slept through the screaming.  She slept with us so we could keep an eye on her and check her temp.  I still put a damp cloth on her forehead and then on her chest since she was heating up again.  Finally, her fever broke at some point in the night.

The next day she was fine, of course.  These little beings are so resilient, and she didn’t seem to bear any ill will towards her torturers of the previous night.