Mudder's Day

I wasn't in the door from work ten seconds on Friday when Punky ran to me and let the cat out of the bag.

"I got you flowers today, Mommy, at the store! Beautiful flowers! For Mudder's Day, Mommy!"

While I chuckled at her adorable pronunciation of the word 'mother', her dad shot her a disapproving look. "You weren't supposed to tell her! It was supposed to be a surprise for Mother's Day!  I told you it was a secret!  How many times did we talk about this today?"

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she mumbled and turned back to me.  "I got you a card, too, Mommy!" 

So, I got my flowers a few days early but the card waited until Sunday.  Apparently her dad also had a talk with her about being a good girl for me all weekend, and to my surprise it worked.  We've been dealing with some ongoing behavior issues lately, but she was a perfect angel this weekend. 

We went out to dinner on Friday because her dad had to start third shift that night.  In other words, he'd be sleeping most of Saturday and Sunday so it was our only opportunity. 

Saturday was a lazy day.  Well, lazy in the sense that we didn't leave the house or even get out of jammies all day, but I still did dishes, and laundry, and cleaned the bedroom.  While Punky's dad was awake for a few hours in the afternoon, I managed to take a long, relaxing shower.  Alone.  I can't get my ass out of bed early enough before work to swing anything but a five-minute quickie, so shaving is like a present each and every weekend when I can sneak a shower without Punky demanding to join me.  Summer's coming; I'll need to adjust my razor routine. 

Anyway, in between chores and my super shower, Punky and I spent our free time playing.  We colored.  We read books.  We had a picnic on her bunny blanket on the living room floor.  We watching home videos from last year when she was an even smaller runt.  She laughed; I cried a bit.  I spent the day enjoying my amazing little girl, remembering what was, pondering what's to come, and loving her to pieces.  She slept with me that night and we snuggled, and giggled, and told stories.  It was the perfect ending to a perfect day. 

Sunday dawned and everything was fine.  I got a beautiful Mother's Day card from my little peanut and we chatted through breakfast.  Her dad only took a short nap that morning and was awake by eleven.  He figured he'd sleep more later on since he had to stay awake and watch Punky all day today while I worked.  He headed up to see him mom for Mother's Day and gave me the best present of all: he took Punky with him.  I had about two hours of free time.  Me time.  To relax and do whatever I wanted to do without anyone interrupting me for milk in a big girl cup, a pickle, to play play-doh, or whatever other thing Punky desperately needs every other minute.  Me time is a rarity; I've learned to take it when I can get it. 

By the time they came home, the silence in the house was verging on disturbing and I had run out of things to do.  Sad, isn't it?  Of course, I couldn't let her dad think I was bored so I continued to putter around while he fixed her lunch.  I had to step back into my mommy role when her gave her spaghetti while she was wearing a white shirt and new, light purple pants.  He took her pants off, secured a bib, and stuck around long enough to clean her up when she finished.  As he headed back to bed, I returned to duty and decided to start with a much needed diaper change. 

When I picked her up, her bare legs felt warm.  I could feel the heat from her stomach against my side as I carried her into her room.  I touched my cheek to her head and let out a little scream.  She was on fire!  Absolutely burning up!  I put her on the changing table a grabbed a thermometer.  Just over 102.  She never had a fever that high before.  And, of course, she just finished the last dose of antibiotics from her last ear infection only twenty four hours earlier.  I swear, it's like we have a black cloud lingering over this house. 

Other than the fever, she seemed fine.  She was playing, eating, and drinking.  She wasn't cranky or whiny.  I kept asking her if anything hurt and she repeatedly told me no.  So, we spent the rest of the day alternating motrin and tylenol to keep the fever under control and watching cartoons on TV.  She took every opportunity she had to run around, but I kept insisting she sit and relax.  It was rough for her.  She normally doesn't sit for more than thirty seconds at a time. 

I took her into bed with me again last night, and her fever finally seemed to break around eleven.  She was sweating like crazy and her pillow was soaked.  I woke up every hour or so to check her throughout the night.  Needless to say, I was exhausted today.  When I took her temperature before I left for work, it was over 103.  Her dad resumed the motrin/tylenol cycle which continued all day.  Before bed tonight, she was still 102.  I'm expecting another rough night with no sleep, and a phone call to the doc in the morning.  My poor little girl.  It's been one thing after another for months.  She just can't catch a break.  None of us can.