I've been tossing and turning since midnight, hotter than asphalt on a southern July, and finally at 2:30 Lex came to our room.
“Close your eyes,” I told Monstro, who has to teach this morning at 7:30.
I located our boy and took him back to bed, picking him up. He was roasting.
“Too hot!” he said. No kidding. I took his temperature and it was 101.7. Then I took mine, and I'm a full degree-and-a-half hotter than I usually run.
So I put the boy in his crib, and put the fan on him, and left his door open, and turned on all the ACs in the house (with the big one set to 70 degrees on Energy Saver), and then picked up my pillows and blanket (wishful thinking that that'll be necessary). But before bedding down on the Futon of Torture, I just had to tell you guys about it.
Remember when we used to be up at 2:30 on Friday night/Saturday morning for FUN reasons?
Yeah… me neither.
UPDATE: No sooner had my head hit my pillow than I heard a cough from Lex's room, followed by a more pronounced “hoark.” Ruh-roh. Went in to see his crib sheet covered in, uh, liquid. Stripped his bed and remade it, put him in the bathtub, washed him well, got him blotted dry, gave him some applesauce and children's ibuprofen and a new clean sippee cup of cold water, put him into clean diaper and jammies and took his temperature again. 103.2 for my troubles. Ugh. Gonna be a looong night.
Wait, it's 3:22. It already *has* been a long night. 🙂