Our week has been pretty low-key, thanks to a fever virus that Ali contracted quite suddenly at 2am Monday morning.
Although, if a kid’s gonna get sick, I prefer the fever virus over all other ailments, because,
a) parents/other adults seem to be completely immune to it,
b) there are no other awful side effects (like, say, puke) to deal with, and
c) fevers just make kids less energetic and snuggly, which can be mistaken (or purposefully misconstrued) as extra-loving-toward-their-Mommies.
So we hung out at home all day Monday and Tuesday, with my only escape being a pre-planned girl’s night Monday night, which meant that Ali got the benefit of alone time with Daddy, and the “uniquities” that come with that arrangement.
Since Ali had been pretty bummed that she’d had to miss Gymnastics AND Bible Study so as to not spread her fevery goodness (She asked me most pitifully, “But where is a place that I can go???”), Daddy decided to take her to dinner.
And so, they had dinner (yes, DINNER) at Yogurt Mountain:
…which apparently goes a long way to cheer up an otherwise homebound kid.
…until their fever chills kick in, and they can’t eat the rest of their frozen dinner.
And so, they headed home, and after her warm bath just made her colder, Chris decided to do to her what he does to himself when he has a fever, and dressed her from fingertip to toe, with the help of mittens:
And since this worked so well in warming her up AND cheering her up, he put her to bed like that, mittens and all.
And, although I gave him that incredulous “you-put-our-child-to-bed-in-MITTENS?!?!” look when I got home, she didn’t wake up feverish at all that night. And when I got her out of the bed the next morning, she was still quite happily and completely mittened.
Sometimes, Daddy ingenuity pays off.
Luckily (or maybe due to the mittening), her fever left on Tuesday, so we were finally able to leave our quarantine this morning.
And I was quite relieved, because we’d had plans to relive what is currently reigning as Ali’s first memory: Pumpkin Picking.
We went two years ago when Ali was only 20 months old, and she quite surprisingly remembers that trip, and her haul of a white pumpkin, very clearly:
She remembers the event so well, in fact, that she holds quite a bit of bitterness towards me about it – every now and then, she’ll pull out her Feminine Book of Blame and accusatorily ask me, “So what did you DO with my White Pumpkin?!?!?!”
…And so I tell her about the Hoarders episode I saw about that… that lady’s three-year-old pumpkin was not a pretty sight when they unearthed it under a couple dead cats and twenty-five pounds of old newspapers.
But at any rate, I was very glad that she was well in time for our trip so that I could redeem my reputation and let her get a new pumpkin.
And, sure enough, after a hayride with her cousins Eli and Tessa,
(Which offered a spectacular view that was totally worth the entire trip, by the way,)
and a very dedicated and determined search,
she managed to find the one and only white pumpkin left in the field,
….but only if I’d let her go to bed with mittens on, too.