Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Why its best not to call the pediatrician on four hours of sleep

Yeah, so the morning routine usually goes something like this: Mr. L wakes up at 6:30 to get ready for work. I am dead to the world.
Mr. L. eats breakfast, gets dressed, and heads downstairs to kill time before leaving at 7:30. I am still dead to the world.
Mr. L. hears Buttercup stirring on the baby monitor (which is otherwise worthless) and comes upstairs to scoop her up, change her diaper, and bring her to bed with me with a prepared bottle. I am, at this point, wishing I was still dead to the world.
Thankfully, Buttercup usually melts into my arms for an early morning nap as Mr. L. leaves for his day. And by the time he pulls out of the driveway, both Buttercup and I are cuddled up and again, dead to the world, until about 10:30 a.m.

But this morning went something like this: Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah...and then I am wishing I was still dead to the world. Only when Mr. L. brings Buttercup to me with a prepared bottle, he also brings in the thermometer.
"She's fine now," I say groggily as I kiss her neck to feel her body temperature.
"I just wanna double check," he replies, as he inserts the tip into her ear before telling me that Buttercup is still sitting at 100.
So I call the pediaitrician right when they open at 8 a.m. to see what they want me to do. Of course, they say to bring her in at 9:30. That is an hour from now.
I knew I should have let myself sink into my dreams with the baby in my arms before calling! I just knew it!

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