So the girls got croup this week. Croup? I don't even know how to spell that garbage. And garbage it is. The "bark" cough, raging fever, runny nose. Annabelle came down with the disease first. She did the typical sick thing - sad, crying, miserable. It was the saddest thing in the world. I had her doped up on both ibuprofen and Tylenol just to keep her temperature barely acceptable. We took her to the pediatrician and they gave her some steroids to open up her wind pipe. Lou got it second. When her high temperature showed up, I geared up for a feverish, sad baby. I geared up for the misery of no sleep and an achy baby. I was ready for the misery. Instead?
So Lou's crazy. It's just how it is. She's full of energy. Full of laughter. Full of mischief. She lies. She throws fits. And she loves with every ounce of her little being. And get this. Lou with croup is TEN TIMES WORSE....SO MUCH WORSE.
She's bouncing off the freaking walls. Like LITERALLY. She's jibbering at ten million miles per hour. She asks, "Why?' after every little thing we do. Why? Why? But why? She's running around, usually unclothed. Rolling her eyes. Talking back. Stealing stuff and giggling about it. Devouring food. Stealing food from others' plates. Singing every song in her repertoire, loudly. She's telling fairy tales, one after another. Talk talk talk. And all of this with a "bark" cough and a mild fever (even medicated).
Sometimes I go to bed without a single ounce of energy left. Not even a bit left in my tiniest toes. And that's because Lou.