Poor little Sproglette sprung a fever on Friday night. It wasn’t a massive fever, she was a little warmer than usual, but I gave her Neurofen and toddled her off to bed.
She has been known to have mysterious fevers – and I am alwas over-cautious enough to pay a doctor $80 so they can tell me to keep giving her Neurofen. (I HATE Darwin and its dearth of bulk billing doctors).
Poor little Sproglette wasn’t herself all weekend. The mind was willing but the body was… not. Her little wounded puppy noise featured throughout as she watched DVDs and attempted to play, and crescendoed into a crying session every time I did so much as ask her a question.
As a result, I’m exhausted. But deep down, I’m almost a bit happy. You see, normally the Sproglette is a very outgoing, extroverted little being. She’s destined for a life in the theatre, as a stand up comedienne, or someone who gives their superiors some excellent backchat.
And this impeccable timing is evidenced best by the fact that she only ever gets sick when Mr Moi goes away. Now, he’s not away all that often, but when she gets sick, the stars align, and one of those stars is the ‘Mr Moi travelling star’ (bastard star). As a result, I am the only one who has taken time off work with the sick Sprog, I do the doctor/pharmacy runs, I have the broken sleep… And I have been known to get a babysitter for a couple of hours so I could get urgent work done (Shame! But taking a week of work with a sick child puts a lot of pressure on your working life, especially when you’re very far removed from a support network).
So, I am absolutely overjoyed to have had Mr Moi around to help all weekend. In fact, I woke up this morning to find him not in bed with me, but on a blow up mattress next to the Sprog’s bed. What an industrious man! He even found a doona and sheets.
However, in this new star alignment of sick Sprog-Mr Moi at home, there seems to be an extra bastard star – the ‘Little Miss Moi Sick’ star. I can’t smell anything, my head is filled with cotton wool, I am incessantly sneezing, and I have about 10 hankies tucked down my bra because my nose is dripping more than my eyes when I watched The Notebook.
Ah the weekend.
(And if the Sprog is sick today, I will definitely be getting the $80 recommendation for Neurofen, just to ease my mind!)