Fever (real and dance varieties)

We had plans to go to visit friends in Virginia for a pool party on Saturday.

And by "plans" I mean we had bags packed --- new beach towels, new bathing suits for the kids, a fresh thing of sunblock [we buy in bulk, as you can imagine if you've see our family] --- and were ready to head out the door. But Jane seemed a bit listless when she got up from her nap and just wasn't interested in doing much beyond being held.

A quick scan with the thermometer revealed she was at 101. Not critical, but certainly not pool-friendly either. [Sidenote: It's nice to have Fahrenheit readings back; at some point last year one of us hit some hidden button and we were only getting Celsius temperatures. Having a child with a fever is stressful enough without also having to do math.]

Anyway, we called and canceled, which Samson took about as well as you'd expect.

After a dose of Children's Motrin and another nap, Jane perked up a bit. Our dinner plans now scuttled, we decided to go grab some ribs at a local barbecue joint. Some things I learned:

1. Samson will not eat ribs with his fingers. He will, however, eat coleslaw with them.
2. My children do not like corn bread. At all.
3. Apparently soul (blue-eyed and otherwise) and R&B make Samson want to dance.

This last point fascinates me because Samson has never been a particularly dancy kind of kid.

Lots of people have home movies of their kids grooving away, completely unaware that they are being surveilled. Sam is more of a head nodder. But for some reason, a succession of songs by James Brown, Aretha Franklin, and Hall & Oates (?!) flipped some inner switch. The last song, in his defense, was "She's Gone," so it's not like he was wiggling around to "Private Eyes" or something.

Anyway --- and I say this often, but I really wish I had video of this --- Samson was just completely oblivious to the fact that we were watching him. We were outside the restaurant at a picnic table, and he just got down. Sort like a combination of David Byrne, Rerun, and Grover. It was magic. He ate almost none of his dinner (except the aforementioned cole slaw), but he was having a blast.

Unfortunately, Jane crashed. We hadn't been out for more than 30 minutes when she just shut down. Her whole body was hot. And not warm-let's-run-a-tepid-bath, but hot. The kind of hot that a laptop gets on the underside. Just before it catches fire.

We quickly decamped for home, where we checked her temperature again and saw she was now running 103.

My first thought was "Oh God, she's got West Nile virus." Vicki's first thought was "She needs more Motrin and probably a cool bath and some rest." We met in the middle with a call to the doctor and spent the night keeping tabs on her.

According to our pediatrician, there is some weird virus going around that causes kids to have this fever spike. It lasts a day or two and is then gone. It's cliche, but I think just about any parent would rather be sick than watch their child in pain.

And while this was a relatively quick episode [she was laid low all day Sunday too], it struck me how blessed we've been that both Sam and Jane have been generally healthy. It's easy to get caught up in the daily craziness (who put this diaper in the washing machine? why are you wearing a snowsuit?), but sitting by Jane's bed and watching her as she slept put things in perspective.

Anyway, I'm not trying to get all afterschool special on you. Jane woke this morning feeling much better. I think she's trying to make up for having taken the weekend off because Samson was bothering her by getting in her face and she hit him square in the nose.

As we were scolding her, I could see the wheels turning in her head as she contemplated pretending to still be sick. Our Jane is back.