So, Andrew and I learned last night that we are not exactly well matched in a panic situation. You might want to consider this before you have an emergency with both of us around. I use the term “panic” loosely, as everything turned out just fine.
At midnight last night, Baby Girl woke up screaming and saying, ” I hurt!” Very weird. If you’ve met our child, you’ll know that I just assumed she had her head stuck in the bars of her bed, had put a tiny ponytail holder on her wrist until her hand swelled to gigantic proportions, or had climbed up on a tall dresser and gotten stuck. Something like that. Andrew went in to check on her as soon as she started crying, and came out telling me to get up and get in the car (I think that’s what he said–I’d only been asleep about an hour and my brain was mush). She was burning up, shaking, shivering, and starting to get glassy-eyed. She was definitely still responsive, just miserable. So I stumbled into the bathroom and located FOUR thermometers, but not the specific one I wanted (sidebar: why in the world do we have so many thermometers, and why are they all the crappy/cheap ones?). She was crying as we took her temperature (the not-fun way), but still wailed “Thaaaank you temp-tur, Mommy!” This is the child who cries like her heart is breaking but thanks us for brushing her tangled hair, putting her in time-out, serving her the breakfast she doesn’t want, etc. It’s pretty hilarious.
Here’s where the mismatched parenting comes in–I think Andrew would agree that he was pretty much panicking. I mean, it was scary. However, if one parent is panicking, don’t you think it would be important for the other adult who is present to be a calm, reassuring force until the crisis passes? I’m calm and reassuring, right? Nope. I heard panic in his voice, and my brain just screeched, Oh! He sort of looks like he’s freaking out! That’s not like him. Huh. Let’s freak out! It’s freak-out time! Wheee!
The temperature read 103.5 long before it beeped, so we tossed everyone in the car and headed to the ER. She didn’t really make a sound all the way there but was looking around. We were seen IMMEDIATELY, so I guess she looked pretty pathetic. She wailed/thanked the nurse for taking taking her temperature (again, the not-fun way), and her temperature there was measuring closer to 102. Maybe my thermometer was off, maybe the fever came down on its own on the way there–who knows. I do know that her normal body temperature (like mine) is quite a bit below 98.6, so even a “mild fever” is going to make her feel just terrible.
So, after getting some some technologically advanced meds Motrin into her system, she got much better very quickly. Around 1, we headed home with a chattering girl in the backseat. She assured us that she would indeed make it by shouting out the colors at every light change between the hospital and home. She also sensed our parental vulnerability and requested a dinosaur movie (she did not get lucky on that one).
Here’s your lesson:
When you schedule your next emergency, feel free to include either me or Andrew, but not both. We’re likely to clunk our panicking heads together and need to ride in the ambulance right beside you. You’re welcome.




