It started with Tillie last Wednesday. She went to bed with a low grade fever and woke up a fiery 103 degrees Thursday (i.e. Halloween) morning. I scheduled a doctor's appointment for her that afternoon and received a phone call from Catcher's school at 9:15 telling me he had just thrown up in class. I called the doctor's office back and added one more to my order. By 5:00 that evening, Tillie was tired and groggy yet Catcher had been miraculously cured in time for trick-or-treating. Tillie did rally, however, once she clued into the whole knocking on strangers' doors and getting candy thing--for a few houses, at least, until she retired to the stroller in a daze of WTF is going on here?
That left Scout. She powered through the weekend, and just when I thought she would evade the cold cycle this time around, it came down hard. She napped on Alex's lap for two--or maybe three--hours on Sunday, and she's been clogged and congested, hacking and wheezing ever since. Last night she went to bed at 5:30, and this afternoon she napped for two hours before waking up for dinner then heading right back to bed after filling her belly with macaroni and cheese. She's a fighter, though, and still has enough spunk in her to knock Catcher around and then play the "I'm sick so I should get to watch a TV show" card.