Today was a better day at Camp Sick. I changed my pants, so that’s improvement right there. I still have yet to wear a bra. That’s for tomorrow. Baby steps.

And I’m not even the sick one! (Yet).

Madelyn woke up with a teeeeeny fever, so she got to enjoy some “grape juice” WINK WINK (read: purple Advil) which she inhaled out of the syringe. And then I gave her water, half expecting her to give me the hairy eyeball like she did yesterday when I tried to fluid-ify her. Instead, Madelyn gulped that H20 down and even signed “more” for a second cup. She must’ve woken up extremely thirsty from her liquid strike.

She was in good spirits, so that was another noteworthy improvement. She played and talked to her dolls and made piles with my Tupperware, so her regular activities had resumed. She wasn’t into food, though, and still refused delicious offerings like Jell-O and blueberries and popsicles! One day she will beg to have this breakfast of champions and I will deny her and tell her she should have taken advantage of the sick day diet when she could. Karma’s a bitch, y’all.

My homework for the day was to get Madelyn to pee into a bag. My mom brought over new bags from the doctor’s office and we sealed it to her bits before her nap.

When she woke up three hours later (my girl’s still got it!), I opened her diaper to find a pristine and sparkling cider-like bag of liquid gold also known as pee. The doctor had been wanting to test her urine for a UTI, but since she was so dehydrated she wasn’t making any! This was a good sign that not only am I a cooperative parent who can follow doctor’s orders, but that Madelyn was less dehydrated.

I got us dressed in semi-real clothes (yes, us) and we drove to the doctor’s office. I kept her pee in my CR-V cup holder because that’s how I roll. I prayed to the traffic gods that I could get there in a timely fashion because otherwise the sample would no longer be good enough for urinalysis. The entire process reminded me of a scene from one of my favorite movies, Forget Paris, where Billy Crystal has to get his man-seed to the fertility clinic asap. L.A. traffic happens and typical Billy comedy ensues. Good flick. Go watch it after you finish reading this. And Debra Winger with a bird stuck to her head? Doesn’t get any more ironic than that.

We got home from dropping off her pee (which will be sent out and tested. Hold your breath for results. I’m sure they’ll be worth passing out over) and Madelyn had dinner. By “dinner,” I mean, Trader Joe’s canned pears and TJ’s wannabe Triscuits. I know. Mother of the Year. But that’s all she would eat and the pears are great for fluid! She got cranky at her usual bed time so we did a bath to freshen her up and she’s probably never been cuter in the bath. The cranky-crank-o version went away and she was like “la la la la la! I’m in the bath! I love life! Idon’tevencarethatIhavesnotonmyforehead! Wheeee!” She did cute stuff and I caught it on video. Want to see? Good.

We brushed up. Read a bed time story. And went to sleep!

I’d definitely say that things are looking up in this house. She only had two fevers today that were quickly remedied with a dose of Advil, but I’m looking for 24 hours fever-free. Tomorrow is the day. I know it.

Either way, I love that my girl is back to smiles.