Friday Night Fever

Peanut was sniffly all day Friday. An icky cold has been circling amongst his toddler posse and a free-for-all toy pass-along during our Wednesday workout meant peanut had his share of exposure to it.

I'm a seasoned enough parent at this point that a little sniffle doesn't have me panicked, but the kicker was we actually had a babysitter set to come for the first time since February for an impromptu date night (I know, I know. We need to get out more. But with no family nearby to sit for free or at the last minute...well, you all know. It sometimes slips your mind that you need to schedule parent time outs). Needless to say, I spent the remainder of the day analyzing his symptoms from moment to moment.

Well, until he went down for his nap, the hubby came home from work early and I headed to the salon for a much needed trim and blow out.

After I returned, ironed the evening's outfit, spot cleaned the house for the sitter and wiped up some more snot, I thought I might have noticed a warm forehead on the peanut. Sniffles I can ignore, but a fever. Not so much.

The hubby kept trying to reassure me he didn't think peanut felt hot at all. Trusting my instincts, I whipped out the thermometer for a quick check. Sure enough, we were around 100. The one time I didn't want to be right. Do we go out leaving a sick child in the care of another? Do we stay home for only a minor ailment? Does leaving mean I don't care about my kid's health and comfort? Does staying make me a paranoid mother?

So, we took a deep breath, dosed the kid with Motrin, passive-aggressively told the sitter if she didn't want to stay we'd understand and left quickly after she said she was fine with it. By the time I was halfway through my mojito and our third tapas dish, the guilt had taken a backseat. By the time we were at the movie and the peanut would have been well in bed back at the house and the cell hadn't wrong, I was feeling pretty good.

And of course peanut was fine. Fine enough that we actually haven't seen a trace of fever since then. It's a good thing, too, since we had tickets to the game on Saturday afternoon!

The moral of the story - sometimes you just have to put yourself and your marriage first regardless of the speed bumps. Sure - leaving a possibly sick child in the care of another is a gamble - but how many of us complained of tummy aches, were sent to school by our parents anyway only to be picked up a few hours later after we puked all over the first grade reading corner?

At least I got a mojito, Harrison Ford and a quiet night with the hubby out of the deal. Just what the doctor ordered.