In the middle of the night...

...I go walkin' in my sleep (sung to the tune of of Billy Joel's "River of Dreams", though not really singing, more like dragging).

...

It's been a long time since Levi has woken up in the middle of the night. He usually doesn't, or if he does it's for a 2-minute (or so) whine fest and then he's back to sleep.

This week, though, he caught the Hand, Foot, and Mouth virus. How, when, and where I have no clue.

It started Sunday night with a wake in the middle of the night, sweats, and small chills. I wasn't sure what to make of it, so I soothed him, gave him water, and put him back to bed.

The fever continued to rise with each day and Monday night we took him to the doctor.

We are all shocked that he has made it 20 months without getting sick (well, this kind of sick). He caught the flu bug over the winter like the rest of us, too. But this is a true-toddler kind of sick.

We have been lucky.

He fairs things well, Levi. He is a good sport even when given ibuprofen and taking his temperature, though he does get a little scared. And I think he has a pretty good immune system.

This is one week where I am SO thankful for Isaac and I's schedules the way they are. While I'm usually griping and moaning about how we're mostly catching eachother in passing on the way out the door, this time I'm glad for how our lives are arranged.

Isaac is on his 5-day-in-a-row off stint (I know, right?! Rude.) so he has been able to be home with Levi all week.

Hand, Foot, and Mouth is a weird little monster. It starts with fevers, chills, sweats, etc., just like he had it, and then moves into blisters in the mouth causing a sore throat and potential blisters on the feet, hands, and butt. We haven't seen any of those.

When your child is sick you feel helpless. "Why aren't they eating? Why do they keep wanting to be held? Why are they crying for you at 3 in the morning?" Etc.

One of the reasons I picked Crestwood Pediatrics is because they are open in the evening. And thankfully, we were able to get him seen Monday night and the diagnosis was made.

Through all of this I realized something about myself: I despise the middle of the night.

Ok. I like it when I'm on a road trip or staying up to watch a movie, or when I'm at the beach with my sisters and brother-in-laws and we're playing Pictionary and dying of laughter until 3 in the morning. But other than that, I am not a big fan of it.

One of my biggest struggles with the newborn phase was the "nights." As we all know, babies don't develop sleeping patterns until about 3 months or so and even then, it's an uphill battle with night feedings and oddball wakeups for no reason at all. It's hard.

It's lonely and stressful too. Getting up in the night with a baby (or a toddler) by yourself is scary. I'll say it. I said it. It gets me on edge. Especially when there's something wrong and I don't know what it is! And let's face it, I'm "mom" not "supermom." I get tired and groggy and I like my sleep.

But take Isaac for example. Does he need a lot of sleep to run on? That I am not convinced. His fuel is, well, I don't know what his fuel is.  Feelings of responsibility? Coffee?

Let's just say that he is much better at waking up in the middle of the night for things than I am.

So, we've gone back to good ol' memory lane on infant street this week. All those feelings of 2AM cries and calls for help have made their appearance again in my cute little almost two-year-old. And while it's always hard rolling out of bed in the wee hours I do seem to take one look at his little face and fall in love all over again. And all those feelings rush away.