Yesterday Berlin was in the middle of yet another fever. She had fallen asleep on the couch and so Steve carried her upstairs and put her to bed. When she woke up she was really warm, like 103.7 warm. Steve gave her some medicine and I got a cold wash cloth to put on her forehead to try to bringing her fever down a little.
Steve left and I laid down next to Berlin and put the cloth on her face. She peeked open her eyes to see what I was doing. Suddenly her eyes filled with tears. I ask her what’s wrong. Nothing. I ask her again. She said I don’t know. It was like a game of Twenty Questions only I am sure we went well beyond twenty. Something was clearly wrong and she either did not know what it was or did not want to tell me.
Finally I asked if she was worried. Yes, she said. Really? Yes. Okay, well, what are you worried about? I don’t know.
We began to repeat Twenty Questions.
Then I remembered. Last week I rearranged the living room. More like spring cleaned and rearranged the living room, which took most of one whole day. Part of that time I had Little Women playing on the TV for background noise. Well, Beth, one of the sisters, gets scarlet fever and then later dies from it. All they show is her lying fevered in bed, and being cooled with a wash cloth to her forehead.
Oh. Oh my.
Sweetie, are you afraid you are going to die? With tears still falling and ragged scared breaths Berli nodded yes. Like she did in the movie last week? Another nod.
My dear sweet sensitive girl.
Not if I can help it. And definitely not today from this fever. I promise, promise.
Today, still tired with her fever, I tried to convince Berli it would be a good idea to take a nap. This is like trying to tell a cat that it would be fun to take a bath. You know how that goes. Berlin is calmer than a cat in her response, but the answer is still the same: Heck no.
I could tell she was tired though. Her fever was 100.2-101.6 all day, which would make anyone tired. Then I finally got it. Berlin is our child who was hard to potty train. The reason being that she was always having way too much fun to even think about going to the bathroom. This resulted in many races to the toilet to see if we could make it in time and ever so many accidents, some while we were just trying to get pants off. Finally, after 5 years, I finally realized why Berlin doesn’t like to nap. Why didn’t I see this before?
I ask, are you worried about missing something fun? She doesn’t even answer. Her whole face just changes and she suddenly lets her real tired show. Her eyes fill up with tears in a way that only I understand because I am her mother and she gets that from me.
If I promise that we will not do anything at all fun will you please take a nap? A slow nod yes.