Dear Scarlett,
You are sick. And I'm not talking about the fact that you like to put your mouth on the bathroom floor, although that is totally gross. No, you are actually sick: a double ear infection that brought on your first fever and some other, Exorcist-like symptoms. We were in Lake Tahoe this weekend--your first trip there--when the trouble started. You were stuffy and wouldn't sleep. By the time we headed home Sunday, things had taken a turn for the worst. You've slept with me for a few nights now, and this morning, you spent hours in Aunt Lizzie's arms, the only place you would sleep.
I feel a little bit bad about saying this, but I love how snuggly you are when you're sick. I hate the fact that you can't sleep, hate hearing your sad little cough, and hate thinking about you in pain. But once you have taken your medicine and your fever comes down, you snuggle into my arms and it's just the sweetest thing. Normally if I try to snuggle you, you will endure it for a minute before swatting me in the face, contorting your body in order to chew on my ponytail and then launching yourself at the floor to chase the cats. So forgive me for finding things to enjoy about the past few days.
Feel better soon,
Mom
