Yesterday evening Addison had a touch of a fever.  It came out of nowhere and she was acting fine. I think  it could have been the result of an afternoon of running around in the sun, watering her herb garden and stomping around in her kiddie pool.  I gave her some Tylenol and sent her to bed thinking I might need to stay armed with the Tylenol in case her temperature rose again and she woke up during the night.

She didn’t.  But I did.  At 2:30, this baby growing inside of me starting kicking hard enough to startle me out of sleep.  It’s been happening more and more over the past few weeks and I’m truly worried about this girl’s internal clock and how long it will take me to reset it once she joins us in August.  Admittedly, I am a light sleeper but I rarely had this problem when I was pregnant with Addie.  I simply can’t sleep with someone kicking the small of my back – whether from the inside or the outside.

The baby wasn’t settling down anytime soon and laying there in bed not being able to fall asleep was torture.  I told myself I needed to check on Addison to make sure her fever hadn’t returned.  She had, afterall, just whimpered over the monitor.  A sure sign that she’d be up wailing any minute.  But really, I just needed a change of atmosphere.  I grabbed the Tylenol, slipped out of the bedroom and tip-toed upstairs careful not to wake Oliver.  If he knew I’d left the room he’d thump up the stairs, break down Addie’s door and whip his tail against the side of the bed until everyone in the room acknowledged his presence. 

Addie woke up when she heard the click of her door and she turned her nightlight on.  She saw it was me in her room and scooted over in the bed, patting the pillow next to her.  She said, “Oh, hi Mommy.  Lay down right here.” She gave me a kiss on the cheek when I climbed into the bed next to her.  I never greet her that sweetly when she wakes me up at 3:00 AM.  I could learn a lesson or two.