Dear Sick Toddler,

Oh my poor little girl. I know you aren't feeling well. You've been a trooper through the flu the last few days, but now a fever has taken over and I am not quite sure what to do with you. You are cranky, mean, and disagreeable. I am trying my best here, please understand. Also, please know that screaming "I DON'T LIKE YOU! I WANT MY DAD! I WANT TO GO TO GRANDMAS HOUSE!" over and over again doesn't help.

Last night you really didn't like me. In fact, you didn't want me in the same room with you. Your father took much joy in being your hero, and encouraged your tirade. We found out that you like daddy, Allison, Grandpa Ken, Devin and Beans. Just not mom. What? You like Grandma's dog more than your own mother!? Daddy even asked you if you wanted to find a new mommy, and not only did you say yes, you went outside to look for her! BY YOURSELF! IN THE DARK!

We also need to discuss the timing of your urgent needs. When you finally decide that there is a task that mommy could preform for you, you will only voice your demands at the precise moment I begin to nurse your sister. AND IT MUST BE DONE NOW! Or tears and fits and screaming will rain down upon me. Again. Yes, I know that this could be a sign of insecurity from having a new sister in the house, but honestly, I think you are just ticked off that I wont let you hold and touch Allison. Sweetheart, you are sick. Allison is not. I didn't invent the theory of germs to punish you. And although I find it endearing when you wipe your mouth off with the back of your hand in an attempt to kiss your sister, it just doesn't cut it.

So, honey, please have a popcicle. I'll wrap you up in a quilt, sing you a song and read you a book. I'll kiss your fevered brow as we watch your favorite movie, and rock you to sleep. That's how being sick is supposed to work at this age. Because, just so you know, you aren't supposed to hate me for another 10 years.

I still love you,
Mommy