Unwanted Excitement on Wedding Day
My daughter’s sister in law got married on Saturday, and I had promised that hubby and I would take care of the little ones so everyone could enjoy themselves at the wedding. There were a few hours between the ceremony and the reception, so the plan was to either drive the babies around for an hour so they would nap in the car, or to take them home for naps in their beds.
When we got to the wedding, we found the babes in their wagon, all dressed to the nines. Gavin was laying down and Quinn was sitting up and not looking very happy. I dismissed his grumpiness to lack of nap, as the wedding was taking place during nap time.
Quinn didn’t want to walk down the path or take the rings to Becki and Jeff. Oma carried him down the path then passed him to me.
I held him and immediately got concerned. He was whimpering. I have never heard Mr. Q whimper like that and he was very still and warm.
As soon as the ceremony was over, we put the boys back in the wagon and pulled them toward the greeting line. He wanted MommyDaddy and he was just so unhappy. Momma came to the rescue and whisked him up and immediately I saw the concern on her face. She said she thought he might be weak from not eating lunch and sent her hubby to the car to get the cooler she had packed with food and snacks for the boys.
He didn’t want anything. We offered all his favorites. He wouldn’t eat. Not dadoos (goldfish crackers) not boobies (blueberries) not Ernie apple juice, nothing. Michael and I hadn’t really decided if we were going to drive back to Waukesha but we were starving so we stopped at a Subway to get lunch for him and I and a ham and cheese sandwich for Quinn.
Both babies were out like a light when Michael came back to the car so we decided to take them home for naps. When we got there, I started taking the tux off of Q because it was just too much to nap in. He was so warm. And grandma got scared. I grabbed the thermometer and took his temperature. It was 99.1. He was not himself at all, just weak and wanting to go to bed. 2 year olds generally don’t ask to go to bed, but he did and hubby and I were a bit alarmed.
Michael took him upstairs while I gave Gavin a bottle and got him into his crib. I had texted Nikki to tell her that I just didn’t think Mr. Quinn was going to be able to come back to the reception. She asked me to take his temperature again and it was 100.1. She told me if he wasn’t better when he woke up from his nap, that we were to stay home.
Earlier in the day, Nik had called me to tell me something was wrong, but quickly hung up and said she’d text me. While she was at the hairdresser, Quinn got his finger smashed in the sliding door. Aye carumba. She asked me to meet them at Urgent Care so Nick could take Gavin (who of course was poopy and they had no diapers along) home and start getting ready for the wedding. When I walked in the door of the treatment room, tears welled in his eyes and spilled and he cried “Meemaw, owie”. Cue heartbreak.
Till Nikki, Quinn and I left Urgent care it was 11 am and the wedding was across town at 1:30. The good news was that his finger didn’t need stitches. The bad thing was this was just the beginning of Quinn’s bad day.
Once we realized his temperature was climbing, we gave him some Advil. It took some coaxing, but PopPop managed to get him to take it, and he told Q that it would help his finger feel better too.
So he slept for a while, and at 4:45 I went to wake him up. I brought him downstairs and tried to get some juice into him, and that woke up his appetite and he asked for ham. Michael tore up his ham and cheese into little pieces and Quinn ate them.
He seemed much better than he did when we put him down for his nap, so I texted Nik and told her that we would be heading back to the reception shortly. She asked that we bring Quinn’s tuxedo back to the reception, I think she was hoping, that everyone was hoping that he would be well enough for some wedding photos. He was the ring bearer in his Auntie Becki's wedding.
The Advil had kicked in while he was napping but was wearing off by the time we returned to the reception. He didn’t want to eat, he didn’t want to drink, he just wanted held. And there were many hearts just aching for the little guy because it was apparent how bad he felt.
After dinner, we gathered up their things, and Mommy and Daddy walked us to the car, each one carrying a babe. Our truck was parked right behind their SUV and Quinn was crying that he wanted to go in MommyDaddy beep beep. Nick reassured him that they would be home soon, and strapped him into his seat.
Gavin was perfect. No problems at all during the service or the 3 hours in between. He had catnapped in the car and did not nap at all the rest of the afternoon, but he was so pleasant and happy. Gavin did get to visit with Becki’s guests for a little while, before Michael and I and Nik and Nick realized that it was time to take the babies home now.
We stopped for children’s Tylenol and some binkies for the baby, because the ONE binky got lost somehow in all the chaos. When we arrived back at their house, our mission was to get some Tylenol into Quinn to bring his fever down. Just as soon as Michael put the little cup to Mr. Q’s lips, projectile vomiting happened. Sigh..
I was a wreck by now and Michael was doing his best to keep me calm and he was such a big help. He even laid down on the floor next to Quinn’s toddler bed, singing to him until he fell asleep.
Once hubby came back downstairs, we were both glued to our phones watching Quinn on the cam viewer. He seemed to be sleeping well and then all of a sudden he sat up. We both went to him and he was just burning with fever and I called Nikki and told her it was time to come home.
When she arrived, his temp had climbed to 103. Momma jumped into action and called Urgent Care and told them she wasn’t sure what to do, that his fever was so high. The doctor on call called her back and told her that we didn’t need to bring him to emergency unless the medicine didn’t bring his temperature down, or if his fever went above 106. ONE OH SIX? are you freaking kidding me?
Nick (daddy) arrived home soon after and at the time he came in we had gotten Q to eat an ice pop. I told Nikki that was such a good idea she had, it would help cool him from the inside out. By now he was acting a bit delirious, wondering why we wouldn’t open the curtains for him so he could see the sun. We showed him that it was night outside but he was certain it was day.
In the good hands of their parents, hubby and I left and got home at about 9:30. We decompressed, talked about the days events, extolled praise on each other for doing so well in a crisis. We just sat and watched tv and cruised on the internet. At 11:30, someone started banging on our front door. I was totally freaked out and told hubby to NOT answer the door.
Do you think he listened to me? No.. he did not. He flipped on the foyer light and started peering out the windows of the door. You can’t see much because they are that fancy glass that makes everything look wonky when you look through it. He opened the door. No one was there. I was shaking. I asked him to please call the police... and he said he didn’t think he would, that whoever was there was obviously gone now. I told him I needed a Xanax and sleep and went to bed.
Then I heard him make the call. The police assured us that they would send a cruiser to patrol our neighborhood. We live in the middle of nowhere, in a nice subdivision near a golf course. Quiet but isolated. I was afraid. My emotions were already raw from seeing my poor little grandson feeling so crappy all day, and I just needed to sleep. Michael locked the bedroom door when he came to bed.
Nikki had updated us and let us know that by morning his temperature was down and he was acting a bit more like himself. During the night, he had woken up and his temp was 104 and she got some medicine into him and brought him to bed with her.
Thank goodness he was better yesterday. When they are little, it is so hard when they are sick. My precious little bubba had such a rough day on Saturday. I am happy to report that he is much better today.
Tomorrow is his birthday. He’ll be two.
I can’t wait to see him and pull him into my arms and sniff his sweet head and tell him how much I love him.
What a weekend. How was yours?