Wilder's Viral Vacay

Well, we returned from our Colorado vacation yesterday afternoon, and let's just say it didn't quite go as we expected.

It started off well. Wilder was all smiles on the way to the airport. Packing and dealing with the multiple baby-related items at the airport went smoother than expected. Wilder slept nearly the whole plane ride. And, for the first couple of days in Denver, we had a ball, starting off our trip with a stay at Jay, Deb, Colin and Allie's house in Arvada. They gave us a parents' day off on Monday, offering to watch Wilder while we went downtown, ate and drank beer at Wynkoop Brewery with friends, wandered around REI, rented a baby backpack and saw a movie.

As we returned home, we were greeted at the door by Allie, who told us that Wilder had a 100.6-degree fever. I immediately had a sinking feeling, but everyone seemed to think it was probably allergies or teething or something equally harmless.

Let's just cut to the chase. On Tuesday, Wilder worsened. He was running a fever of nearly 102 and was clearly in a lot of discomfort. I called our doctor's office in Dallas who urged us to take him to the emergency room. We got there, waited a couple hours as all manner of weirdos clutching various body parts got in ahead of us. At around 5:00, we were finally admitted to the after-hours pediatric services unit. As the nurse and doctor poked and prodded Wilder, he screamed basically non-stop for the better part of half an hour or more. It sucked donkey balls, to put it mildly. Diagnosis? Viral infection and ear infection in his left ear. Remedy: amoxicillin, Motrin, ear drops and plenty of rest.

More cuttage to the chaseage: On Wednesday, I woke up with the virus firmly lodged in my nose and throat. At this point the vacay took a further dip South when we decided that, since we were Typhoid Family, we'd check into a La Quinta (actually, we tried three hotels prior to La Quinta -- turns out Colorado's a pretty hot vacation spot in late June. Who'da thunk?). I coughed and sniffed and slept and cried and felt sorry for my poor family's crappy trip. Wilder cried and ran at the nose and refused to sleep. And Jerry tried to maintain his typically sunny outlook despite the fact that he was saddled with two snotty, miserable traveling companions. Karen called and insisted that the next day we come to her house, knowing Wilder probably would no longer be contagious (and therefore not put Reagan at risk), and that she could quarantine Jerry and I if need be.

On Thursday, poor Jer woke up with the crud. I felt a ton better and so did Wilder, so Jerry slept the day away at Karen's while we all went to the park and played (man was W. happy to be out doing something fun finally!) and watched the kids get to know each other.

And, finally, on Friday, with Jer feeling better and W. and I feeling almost back to new, we had a GREAT day. We visited my brother at his work and places in Denver we loved when we lived there. We had wimpies with cheese and Spitfire wings at Pints Pub (where the waitress recognized Jerry from his frequent trips there more than five years prior). We drove through our old 'hood and reminisced ("Isn't that the park where you guys rolled the car driving it down those steps?") We drove through Cherry Creek and grinned at how even the most poseurish of Denver neighborhoods can't hold a candle to Dallas. That night, we had dinner with my brother's family, followed by poker until midnight with them and Karen and Eric.

So, overall, it was not the trip we envisioned, but it was salvageable in the end. It turned out to be a trip of firsts for Wilder. First major sickness. First time he called Jerry "da-da" (day after Father's Day -- it was so cool). And Wilder cut his first tooth the second to last day. It just barely broke the skin -- we'll post a pic as soon as it's more noticeable.

We're glad to be home, if not exactly glad to be home from Colorado, if that makes sense. We love it there. Wilder's sleeping the day away blissfully in his own crib, and I'm pretty sure he's happiest of all to be back in his environment. We set him on the floor yesterday to play and watch a Baby Einstein DVD while we cooked dinner, and he rolled around screaming happily for 20 minutes.

One more thing: He's "thisclose" to crawling. I'm pretty sure it'll happen in the next couple of weeks. It seems our boy did a lot of growing up in the last couple weeks. As I'm pretty sure is par for the course when it comes to motherhood, I don't know whether to laugh or cry about that.