M i still feverish, though her doctor is unworried. Or, I should say, her doctor's office's new 12-year-old PA is not worried. M's in great spirits (well, except for her epic tantrums, but those are quickly becoming par for the course, and are a whole 'nother post), just really, really hot. She also isn't sleeping more than 1.5 hours at a time, so the Boy and I are zombies.
In other, fabulous news, someone I love a lot is pregnant after three frustrating years of trying. I'm so excited for her. In fact, I think I may be more excited for her baby than I am for mine (yes, still pregnant here. Also still hugely paranoid, so I don't want to talk about it a lot).
The downside to this miracle pregnancy is that we were set to fly out to California today to see said mom-to-be and her family. Unfortunately, with M having a fever of unknown origin, we thought it would be safest for all interested fetuses (feti?) if we cancelled the trip. I hadn't realized just how much I was looking forward to escaping our routine until it turned out we'll be stuck in it after all. Last night, I dealt with the disappointment with my customary grace and charm -- I cried, swore a lot, and went to bed early. Today, I much more reasonably cancelled the plane reservations and am relishing the thought that I am not currently on an airplane with a feverish, sleep-deprived child. I suspect that if they only knew, the 200 or so people who would have been our fellow passengers would be similarly grateful.