Poor Little Punkin'

I got a call today during my third period class saying that Will was running a 103.2 degree fever. I had an hour to go before the kids left (they were taking semester exams), so I called my dad. He came into my classroom to get the keys to my car so that he could get the car seat and pick Will up from daycare, but then he asked, "Would you rather handle this yourself?" Of course I would. So Dad kindly watched my third period (there are advantages to teaching at the same school) while I went and picked up my little man.

Will was exhibiting no signs of illness except lethargy and a reduced appetite (and that usual spark in his eyes was dulled). We came home, he fell asleep on me, and his temperature seemed to drop pretty dramatically. He was wearing a polarfleece top over his pirate onesie, so I couldn't take his temperature without disturbing him. Fortunately, he woke up, drank 8 oz. of formula (from a sippy cup, of course. Even when he's sick, he's a big boy), and kind of chilled out, resting his head on me. It's obvious his head doesn't feel good. He cried while I tried to change his diaper because I took off his 1/2 zip polarfleece top. He didn't want his head messed with. I don't blame him, poor boy. That's the last thing I want when I'm sick like that. I took his temp, and it had dropped to 100.2. He's asleep again, so we're going to wait this out. I haven't given him any acetaminophen or ibuprofen, and his temp is dropping, so I think he'll be okay. We'll watch it, of course, and if it skyrockets again, we'll take him in. For now, though, he needs rest and fluids more than anything.

My hope against hope is that this is teething-related. He is cutting at least 2 more teeth at the moment. I know that's probably not the case, since his temp was so high (they add a degree at the daycare, though), but one can hope.