Oh, the dreaded.

It would be wonderful if babies could just tell you that they don't feel well. It would save so much time and efford playing the guessing game.

Yesterday, I dropped Reyna off and picked her up from Sara's. She was fine. We headed to my mom's, she laid down. When I got her up, I made her a plate of food, which she wouldn't touch. It was macaroni & cheese. Okay, that should have been my first clue.

We packed up, headed to Jade's soccer game where Reyna wasn't acting herself. She still had not eaten and wasn't in the greatest of moods.

The game ended, we pakced up, said bye to Jade (he's leaving for the weekend) and headed down the road. We weren't two minutes down the road when it happened.

The moment I have been dreading.

Reyna got sick.

I don't mean a sneeze or a cough.

I felt terrible for her. I didn't know what to do. I pulled over as soon as I had the chance. I had nothing with me, except for a few babywipes and Jade's soccer socks. They definitely became multi-purpose socks that night.

So, we got home. Reyna was running a fever. I put her into the bath, cleaned her and put her to bed. My mom (who is a Saint!) came with gatorade (nurse triage line suggested it) and helped me clean her carseat.

She hasn't been sick (thank God) again and was acting a little better this morning. Her fever is low-grade and she went back to bed this morning.

I felt so bad for her. Hopefully, she will be her spunky old-self later on.