April was poised to get off to a good start: the four-day Easter weekend started at the end of March and featured Easter bonnets, a trip to a museum, a swimming lesson, and plenty of hanging-out time with Mommy and Daddy. April 1 was Easter Monday, and though it was chilly, we had every reason to believe it would be a good day too.
But no. The young man had woken up coughing, and as the day progressed, he got more and more lethargic and cough-y. Mid-afternoon he felt feverish; our cheap drugstore thermometer told us he had a temperature of 105.6 F, or 40.9 C. Too high to be correct, right? So we did it again but got the same result. Uhoh. Within minutes we were in the car and racing toward the hospital. (Our second trip to the ER in a month!) The emergency room was packed, and we were understandably nervous. Eventually we got seen by a variety of helpful doctors and nurses. Long story short, he had some sort of virus; he was lethargic and his vitals (temp and heart rate) were not good but slowly improved in the many hours we spent there; by about 9:30pm, some six hours after arriving, he suddenly got all better. As we wrote at the time:
He sat up, slid himself down from the bed (one of his new tricks) with help from Mommy, and headed out into the ward to explore. He checked out the machines; he poked his head into the other rooms; he tried to get into the dirty room where they put plaster casts on broken bones; and then – still wearing nothing but a pair of pants – he started to run. Okay, walk fast, but still. He led Daddy on a long race, running laps around the nurses station. I mean that literally: he was pretty much running laps, giggling as Daddy chased after him. Every once in a while he’d fake a move to the left and try to dash into one of the other patients’ rooms – always curious, this one – and then resume his laps.
Finally around 10:15, one of the nurses at the nurses station looked up and said ‘I think we can send Nyan home. He looks fine.’ They did one last look at his vitals and off we went.
April was also the month when Nyan decided he was a two-year-old and would act accordingly. That is, throw tantrums. He threw the mother of all tantrums one day while visiting Colchester, which included yelling at some Buddhist monks and getting in a kicking-and-hitting match with an automatic door that Nyan didn’t want to open, but which kept opening anyway. Plenty of smaller tantrums too. So we had to quickly learn the tricks: ignore them as much as possible; change the environment (i.e. get him to another room if possible), and so forth. He still throws little tantrums when he doesn’t get what he wants, and he definitely gives the word “No” a solid workout every day, but for the most part his tantrums are in and out like a summer storm, arriving suddenly and with great passion, and ending just as quickly.
The month wasn’t all bad, though, not at all. Toward the end of April, for example, we made a Sunday family trip to a place called Lea Valley Park farms, about half an hour north of London, where Nyan met pigs, sheep, goats, rabbits, chickens, meerkats, horses, even a whole bunch of Siberian huskies.
And then there were the usual antics. Playing in the tub, reading, talking, walking lots, drawing, making a mess during dinner. That’s our boy.