Lizzie is shriveling (a fever transport to Wonderland)

Lizzie doesn't feel well today so she is snugged in a chair watching Aladdin when she tells me, "my feet are shriveling."
Then it was her hands, her stomach,her brain, her ears, then all her bones.
With all the shriveling, she began to wonder, "What does shriveling mean?"

Mom: "It's kind of like shrinking. Maybe you mean shaky and achy."

Lizzie: "What does shaky achy mean?"

I explain.

She said, "No, I mean shriveling." She explained how her "ear bone" was shrinking and gestured with her fingers, "this small" and instantly I knew what she meant, she meant shriveling.

I suddenly remembered a few times when I was sick as a kid, I felt tiny (and fuzzy) -- I can almost feel it just thinking of it -- it was like a molecular shift where, even though I was still there and whole, I was particles and I was tiny -- even though I took up the same space as usual.

I had bigness happen to me too. I didn't even have to be sick for big to happen.

I can remember me in my favorite red skorts (white buttons on the side, I was a kindergarten it girl) -- I just remember standing there in my skorts and having the sensation that I was far above the ground -- not floating, my feet were touching the ground and I towered over them, and yet I was regular size all at the same time. The big and small thing would last, so I got to ponder in the weirdness of for a long time which is probably why it's so vivid for me now.

The "shriveling" was way cooler than being big -- very Star Treck transport. I'd better go tend to Lizzie before she beams out.