Is there anything worse for a mamma than when your wee one is out of sorts?
Man, it’s so heart-breaking.
We spent all day on Sunday trying to console our sick kiddo. Typically it started in the early hours of Sunday morning. Midnight…3am…waking up crying, needing comforted. Finally we were up for the day at 6am…just in time to see off my brother, mum and sister-in-law as they left to head back to Cardiff.
Levi is usually a bag of desperately cute fun – climbing stuff, whizzing around the room on all fours looking for crumbs on the floor (we do feed him, he’s just a starvo) so when all he wanted to do today was lie on the rug or on my chest and cuddle his bunny – you know he’s not at himself.
I instagrammed this picture this afternoon:
And the caption below it was ‘My arm is dead, my pillow is covered is snot & my diet coke is warm but it’s cool cause this guy needs some rest. And that’s parenting in a nutshell’.
It couldn’t have felt more true today. When your child needs you, everything else is second. Forget your plans, make way for some relentless cuddling. Both of us wrote off the day and donned our dressing gowns for its entirety (not that it was a massive sacrifice – you KNOW I’m a partial to taking any opportunity to get away with as little personal hygiene as possible – not in a gross way – just a lazy way).
I’m putting the temperature, crankiness and drooly mouth down to a bad case of teething. Damn those teeth, they really do a number on these wee ones. I’ve also added ‘The Teething’ to my list of stuff that people didn’t prepare me for when I was expecting. It’s definitely a huge part of the first year at least and should be highlighted in the anti-natal classes as a big contributing factor for loss of sleep.
Anyway, in the midst of the worry and the incessant temperature taking of the day, there was stark yet lovely reminder of how much Levi depends on us and last night I went to bed weary (and unclean) yet confident that I would not have spent my Sunday any other way.