Last night I had an especially good sleep. We had just put fresh, clean sheets on the bed, and I had just finished a nice, longer-than-usual shower and donned my coziest pjs, fresh from the clean laundry basket. Slipping into bed was heavenly.
Of course all this was not so much luxury as it was necessity. Norah woke up extra early yesterday, then wanted to cuddle in bed with me after Francis had fed her breakfast. She fell asleep for nearly an hour, and I was happy to have the extra time to doze. At a little after 8am, I woke to hear her coughing, then - before I could react - she vomitted all over herself, me (including my hair!), and the bed. We started our day with a mother-daughter sponge bath, because I find lifting 24lbs in and out of the tub tricky with my big belly.
She spent most of the day clearly under the weather. She was extra affectionate (some days I call it "clingy") and took an extra nap. It was low-key but tiring in a funny way, so come bed time, I was grateful for the extra cozy & comfy sleeping arrangements.
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2 comments:
I remember one of the first times Geordie was sick. It was so sad how his little body would move. I'm not good with the stick stuff. That's Callum's department!
Why is it that everything just seems so PERFECT in life when there are clean sheets and fresh cosy jammies? I have never slept poorly under these conditions.
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