Our little Georgie has once again come down with another bout of Croup. A horrible, barking cough where he struggles to get breath, mainly suffering at night. He’s had it a few times now and I’ve started to see a pattern that it comes when he’s getting a new tooth through. It’s been another few days of minimal sleep and a sad little George to look after. It’s really common around this time of year and I’m pretty sure it’s nothing serious, but he’s needed lots of extra snuggles and yesterday we had a sick day at home, so he could stay warm and dry and try to kick it to the curb. Thankfully Stuart went into work late so he could take Henners off to school for me, so George and I spent the day in the warmth of home.
By 9am he was yawning his little head off, but was too restless to sleep. So we snuggled on the sofa, tucked up together under a soft blanket, watching Harry Potter (his new favourite film, hurrah!) and he was surprisingly happy to do so. George isn’t one for sitting down, sitting still, sitting in general and least of all snuggling! He likes to be roaming free, asking for each and every toy out of the toy box, his daily mission to get as much out as possible. It was so lovely to spend quiet time with him, so lovely to snuggle up and kiss his little blonde head, stroking his forehead like my mum used to do to me when I was small.
I dished him up a warming stew for lunch, left overs from the night before, but steaming, Autumnal goodness all the same. Of course he only touched the rice and then crawled back under the blanket for more down time, where his constant tossing and turning grew slower and his breathing began to deepen. He’d given in. The last few nights of horrible coughing and broken sleep had finally caught up with him and next to me, lying still and unusually peaceful, he drifted off for a nap.
Both our boys have never been ones for just drifting off anywhere other than their beds, sometimes the car. We’ve never had a cosy sofa nap together, throughout either of the boys growing up, and I wanted to cherish every moment because I knew I probably wasn’t likely to again. Warm and snuggled up together, him in my silhouette, desperately tired and at last having respite from his cough waking him. It made me happy and so content.
From the other room I could hear my emails pinging through, work coming in that I needed to do. Every minute child-free I get usually I take it to work, but in this moment all I knew I had to do was hold him, everything else could wait. As much as I wished I could take his illness away, I was grateful that it gave me this memory, this ordinary moment, to cherish.