Small girl is sick. She has a proper cold, complete with runny nose and bad temper. She’s also discovered that boogers are tasty, in that stomach churning way that all kids do. There’s a great big sneeze, lovely sticky mucous runs all the way down to her chin, then out darts the tongue over the top lip for a good taste while I’m gagging trying to get to her with the tissue.
A fight ensues, her head whipping back and forth while I try to wipe her chin, mouth, nose in one deft movement while trying to gently hold her as she bats at me with her now-strong arms and wails.
“Omigod that’s so disgusting!’ Exclaims Roz each time, forgetting her own adventures in nostril mining that ended only a few months ago.
Children are just marvellous!
Twice today small girl has fallen asleep off the breast, opting for breath than the crazed near suffocation of trying to feed with a blocked nose. I’m not yet sure how I feel about that. Half relieved she can fall asleep cradled in my arms, half exasperated that it takes thrice as long for her to fall asleep this way. But hey, I’ll take sleeping baby over cranky awake baby anytime.
Then I promised big girl on Monday that she could sleep in the bed with us on Wednesday, and I had to keep my promise. So here I lie, awake, five past midnight, sandwiched between the two kids, knowing I’m bidding my night’s sleep farewell.