Charlie’s sick today. His first cold, I think. Or it could be teething. Not sure to be honest – I’m just kinda making it up as I go along. I will say though, that Twitter and Facebook can be mighty helpful for late night medical advice. Who knew?)
He was a bit snuffly yesterday morning but he’s had touches like that on and off and it never developed, so I thought nothing of it. We packed up and went off to celebrate mum’s birthday (and early Mother’s Day for all the gals in the family). It was great and he was love-bombed by everyone in the family and seemed to thoroughly enjoy it.
But when we got home he went downhill, snotty and coughing and sneezing. He was hot and miserable and screaming on and off and doing his weird wah-wah-wah wind down noise so I brought him out to the couch and made him a bed next to us. He was happy for a bit with the novelty of that, but then back to crying and doing his very loud wah-wah-wah etc. (It was so loud we had to tell him several times to tone it down so we could hear the vacuous conversations on Real Housewives of Melbourne. We were joking. Sort of.)
The poor bubba just got hotter and hotter and started crying in this desperate way so despite everyone on social media telling us to forget Panadol til he has a temperature (and our two thermometers only had him at 37.2), I gave him some around 11pm. He sat on his dad’s lap and calmed right down and then went to sleep.
We’d had a leak in our room and it was chilly in there, but warm in the lounge room, so I decided to make a big bed on the couch and sleep there with him. He didn’t let go of me all night. I know everyone needs a bosom for a pillow, but this kid takes it to new heights. (My gigantic bosoms didn’t even work for breastfeeding but he still loves motorboating and snuggling into them whenever possible.)
The upside of my poor chubba being sick is that he’s started calling me mama. “Mama, mama,” he cried last night, holding up his arms for me. He’s said it a million times this morning too, snotty and coughing and just wanting cuddles. I think it’s safe to say he’s no longer teasing me with the ‘ma-ma-ma-mas’ and finally knows that ‘mama’ means me. Which is kind of heart-explodingly major. (I’m pretty sure that counts as his first word.)
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go suction some more snot out of my little guy’s nose.