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Whenever Elfie is ill I get the overwhelming feeling of “it’s not fair”. When she had a bug as a baby it was all whinging, taking blood sugars, constantly checking temperatures and days in hospital. Thankfully now she’s older, stronger and we know her condition inside-out we no longer need to do the dash to casualty but there are other reasons why a poorly Elfie pulls on the heart strings.
She can speak, for one, and when she’s ill she talks in the most pitiful way. I challenge any one of you to not melt when she’s reclining on the sofa saying “mummy, poorly. Cuddle?”. It’s delightfully heartwrenching.
Luckily my mum was able to take Hux for the day yesterday, and as horrible as a night of vomiting interspersed with fitful sleeping with Elfie in the spare bed was (she made me sing The Wheels On The Bus for HOURS), we spent the whole day cuddling on the sofa with Peppa Pig and it was a really lovely time.
She let me take her into the bath and wash the sick out of her hair (nice) and then we dried off in front of the fire and sang yet more Wheels On The Bus. She fell asleep snuggled on my chest and I managed to reach the remote and flick to catch up on the X Factor USA. An hour of blissful cuddles and Britney Spears (is it just me or does she still seem slightly unhinged?).
Elfie’s feeling a lot better today – though still napping lots and Peppa on loop – and I’m looking forward to her being back to her normal happy self. Saying that I have enjoyed this time with her, I think because seeing your babies grow up is so bittersweet. They’re quickly growing into such independent little things and being needed for ‘baby cuddles’ once more feels very special.