R has a cold. It sounds so trivial. It’s part of a Scottish winter. Man up and head back out into the rain again. A cold for R is rarely trivial, though. And while this time we have avoided a trip to A&E, for the last week she has been very poorly indeed. When R has a cold her already disordered breathing becomes much worse. She and we are comfortable with her usual quirks. The irregular breathing that accompanies her cold scares her (it’s not just a blocked nose; she quite simply stops breathing). And because she is scared, she hasn’t been sleeping.
Broken nights are the norm for us. So when I say that she hasn’t been sleeping, I mean exactly that. She got up this morning at 4; yesterday it was midnight. I am so tired that I want to cry. Instead, I am short tempered and distracted. F and EB are very sympathetic: “give Mum a break; she’s tired and stressed”. This makes me want to cry too. Should children of their age really be so wise? And then I feel guilty that I should even be complaining: how much worse for my poor, scared, tired and sick little girl?
So not one for the jar then. Here’s hoping that R has a better night.