spirited little chicken

jambeans was horribly ill on saturday night. she was completely burning up with fever. we had to wake her up, strip her down, syringe calpol into her mouth and then dump her into a cool bath. she just screamed in outrageous protest all the way through, which was totally justifiable because there is no greater insult than having your beauty sleep (albeit feverish and semi-conscious) disturbed by bigger, stronger people with their own agenda.

she woke up a few more times during the night, obviously cos she was ill but a bit of me also likes to think it was renewed indignation at our brusque treatment of her earlier on. boyfried did the florence nightingale thang at and mopped her brow with a damp flannel and her fever broke. must be his oversized healing hands...

she's over the worst of it now but her breathing is really short at night time and she's got that horrible raspy, chesty cough that has come back frequently ever since she had adenovirus. with no basis for it, other than parental anxiety, i am now worried about her being asthmatic when older.

adversity aside, she has proven herself to be a spirited little chicken, and even though still a bit poorly she's on adorable form. i really think we got a bit closer when bf was away and she's really started to initiate physical contact with me - she lays her head on my chest, and crawls over to me like a puppy with a big sloppy grin on her face for big big cuddles and i dunno if i've said it before but it's just brilliant being a mum.