Friday, 26 October 2012

Blogging in the dark.

It's 5am. I've given up on sleeping.

First there was the coughing.  All that pollen and smoke and wind plus a slight cold has got Sarah wheezing away.  It's years since she's struggled with asthma but I was on the verge of giving her Redipred last night.  Luckily the puffer seems to be enough for now.

Tuck in, stroke hair.  Kiss, cuddle.  Repeat.

On my way back to bed, I had to comfort Issy who thought there were spiders in her room.  We double checked.  No spiders.  Whew.

Tuck in, stroke hair.  Kiss, cuddle. Repeat.

At 4am Issy woke me.  She was crying in her room.  Which was strange because normally she comes and gets into bed with us.  Mike got up, and I thought, for one incredible second, that he might be going to the crying child.

He was just going to the loo.  I am a fool.

She was hiding in a corner of the room, terrified because she said something was crawling on her and in her bed.  Ants, she thought.

We turned on the bedside light, (much to Josh's disgust) and checked thoroughly.  Nothing.

She kept thinking she could see them, walking up in the half light from under the bed.  I felt terrible for her, whatever she was seeing it seemed real to her and she was petrified.

I began to worry whether her knock to the head on Wednesday was making her hallucinate.   Maybe it was a symptom of concussion?  Or maybe she just has an overactive imagination brought on by a very silly game they were playing before bed.  Which was about spiders.

After 15 minutes I coaxed her back into bed.  Turned off the light.

Tuck in, stroke hair.  Kiss, cuddle.  Repeat about 50 times until she is asleep.

Same for Josh.  Just once though, he is nearly asleep again.

Go back to bed.  Toss, turn.  Worry I haven't blogged.

Try to sleep.  Sleep will serve me better in a few hours than blogging will.

Think of all the things I have to do today.  Worry about a press release I am writing.

Worry about Issy.  Go and check on her.

Give up.  Get up.  Make tea.  Sit at computer in the dark.  Listen to Sarah cough.

Here I am.