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Probably
sometime after three this morning I was standing, clad only in
a t-shirt, beside Matthew's bed. Debbie was on his bed holding
him, rocking him in her arms. This was just before he threw up
on her as I recall. Anyway, and this is really the point (what
thoughts exhaustion will drive you to), I was seriously contemplating,
as I stood there, whether if I closed my eyes for long enough,
I could fall asleep standing up. Just like a cow does. Just shut
my eyes and drift off.
Later,
sometime closer to five this morning, all three of us were lying
in our bed. Deb against the wall, Matthew in the middle, and me
on the outside. Debbie and I were fitfully trying to doze off.
Matthew was sniffing. Every breath. “Sniff”, “sniff”,
“sniff”. I guess he was trying to clear his nose or
something. Finally Debbie, who was educated at one of the finest
universities in America, including a year abroad at Oxford, who
is just about to complete a Master's degree, who has a responsible
job with the Government, turned to Matthew in desperation. “Matthew”,
she cajoled, “I think Mr Nose is tired now and wants to sleep.
Why don't we use Mr Mouth to breathe?” It sounded an eminently
reasonable suggestion to me. Matthew just sniffed.
It's
been like that the past three nights. Exhaustion and a desperation
to sleep have made for strange dreams and even stranger waking
moments. Matthew's been ill with some kind of bug. He's had a
very high temperature at nights, and been waking up crying. Debbie
and I have both been recovering from colds (for about the past
six damn months it seems!) and have been just hanging on. It's
been a blur and absolutely draining.
It
just melts your heart when you see him sick and with a temperature
and crying in the middle of the night and you'll do anything needed
to help him, but it also just makes you want to cry with frustration
yourself and pull the pillow over your head to drown out the noise
and just hope he'll drop off back to sleep when you first hear
those sounds of “Daddy … Daddy … Daddy” at
1.17am.
He
seems better this evening. We took him to the Dr today, to wait
40 mins in the crowded waiting room with a restless toddler who
started screaming and running for the door the moment the Dr finally
appeared, to be told that he wasn't too bad and appeared to be
on the mend and just see how things were in the morning. Oh, and
we paid for this - normally visits to the Dr's are free for under-6's,
but because it was the weekend we had to use an after-hours clinic.
Well,
it's after 10pm and I am completely bushed. I almost dread going
to sleep, wondering if I'll get woken up a couple hours later,
but maybe I'll get a reasonable sleep tonight.
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