When sickness strikes

Our house has been struck with bug after bug the past couple of weeks. From tonsillitis, to colds, to gastro, the poor boys have been hit hard. There has been a significant amount of vomit, lots of high temps and tears, and of course, as many mummy cuddles as I can give.

I always wonder whether the fact they were premature and have always been on the very low end of the growth charts means they are more susceptible to illness, or if it means it takes them longer to recover.

Yesterday little Roc took himself to off to bed at 3pm. For the night. He didn't properly wake up until 7am this morning. He wasn't even hungry when he eventually woke. I hauled him to the doctor, still in pyjamas, and then he slept again from 9.30am until midday. And then at 4.30pm, it was all too much, and he took himself off again to bed. After a very animated reading of The Grinch he was fast asleep by 5pm.

For a child who usually doesn't stop talking, or moving, from the second he wakes until the second he sleeps, it has been very disconcerting.

Only the day before, Hamish was feverish, sleepy and unwell with tummy pain. If you follow me on instragram, you'll know that last week they both fell asleep on the waiting room floor of the doctor's surgery while we were waiting to be called. Once we were in the doctor's little room, Hamish vomited all over him, while Rocky fell asleep in the patient's chair - completely upright.

I've been trying to nourish their bodies and souls with restorative broths, vitamin fuelled juices and plenty of mama cuddles.

Poor little bears. I hope it ends soon. As much as I sometimes wish for peace and quiet, I'd take their noise and chaos any day over this awful illness and the disturbing quiet that accompanies it.