Sick

I don’t know about you but, when I was ill as a child, my mum used to make me up a bed up on the sofa.

However, as he’s still quite small, last night we decided to allow Jamie to continue his convalescence in a DIY bed on the floor. I think he looks happy enough.

I haven’t mentioned it here yet but our little lad has been quite ill over the last seven days or so.

About this time last week we noticed he was getting yet another cold – he’s had quite a few since his arrival in Pudsey.

Then, last Friday, his breathing started to become quite heavy, his cough a little on the violent side and he was going off his food.

He seemed a lot worse on Saturday morning and, after a particularly impressive vomit all over his new red sleepsuit, Vanessa phoned NHS Direct. 90 minutes later, we had him in with the emergency doctor who diagnosed a suspected chest infection.

We loaded him up with Calpol and antibiotics for the next couple of days and, tonight, the six-day course of penicillin will come to an end.

The most important thing is that he’s now just about back to himself. He’s eating almost like he was, he’s not coughing much and he’s smiling like he’s demented.

I’m sure there will be many more bouts of kiddie illness to come in the months and years ahead but – thankfully - baby, mummy and daddy appear to have passed their first sickie test.