Cough, cough, cough.

I have a really crappy cough, for almost a week now. It comes with a slightly runny nose and a whole lot of nausea. As you know, I don't do sick, so I have been a bit of a miserable shit. Last night I was coughing quite badly after I got to bed. At 1am the Pixie woke up and started to cry. I sat up on the side of the bed and had a bit of a cough before I grabbed her. LHT rolls over and says, "Take some cough medicine." "I can't," I said. "Why not?" "Because I don't know what's in it and I have to be careful what I take while I'm breast feeding." A few minutes go by and I have a soother dug out of the bottom of the first aid kit tucked into my cheek. "Do we have cough medicine?" I ask. "I don't know," he replies. "Why did you tell me to take some then?" "So you'd shut up," he said. Oh how loving is that. I wish there was two of him... NOT! I woke up this morning with furry cheeks from the soother and the Pixie still in my arms. So much for sleeping in her own bed. Lucky I am prepared to accept the consequences of that with open arms and a smile on my face. (Much how I approach everything else.) I can just see us now, 4 kids between us and struggling to keep a spot in my own bed! My niece always slept with my sister but not my nephew and they would both still get in with their parents given the chance.

Oh dear, I have just turned around to look at the pixie who is eating peanut butter toast in her highchair and there is peanut butter everywhere. Time to roll up the sleeves. I think she might walk in the next few days (she really tried yesterday at department of transport to get to this little boy), expect a LOT of bragging when she does.