He had a restless night. At 4.20 I was thinking oh no, this can’t be it, but thank god he eventually dropped off again until nearly 7.00. He has been chattering ever since. And climbing. And jumping. And galloping like a horsey. And asking what’s that this? about everything he sees, whether he knows what that this is or not. He has been commentating and chasing and throwing things around. He has been refusing to get dressed, except on his terms. Refusing to wash or eat or have his teeth brushed, except in his own good time. Tormenting Maisy. Jabbering and nattering and wittering on and on and on. Running round in circles, over the sofa, over mama. Jumping on mama. His bedtime story was interrupted on every page by questions. What’s that this? What’s chimley mama? What’s mouse doing? What’s that this? Where’s dolls gone? Where’s fish gone? Where’s ham gone? What’s that this policeman doing mama? – prizes for guessing the story.
Eventually he relaxed off to sleep in my arms, and didn’t even open his eyes when plopped into his bed, his hair all damp, face red and warm. I can hear his deep breathing from the floor below. Let it stay like this all night.
Different kids obviously, but if mine had a day like this I would assume a bug or fever was about to follow. He seems to go slightly manic just before the illness proper sets in.
Oh please don’t let it be that; he is only just over the last one!
No idea on the story – the policeman has confused me.
I sometimes ask Tom to “stop tormenting Monty/Treacle” (delete as appropriate). So, the other day, whilst I was trying to pin him down long enough to get him undressed for a shower when he wanted to play a little longer, he said “STOP tormenting meeeeee!”. Hilarity ensued.