The Morning After

We spent the weekend in Breda -- Mirthe had her first sleepover at a friend's house -- and after dropping her off we headed over to meet up with Thessa and Stein, and Thessa's new love, Toon, at a restaurant in the Ginneken. For a few days Anna had been showing signs of developing the "sleeping flu" (high fever and the ability to sleep 23.5 hours a day) that's been raging here in the Netherlands. By the time we ordered she had her head down on the table, so we made a little bed out of coats in a corner and she curled up and slept for the three hours we were there. Eric carried her the short distance to Toon's house (where we would be spending the night) and I laid her on a bed, high in the house, under the watchful eyes of Pippa the Cat and headed downstairs for a drink and chats with Thessa. By the time I headed back upstairs Anna's fever was in full swing and would remain so the rest of the night -- she slept in fitful stretches, waking only to ask in a small voice for water, water, water. I did not sleep at all, or so it seemed -- just laid next to her and rubbed her back and held the water glass to her lips, which were dry and cracked. Felt like a bad mama for dragging my sick child all over town. Felt tugged in four directions -- poor Anna, Mirthe who was so looking forward to her Lisa-weekend, Eric who was so happy to be in an actual restaurant and talking with grownups (we don't get out much :-) and myself, who desperately wanted some sleep but didn't dare, with Anna's fever hovering around 105 and her body shaking in fits every so often.

Somewhere around Anna's usual wakeup time, 7:10, her eyes opened and I saw that she was on the better side of sick. After some paracetamol she perked up enough to try sitting, and then she discovered Pippa, who had been keeping guard since the early morning hours.

A small soft friendly cat is hands-down the best medicine a four-year-old -- and her mama -- can wish for :-)