No problem

So apparently there's plenty of love. The household has been wiped out with a stomach bug. I've been feeling seedy, but the boys have been wringing their guts out. Last night I was woken up by a small shadowy figure towering over me in my sleep. He had had a bad dream. He climbed into bed with me, and proceeded to pull all the blankets over on to his side. I woke up, freezing, and tried to straighten the covers. Jake moaned, complaining I had stolen his warm spot. Then, in the morning, with very little fanfare, I found him over the toilet bowl, very calmly losing his pepperoni pizza (and apparently some caramel corn) from the previous night. Although my own stomach was churning, I stood there and rubbed his little back until he had finished. I remember mum being incredibly attentive and knowing just what was needed when us girls were ill when we were little. So long as there's always someone there for him to make sure there is a straw in his lemonade and to cuddle him when he's upset, I think that's okay.