What about my sick day?

I’m sat in bed writing this on my phone, watching the baby stretch and fart as he wakes up from a sleep. I’ll soon have to change and feed him again, then hope he settles back asleep quickly, so I can rest.
I’ve a cold. A really rotten one too. But whereas before I could crawl under my duvet and stay there – not caring what I ate, drank or what tablets I popped, I now have to make sure I eat and drink properly, and only take paracetamol. Which isn’t really touching the aches and pains. The drinking is a real issue, because of breast feeding I’ve got to drink more than normal, but with copious amounts of gunk being blown out my nose too, I need to make sure I don’t get dehydrated.
Yesterday I felt better in the afternoon and pottered about the house, big mistake as I feel much worse today. So here I am propped up on pillows, book by my side, keeping my fingers crossed the boy sleeps for longer than an hour in each stretch so I get some decent blocks of sleep too.
Cough, cough, cough.

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