martes, 23 de abril de 2013

Fever, books and roses

My girl had fever yesterday and the day before. She has always been incredibly healthy and since she weaned this was the first time around she had fever. She must have had fever only a couple of times in the past but those times consisted more or less of a sleepless night -for me- with a high temperature and nursing a lot. Because she has so seldom been sick, I can see the significance of this fever.
Last week she slept rather little and we all experienced some uneasy moments. She refused to nap and went to bed desperately late. She cried a lot as well. We could see she was undergoing some important changes and tried hard to help her, to no avail. Towards the end of the week, I decided that I was no longer actively going to put her to sleep during the daytime and told her so. I explained how important it is to be well rested and that anytime she felt tired it would be awesome for her to go to sleep for a while. After a rather rough couple of days -Wednesday and Thursday-, at noon on Friday she decided to go to bed and napped for one and a half hours. That was nice! I promise I had despaired and felt my whole way of raising her was a failure. It was nice to realize that she is indeed able to recognize she is tired and go to rest.
Then came the weekend and weekends are never good in terms of consolidating new routines. On Sunday eve she fell ill with a fever and has slept a lot ever since. Today she was not completely recovered but I've been able to see the new girl emerging after the bout of fever. She is taller and thinner and looks grown in general. She has even used some new expressions and words that she would use her own way have switched to the right word. She sounds so grown up. The activities I had prepared for the week and which remained completely untouched yesterday because she spent all day napping on the couch have been approached today and she has even told her father that she wanted to finish "all this activity" before having supper.
Oh. How much I love my girl. If only I had words to express it the way it deserves. But I don't want to try any clumsy attempts.
It was Sant Jordi here today and we've gone for a stroll, the kids and me, to see the stands full of roses and books and although I fear it has become a commercial strategy that makes both books and roses less valuable, I still like it the way I used to when I was a girl and books were my truest love. I do love books and flowers so even if I didn't intend to buy nor the first neither the latter, we've set out to feel the festive atmosphere. The smell of Mediterranean broom on a spring morning, which hasn't changed since my teenage years recall me of this love. Books were a door to new worlds, to knowledge of new things, something I truly cherished. And, I believe I have passed this on to my daughter.
I had indeed gotten a new book (Montessori letter work by Bobby and June George) for her today but it came via mail and we have given it to her this afternoon. I have the feeling we are going to enter a new sensitive period for letters very soon.

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