When Layla doesn't feel well I can tell instantly. Her need to touch me goes from once every 10 minutes to once every 10 seconds. Her constant touch sometimes drives me crazy but I know it gives her comfort so I do my best to let her lay for endless amounts of time on my lap watching movies. Her favorite is to push up against my legs at the bottom of my chair with her hands on my lap. I don't know why. It seems akward to me to stand at someone's feet with your hands on their lap for an hour straight. But, it's not my comfort, it's hers so she can do it however she likes.
Her primary form of comfort comes from laying on me. She used to stick her hand up my shirt while she slept when she was a baby but as she's gotten older she sticks it inside the pillowcase instead. Not Thursday night though. Thursday night a molar made it's nasty entrance into the world and I found myself sleeping all night with a toddler on my chest with her hand on my tummy under my shirt and that stuffed cow I love to hate laying on my face wrapped up in her spindly little arms.
At least one of us was comforted by the situation.