Monday, July 30

Frogs and Snails and Puppy Dogs Tails



So, our new baby is going to be a boy baby. How very exciting.

Gwen wants to call him Jack-May. Molly wants to call him Mazzy. He probably won't be called either.

My friend was saying how lovely it'll be to have this little muddy person with cuts and bruises on his chubby little knees. I've got two of those already.

And me? I'm fantasising about my little floppy-haired boy child wearing lots of stripes and being really cwtchy. I just have one question - what do you do with willies?

The Pox

Oh, the pox. I've gotten away with it for over five years, but over the last few weeks, the pox has struck. First Moll, who just got a few spots, then carried on regardless being her own bonkersly energetic self.

Forgot all about it for two weeks, until Friday morning. I'd packed a picnic, text my friend to say we'd meet her in the park at half ten, then we sat down for a late breakfast. Gwen said she had a sore eye and a spot on her mouth. They both looked a bit poxy. I lifted up her top and there were a handful of blistery spots. Oh dear.

We counted the spots - there were 17 of them. She seemed quite chirpy. I thought it was another mild case. 

That night we camped in the garden - we had everything out ready to go camping this week, so thought we'd do it at home instead. It was like proper camping. We ate Pot Noodles for tea (or Pop Noodles, as Moll calls them). We went for a walk in the woods and the girls played in the stream. They stayed up late and we drank hot chocolate outside the tent in our PJs.

(At six months pregnant, camping involves getting out of the cosy tent every hour to have a wee (and treading on a slug - IN MY BARE FEET!). I had air mattress malfunction and had to go inside at 2am and retrieve Gwen's mattress from her bed to sleep on.  It wasn't the best night's sleep.)

By Saturday AM, Gwen was a lot less chipper and had about a million more spots. By lunchtime, she has a fever and looked like a plague victim. Every time she looked in the mirror or saw a glimpse of her bare arms or legs, she burst into tears. On Sunday, she wept almost all day long. Poor Snail.

Today, no crying, a bit of energy back but still very, very spotty. So on this lovely sunny weekend, I've been trapped at home with one sick floppy child and one child who's a bit like a puppy that needs to be exercised for at least two hours a day or else they start gnawing on the table legs and doing laps of the dining room (she actually does this).

So, there have been a lot of 'activities' - I'm all about nature and free play, mixed with a bit of organised crafty stuff. This was non-stop action to keep both parties entertained, all within the confines of our own four walls. Phew. This is what we've been up to:
  • Made Blod a birthday cake (Happy 7th Birthday Blodders!) out of tuna, leftover spaghetti, eggs, flour and garlic. Topped with cheese, baked in oven, stuck candles in it and had a dog birthday party. 



  • Did watercolour paintings of the seaside to imagine what our first pox-free day out might be like.
  • Collected eggs from next door's chickens, then made them into two carrot cakes - one for us, one for them.
  • Made masks, so she could hide her spots (spurred on by a very Gwen-like dramatic outburst of tears and wailing of "Whenever I look at myself in the mirror, I feel sick").

  • Read almost all 189 pages of Enid Blyton's The Faraway Tree out loud - and I am almost hoarse.
  • Washed all the teddies and hung them out on the line to dry.
  • Played on Garage Band and made up a song sampling the word 'bottom' quite a lot.
  • Took about a squillion photographs of ourselves in PhotoBooth on the iPad.
  • Watched Cats and Dogs (getting desperate by now).
It's very, very rare that I look forward to going to work on a Tuesday, but I can do no more mothering tomorrow. I am exhausted. The pox sucks.