Tuesday, 31 December 2013

A Poorly Boy on Christmas Eve

Looking forward to Christmas
After being either heavily pregnant, nursing a small baby or a combination of both for the last four Christmases I looked forward to an easier time this year. Since both Girlie Girl and Toddler Boy have settled into a bedtime routine I thought it reasonable to assume Christmas would be no exception. Visions of a glass of wine before the fire danced in my mind's eye as I tucked them into bed and put out the light.

A Cry in the Night
All went well until 11pm. Just as my eyelids drooped and I felt I couldn't possibly stay awake any longer there was a cry from upstairs. This signalled a long and worrying night.

Toddler Boy, face flushed, eyes bleary, temperature soaring at 39.3 degrees.

Febrile Convulsions
Immediate fears of Febrile Convulsions erupted in my breast. I shall never forget the terror on Halloween when Toddler Boy suddenly flopped forward unresponsive with no apparent breathing. Desperate attempts to revive him ensued. We thought he was choking so turned him upside down and tried to prise open his mouth that was clenched shut - no success. After what seemed like aeons of time his eyelids flickered open and that glorious sound of breath being taken followed.

NHS Helpline
Here on this stormy Christmas Eve night I feared the same would occur. A long time was spent on the NHS helpline. I sent my husband to bed anticipating he would need to be on top form to look after Girlie Girl on Christmas day. I sat cradling my little boy waiting to hear from the doctor. At 3am I got the call to bring Toddler Boy into hospital. The storm howled about us and the outside world seemed so menacing I wondered which was more frightening; stay at home and face the illness alone or risk the turbulent drive to hospital to face waiting rooms of bleeding party goers and germs which could result in an even more poorly boy. Luckily, thankfully, the Paracetamol and Ibuprophen worked their magic and his temperature dropped. This was my answer and the lovely doctor on the phone agreed.

Parents are Super Heroes
Sitting in a moment of relieved peace it struck me hard and clear what position us parents are in. The guardians of these tiny beings whose safety can be threatened in the blink of an eye. The decisions we make can stretch to the ends of the earth and are made in moments of weakness, emotional and physical fatigue. In such moments even a storm mutates into a howling monster intent on clawing the car off the road if we venture out.

I'm sure I'm not alone. Many mums and dads will no doubt find themselves facing these dilemmas in the dead of night. Then there are those whose Christmas has been flooded and bereft of heat, light, cosy cheer and festivity. Parents who have to wade through their sodden homes to try to make a special Christmas for their little ones and families.

It makes me realise that Super Heroes are not fictional characters at all. They are living in houses all over the world being strong and saving their loved ones every day and every night.

Monday, 9 December 2013

Pukefest 2013

Just when I thought I was on a roll with blogging and had all these ideas for future articles I was suddenly invited to Pukefest 2013.
The venue was my children's bedroom, the start time was 11pm, the finish time was yet to be decided.
The support act was toddler boy. He started proceedings with his unique projectile style, covering a 1 metre radius of his cot.
His endeavours were closely followed by girly girl. Her style was much more laid back, preferring instead to remain in sleeping position, head lolling over the side of the bed, dowsing much of the surrounding carpet.
Though I certainly did not shout 'Encore' at the end of each act of Pukefest 2013, they insisted on re-enacting their original performance a further four times throughout the night and early dawn.
By 3am there was not one single item of bedding or pyjamas that had not performed in Pukefest 2013. Quite a few cuddly toys along with a good amount of carpet and wall had also taken part in this astounding event.
The following few days were filled with cleaning and washing the entire contents of a shared bedroom and wardrobe along with a growing desperation of finding places to dry sheets.
The notion of sitting at my computer and feeling inspired to write was the stuff of dreams until today when the final load of washing whirred into life and girly girl said 'Goodbye' at the school lunch table.
It's a funny mix for me. When my little ones are poorly there is the stress and strain of looking after them and all the fall out of mess and mahem that ensues but there is also plenty of cuddles. In their subdued poorly state even toddler boy snuggles on the sofa and sits quietly with blanket - well for a few minutes at least!

Tuesday, 3 December 2013

Bless all the dear children - a little festive cheer

Today my little girl picked up the nativity story and said proudly, 'This is the story of manger mummy.' Love it, all the talk of Jesus and Santa and she remembers the manger.

Whilst looking at turkey crowns in the supermarket she said, 'I like all these turtles.' They actually do look like turtles.

Naughty Idea: Should I call the turkey a turtle when I dish up Christmas dinner? It could be one of those scenarios that results in my little ones believing they are eating turtle at Christmas for years to come. This reminds me that me and my brothers believed my mum was a cave girl in 'The Land That Time Forgot'. She had an answer for everything, she said she'd been covered in boot polish and changed her name so her parents wouldn't find out and we wholeheartedly believed her and told all the kids at school.