That Was The Weekend That Was….

I really must do this more often…….

Well, what an eventful weekend.  Maybe not eventful as ………. tiring.

First off I have to thank Uncle Jason and Aunty Amy for taking the daughter to the beach yesterday and also for letting her sleep over on Saturday night.  I’m not going to say it was nice for a bit of peace, see I didn’t, but I know that she thoroughly enjoyed herself and loved every minute of it.  Thank you.

On the flip side to that, I have a little boy who is still out of sorts.  He is still off his food and milk and keeps crying, mainly when I’m trying to sleep.  It’s not his fault, bless him, just wish I knew what the problem was.

The daughter had a sore throat last week so we think he may have a case of that, add in the wonderful topic of teething, and I think we have the whole package.  It also doesn’t help that it’s so bleedin’ hot!

But saying that, I think he has turned the corner and is recovering.  Up until last night he was sleeping a lot better than a few days ago.  Oh well, we can but help he’s on the mend.

Other than the children, the weekend was kinda boring.  I spent some time sitting, cutting the grass and little gardening, and a load of housework, interspersed with many periods of ‘sit-down’.  Why did I ever think it would be a good idea to tidy up when it’s roasting??

Obviously, the TV was showing the tennis yesterday, due to the wife’s insistance.  It’s good that a Brit has finally won Wimbledon, but I’m just glad he did it in three sets and not five.  It ended earlier than I expected!  Well, I had Top Gear to watch……

Where did THAT come from?!

Now I knew before I started that parenting had it’s own special difficulties.

Teaching a child not to pee on the curtains.  Teaching a child that the Xbox is not a toy but a serious adult machine.  Teaching a child that cat biscuits are not sweeties.  Teaching a child that the family cat is not a glove puppet. 

All these are common hurdles in which to get over during the parenting journey.  All fairly harm less and not too costly to repair.  I can handle these but, there are other instances that are just to gross to comprehend.

Yes, I am talking about illness.  When a man has a cold, as we all know, the world must stop and look after him by supplying the remote control and plenty of reassuring words.  The woman can either flake out on the sofa watching endless repeats of crappy reality TV or they can play the world’s saviour and carry on doing the housework whilst dripping snot all over the carpet.

Children on the other hand can not really tell you what’s going on.  It just kind of happens.  And always at times when you’re not expecting it.

As you know, I have a daughter that will be three in a month or so.  Last night she erupted.  Spontaneously and without warning.

I was awoken by crying at approx. 1.30am.  I unsuspectingly arose from the bed and went into the daughters bedroom.  The sight that greeted me was, just, eeeewww.  In fact the smell hit me first.  Rancid.

She was sitting up, in bed, with her hand over her mouth.  Why she was doing this with her hand I could not say, I mean, she had already just covered her bed with puke.  I can’t see how grabbing a handful and playing with it was any help at all.  Especially as I didn’t know it was there when I carried her to the bathroom.  Maybe she was scared of not finding her way back to the room so she wanted to leave a trail?  I don’t know.

I know this isn’t a pleasant story to tell, but I am merely highlighting a part of the manual that never got printed.  At no point did I read that, ‘…at some stage during your child’s development, you will be called upon to clean up after the ‘sick sprinkler’.  The huge talent in all children where they seem to have the natural instinct to be sick through their fingers.  I think, deep down, this is a present for the parents.  To give them something nice to look at when they are cleaning.’

I think the one positive I can take from this situation is that while Mummy and Daddy were cleaning up after daughter, for like three hours, the prodigal son remained asleep and did not flinch at all the screaming and crying noises.

It would appear that another deep sleeping, snorer has been recruited to the family.

That didn’t go to plan…

Christmas 2012.

What a waste.

It was supposed to be a time of great joy and merriment.  I mean, that’s Christmas as a whole anyway but this year was supposed to be extra special, obviously with it being DJ’s first Chrimbo.

It was also our first Christmas where we stayed at home, cooked our own meals and ate our own snacks.  And most importantly got to watch what we wanted on the telly.

So what happened, I hear you ask?! (either that or the voices are back)

The dreaded flu.

If it was just one of us with it, it wouldn’t be so bad, just adapt around that one person and carrying on.  That is a bit more difficult to do when it’s the whole household who has contracted varying degrees of the illness.

The ability to enjoy copious amounts of food and drink dissipates just as quickly as the diminishing want to watch anything Christmassy on the BBC.

Don’t get me wrong, obviously we tried our best to have a good time.  Fighting off the nausea whilst playing Peppa Pig’s Snakes and Ladders.  Trying not to pass out whilst playing with SJ’s My Little Pony.  I tried my best.

I apolgise now to the parents who think it’s wrong, but at this time the TV made a great babysitter.  I could just about flick through the channels to keep her entertained.

Luckily for us, well me mainly, I start to get my strength back just in time to attend work.  How lucky can you get!

Anyway, I hope you all had a nice Christmas…