MAKE IT STOP - mocha beanie mummy

Pox Watch, Day 6,894/Half Term Day WhyIsItNotOverYet – We’re still alive. Barely.

February 17, 2012 By mocha beanie mummy 2 Comments

He’s eaten his weight in fruit. © Mocha Beanie Mummy

Isaac has succumbed to Facial Orifice Fluid (as have I)

We’ve watched a LOT of crap TV (did you know that 4 hours of back-to-back Fireman Sam can render an adult temporarily brain dead?)

I used a LOT of this. It’s not in the photo, but in addition to what you see on the table, there’s a massive tub full of Lego too.

It’s not easy building Lego stuff with a sick child coughing and sneezing down your neck asking “Have you finished it yet? Is it done yet? What is it Mommy? What are you building? Why are you building it? Why haben’t you finished it yet? Can I play with it when you’ve finished it? I want to play with it please, can I Mommy?”

For reasons which should be obvious, Wine o’ Clock is now at 4pm until Monday.

Filed Under: Facial Orifice Fluid (FOF), illness, Isaac, Lego, MAKE IT STOP, neurosis, Noah

Pox Watch Day 4/Half Term Day 1 – Exactly what kind of sweet hell IS this?

February 13, 2012 By mocha beanie mummy 4 Comments

You know when you start celebrating something faaarrrrrrrrr too early? And, you’re not smug about it, but you sure as hell feel victorious on the inside?

Seriously, there was NO smugness, because quite frankly, you were so relieved you were planning a spending a week crying in a corner?

Yeah, screw that.

It’s half term this week, so obviously, Noah has chicken pox. OMG does he have chicken pox. He’s currently sitting on the sofa, Calpol’d up to his eyeballs, almost unrecognisable because his face is PLASTERED in calamine lotion. I thought Isaac had it bad? Ohhh God I was so so very wrong.

Not only is he suffering on the surface, he’s riddled with FOF and a delightful hacking cough (as is his brother). Also like his brother, he cried through most of his porridge and calamine bath, and the only thing that seems to be working on him is the placebo of putting cream directly onto his skin. Which works for as long as it takes for him to feel itchy again.

Which is about 3-5 minutes.

I’m amused watching the effects of Calpol; he looks (and sounds) like crap, then about 2 minutes after a dose, he’s excitedly playing with whatever is nearest, ignoring my pleas of “take it easy Noah” and “don’t roll around on the floor because it will make you sore” and “no, you can’t go and play outside, trust me”. This lasts about 10 minutes, then it’s back to the moaning and groaning noises of a child on their last legs.

The Mr is going to learn the hard way that pandering to this every time will land him firmly wrapped around Noah’s little finger. Isaac managed this in a very skilled fashion; I sat back, played the role of The Tough-Love Mom while laughing behind my hands. Both kiddos call for their Dad in the middle of the night now because they know I won’t sit and have a 10 minute conversation with them.

Hah.

So! Half term. It’s going to be awesome. I suspect it will look something like this:

He’s watching marathon sessions of Fireman Sam on Cartoonito. Good times, right? Good times.

Filed Under: Facial Orifice Fluid (FOF), illness, MAKE IT STOP, Noah, parenting, Ultimate Stresssss

Pox Watch Day 4 – MAKE IT STOP.

January 31, 2012 By mocha beanie mummy 6 Comments

Head to toe. Very bloodshot right eyeball as of about 30 minutes ago. Screams when he pees. 4 hours of sleep. Loss of appetite. Fever.

REALLY done with it now.

Filed Under: illness, Isaac, MAKE IT STOP, parenting, photos, Ultimate Stresssss

Pox Watch Day 3 – Current Observations and Birthday Thoughts

January 30, 2012 By mocha beanie mummy 2 Comments

1. The spots. Will appear. Everywhere. And anywhere. If you can think of a place, they’re there. Oh, they are THERE.

2. I do not do well waking up every 1-2 hours.

3. Piriton does NOT make Isaac fall asleep.

4. Isaac let me eat my birthday breakfast of a plate of bacon. Whilst he may be ill, he is still considerate.

5. We have taught him well.

6. The Gruffalo, on repeat, somehow doesn’t get old.

7. Peppa Pig, on repeat, becomes tedious.

8. It’s amazing how you discover exactly how your body is able to mould itself into the shape of a sofa as your kid makes themselves comfy on your lap.

9. Snuggling with Isaac on a real sofa with a Graze.com box is lovely. Until he eats all your vanilla infused cherries.

10. It’s really hard to remain patient, when shit loads of lovely people suggest things to make your kiddo feel better and you’ve pretty much tried them all already. And nothing is working.

11. People are incredibly helpful.

12. It’s really ok to have some of the birthday Prosecco for your lunch, under the circumstances.

13. Somethings just do not distract from the pain. Including Lego. This makes me really sad.

14. What I think is “humour” can be really misunderstood by people who don’t really know me.

15. I have a darker sense of humour than I thought. Especially on minimal sleep and with poorly sick child.

16. It occurs to me I’m still waiting for the panic of turning 30 to settle in. 3 years ago.

17. Trying not to lose your rag when your kid is wailing for help, and you keep telling them you are doing everything you can and they just need to calm down and listen, but they keep wailing anyway, is REALLY hard. Frustration is a bitch.

18. It’s amazing how some “pyjama days” aren’t as good as you might like, and especially when all you want to do is throw yourself in the shower. *scratches*

19. I hate feeling guilty for wanting to be selfish for just 5 minutes. Just because the very poorly child with a rash the size of Africa covering his groin area, and yelled and cried all the time I was opening my presents. And yet is now sat quite happily on the sofa watching Octonauts.

20. Birthdays, Chicken Pox and children. You just can’t predict them.

Filed Under: actual happy times, assvice, birthday, illness, Isaac, Just...everything., MAKE IT STOP, Mutha-Hood, neurosis, parenting, photos, twitter, Ultimate Stresssss, wtf

Pox Watch Day 2 – Chicken Pox Is Bullshit

January 29, 2012 By mocha beanie mummy 4 Comments

OOOMMMMMGGGGGGG MAKE IT STOP NOW PLEASE.

Isaac does not scratch the spots. At all. AT. ALL.

He doesn’t have ginormous blisters (because let’s face it – there’s always someone who’s had bigger blisters.), he just seems to have shit loads of them. A major rash in his pants (I really don’t want to be around when that blisters) and a delightful smattering from the top of his head to his shoulders. With some escapees on his torso. And plenty in his ears. And some on his eyelids. The photo I posted before is NOTHING compared to how it looks now.

And yet, he just won’t scratch them. I’m bloody impressed, that’s for sure. However, the boy is in pain. I’ve been putting small amounts of Dream Cream on him, which has been working a treat, but now there are so many spots, I suspect he feels like his skin is on fire. Especially as every so often, he suddenly yelps out in pain and bursts into (increasingly) inconsolable tears. I knew what I had to do next, and I confess I’d been saving this, thinking it would be the ultimate treat.

Porridge bath. Ahhhhhhhh bliss.

I ran it cooler than normal, dumped large handfuls of Dream Cream and oats into a muslin cloth, tied it all up and attached it to the tap as the water ran. Quite possibly one of the most luxurious baths I’d ever seen any 2.5 year old ever have. On stripping him down and showing him the lovely bath, all for himself, he started crying. Hard.

You would think I had threatened to dump him in a vat of toxic acidic sludge, and there was no convincing him that this was actually the exact opposite.

It took myself and D to get him in the bath. Sweet Lord.

After maybe 10 minutes of cajoling (and more crying) he finally sat down.

Another 5 minutes later he stopped crying.

10 minutes later, he was out again (after even more tears).

I’ll be honest, it was a bath from hell. Which is a shame, because this kid adores water, and will often pitch a fit when it’s time to get out the bath.

All day he’s understandably been ratty as hell, and we’ve repeatedly smothered him in creams and kept him doped up on Calpol and Calprofen. There’s no way in hell we’re going to try another bath just yet.

The fact is, we are at the point where there is nothing more can do. I’ve just spent the last 30 minutes cuddling him in my bed the dark, while he dozed on and off. He finally asked to go to his own bed, where he is now whimpering, crying and saying “ow” over and over again. So once again, we’ll go upstairs and cuddle him until he asks to be put back to bed. Wash, rinse, repeat.

The worst thing about this is that horrible feeling of a spectacular Parenting Fail. I am FULLY AWARE there is nothing else I can do. I have done all I can do. I’ve cuddled him until he’s pretty much told me to piss off and leave him alone, yet I’m there at the drop of a hat if he calls again. I’ve given him as many drugs as I dare without officially becoming his dealer. I’ve plastered him in soothing creams, from the very top of his head right down to his toes. I’ve cuddled him some more. I’ve plastered on more cream, at his request.

And I am losing my fucking marbles, because now I have to figure out how to deal with the helpless parenting bull shit feeling.

Filed Under: assvice, illness, Isaac, MAKE IT STOP, parenting