This has been a week where I’ve been “extreme” mothering! After spending the majority of the previous week snowed in at home due to the crazy weather, we were so relieved to get the kids outside last Sunday. Normality (or as close as for us Stranges) had resumed! Little did we know that the following week would be spent cleaning vomit off the rug, soothing hours and hours of crying, rubbing cream into spots and not sleeping for 2 solid nights. At. All. Oh, and throw into the mix that we both ended up ill too.
So the week started with the rug being covered in vomit. The really stinky kind which requires an immediate hose down in the bath for the child, a complete change of clothes for me and a rug may never the be same again. The poor wee man was quiet and lethargic but cuddles seemed to be doing the trick. I could handle that. I had this sorted.
Moving onto bedtime baths, I noticed a blister on Penny’s belly. Had I nipped her wee skin when I put her in the car seat? Then I looked again…hmm, that looks like… oh shit, yeah that’s definitely chickenpox. Her back was already covered. She didn’t seem too bothered so I hoped for the best and she slept like normal. Wednesday arrived and it really kicked in. She was covered from her scalp, all the way down to her feet. By now, she wasn’t feeling too great and I soothed her with baths and cream. I held her as she cried and really felt her pain. Alongside this, Louis cried and cried and cried. For hours. He cried all morning, had a nap and cried for another few hours in the afternoon.
This is when it’s at it’s hardest. When both kids need their mummy and I’ve got them on my own while their dad is at work. It’s draining. I feel crap for them and want to make it better. I decided to spend the night with Penny on the sofa-bed. She couldn’t sleep. She wriggled, she cried, she wanted me to rub her sores, she needed cuddles. She watched Puffin Rock. Oh, we watched an awfy lot of Puffin Rock, which considering there are only two series, is a hell of a lot of repetition. I actually like it, but def need a break for a while! Thankfully we avoided Peppa Pig as I can’t stand the morals of that show! It seriously grates on my nerves! Penny recites the Gruffalo’s Child book so we’re now great friends with the big, bad mouse. We have the “GruffaFro” and the “GruffaHo” cats aka Frodo and Homer, who also go under the aliases as the big, bad cats. We re-enacted the book with her toys. I said Peppa failed her audition as the Gruffalo’s Child, however, the director overruled my decision and the pig was given the role. She was atrocious… obviously. Have I mentioned that I’m not a fan?
Louis had been fine until suppertime. I saw the gag, I placed a bowl in front of him which he whipped away as he barfed all over the floor! I caught the rest and watched in horror as the bowl filled to the brim. It was all over me again. My freshly bathed child was covered. He was on my knee. The door was closed and I had to manoeuvre the bowl of dread and him. I couldn’t open the door with both in my arms. The contents slopped onto the floor. The child became more covered in vomit. I yelled out in disgust and dismay. Finally, I got it open and discarded the contents without further mishap. Meanwhile, Penny watched on while continuing to eat her supper, ah to be young and care-free!
Night two was as bad as the first, though I think I got a glorious hour between 10-11pm. It’s funny how you obsess with the hours of sleep when you’re not getting any! By this point, I couldn’t rest even when she did as all I could think about was how sick I felt! It reminded me of my morning sickness, it was dreadful. Made worse by the wee one’s constant needs of drinks, toilet, pains and wriggling. Daddy was the same. We both felt awful.
My hypnobirthing breathing techniques have come in very handy this week on a number of occasions I can tell ya! A lot of mindfulness has been required too.
My lovely parents came to the rescue on day 3 with food supplies and medicine. They wore face masks (they didn’t) but we were so grateful to them for coming. We finally saw a glimmer of light. The kids were perking up, the spots were crusting over and the feelings of nausea were gradually reseeding. The last few nights have been much better. Though, I’ve still been up since 4.30am as Louis has decided he won’t sleep. (there’s that time obsession again!) But that’s being a mum. Always on call, I sometimes need to physically drag myself out of bed but I do it. I’m not always calm, sometimes I cry, sometimes I’m grumpy but always I love them and I’m always there to rub those spots, clean that vomit, wipe those tears and cuddle, kiss and tell them how much I love them.
I wrote this post with the intention of posting it on Mother’s Day, however, I ended up falling asleep with my girl! My fav part of the day was when she turned around to me and said “Happy Mother’s Day, mummy”, out of the blue. Aw, I thought, how sweet!! Then she told me to go away, threw a box of rice crispies all over the floor and chucked the cat’s toy mouse down the toilet. Kids eh!
I hope all you mums out there were reminded of how special you are to your wee (or not so wee) people. A special thanks to my mum for always being there for us, we love you lots!