Poo, sticks, fircones and clothes pegs

Thursday was a complete write off due to the events on Wednesday night.  I don’t really remember much of what happened.  I do know I got some sleep and felt very nauseous.  And O settled very well in the evening and overnight.

Then we slam into Friday, which for me began at 6.30 when O got up for his feed.  I was still in the feed/wind/change cycle when The Toddler came in and I knew there was no chance I would be going back to sleep.

I got up, got her dressed and gave her a minimal breakfast to stop her stealing my food.  No time to shower as I figured I would do that later.  After my morning nap perhaps.  OH took her to the childminder and I plan my morning.  Well, I say plan.  My days mostly consist of trying to get O settled, napping and maybe blogging.  I had a friend coming over at 1ish to chat and relieve me so I could get some no worry sleep and I didn’t have to think too much about what we would have for dinner or rush to make it as she would be eating at the childminders.


At 10:10 I get a phonecall from the Childminder.  This is NEVER a good thing.

Childminder: I know OH said that she’s better but it’s falling out of her again.

Me: SERIOUSLY?! *sigh*

WTF? Thursday she showed no signs of being ill at all (ok, so we weren’t really awake for a lot of it, but still!) and now this again? Rules are rules though and the Childminder is totally within her rights and contract to send The Toddler home if she feels she is unwell.

Because the offending nappy contained a vile green drippy liquid (it did come home with me but I didn’t look.  In fact, because of the refuse collector strike it’s still in our bin cupboard.  Now tell me how that can be hygienic?)

The Childminder suggested I took her to the Drs, especially as she had showed signs of being in pain when trying to pass whatever it was that was causing her to have diarrhoea for the second time in 3 days.  There were concerns that it may be more sinister than a tummy bug.  I’m pretty sure I will discuss the poo incidents at greater length in another post though so I’m not going to make you accidentally stumble into highly descriptive poo territory here.

I called the Drs surgery to get an urgent appointment for her.  Why do they always ask if it’s urgent? If you say yes, they always tell you they don’t have any available appointments anyway.  I managed to persuade them to give me an End of Surgery jobby where you sit and wait until the Dr is available.  I had to be at the clinic by 11.30 to begin my vigil.

So, I dash to pick madam up after packing sustenance, 15 nappies (I’m not kidding, when she has the poos, she has the POOS!), two extra pairs of trousers and a couple of carrier bags for her to sit on.  I once again expected her to be pale, grumpy and lethargic when I got there but instead she bounds up to me smiling.  She doesn’t look like an ill child. Nothing like an ill child in fact.  I don’t get it, but I was glad I had booked the Drs appointment as maybe they would be able to shed some light on her runny bottom.

I drove straight from the Childminders to the Drs, throwing caution to the wind by not putting any protection on my car seats and had to park half a mile from the surgery.  Well, not exactly half a mile away but far enough to piss me off.  It then took me at least 10 minutes to shoehorn everything into the worlds smallest shopping basket and unload two children, one of whom is repeatedly telling me we are going to see the Dr and actually looking quite excited about it.

When we get to the waiting room, I get the forms to register O as a patient (naughty mummy hadn’t had time to do this) and book her in.  There’s a lovely gent sat next to us who she manages to charm to the point where he gets her a pen when failmummy can’t find the crayons I try to carry everywhere.

We get called in and the Dr pokes and prods her belly which makes her cry, takes her temperature and concludes she’s possibly got a tummy bug but everything is normal.  Come back on Monday if she’s still running.

He then hands her a chocolate biscuit.

We go to the shop opposite and come home for lunch.  She consumes a pot of jelly with vigour.

The afternoon starts to creep by and she clearly does not want to be at home watching CBeebies while mummy is pinned to the sofa by a booby monster.  Said booby monster is annoyed because by making him wait for his lunchtime feed (the Dr called her in right as I was getting him out to latch!) and I was starting to go a bit crazy.  After speaking to mum who couldn’t leave work, I decided to take them out for a walk.  Doesn’t matter where.  Just get them out of the house and doing something.

Obviously, before going anywhere, we have to complete the going out routine, which I will one day tell you all about.  However, it’s enough right to now to just know it takes about an hour with me and two from almost ready.  Including other people and from scratch it takes far far longer.

We set off and she’s starts out in the pushchair but she’s so restless I decide to try and get her to burn off some excess energy by walking.  Cue another “Thing I Have No Idea How We are Going To Do” and I put her reins on.  I find that I can cope quite well between her on reins and steering the Phil & Teds.  This is a good thing.

She finds a stick on the ground.  How many mummies let their kids play with sticks now?  Are we too scared to let our children pick these things up? Are germs now more dangerous than when we were kids and would make mud pies and literally eat worms?

She keeps the stick.  The stick is good.  She also partners it with a twig.  She walks along using the stick as a sort of walking crutch and is twiddling the twig round her fingers when she finds another treasure –

A FIRCONE!! And another one and another one and another one and another one! In fact, there are loads of them.  We are in fircone kingdom and she is Queen.  Fircones are MUCH better than sticks and very soon I have to encourage her to pick the best of her small hoard to take home to show Daddy.  She reminds me that Daddy is at work and we pick out the two most beautifully perfect fircones for him.

We then admire the wildlife we spot down the path – the bees, the wasps and the lady walking the small yappy dog.  She didn’t know that I was heading to the park.  A secret park that had more than just a slide. It has seesaws and a swing.

We spent some time playing at the park until all the kids came out of the local school then she went back in the pushchair, we came home and she, thankfully, slept.

Daddy came home, we had dinner and he went to the shop.  he came back with a present for me.  Clothes pegs.

Now, sticks were good, Fircones were better, but 24..yes TWENTY FOUR plastic clothes pegs? yeah right Mummy, you’re never having these. She has a thing for clothes pegs. She calls them “snap snaps”.

She still has half of them in her shopping bag.


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