Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Lock Down

So it's been over a month since my last post. I guess that's the thing about writing about having a demanding toddler... there's not a lot of down time to write about it. Total first world problem. I'm sure the Ugandan mother who just schlepped two buckets of dirty water 20 kms to her starving children is really feeling for me...
ANYWAYS! The last week has been a teeny bit tedious due to the fact that Miss Frannie has had a "non specific virus" which pretty much only consists of a complete body rash. Other than that, she has been fine and running around like a crazy person, but understandably she is still deemed unfit for child care. 
So... she conveniently kicked this rash thing into high gear on Saturday because that was the day I was due to catch up with my dearest friend Annie... Yes, she is also an Annie and I will hereby refer to her as "Tough Annie", because when little Annie was born we decided that sounded better than "Big Annie", because that kind of sounds like a large female prison inmate. Anyways, obviously because Tough Annie was going to be in Adelaide for only a few days, Frannie, whether consciously or not, brought it upon herself to immediately halt my plans of being "a people" as the honest toddler would say, for a short time (ie.having pleasant adult social interaction). Meanwhile, just to rub salt into the wound, Sash, ie. dad, was in Melbourne seeing his favourite band in the world. So I only got to see my dear friend for a few hours on the Saturday, with kidlets accompanying, which of course results in a lot of half finished sentences and interrupted conversation interjected with "stop it please", "mummy's talking Annie" and "in a minute darling" and the feeling later that day that you kind of remember seeing your friend but you can't be completely sure.
We spent a good deal of time in the doctors surgery, which is always a mad cap adventure and always includes Annie lying on the stained carpet that god knows how many people have vomited/urinated/bled on. (P.S She did a wee on it on visit 1, requiring the poor, grossed out receptionist to cover it with "the trusty vomit/pee sand"). By the fourtieth "Annie, please get up, the carpet is yucky", you give up and concede that this festy little human is probably "building up her immunity" by rolling around on this germ laden floor. BTW future prospective parents, I don't know at what age you stop washing the dummy every time it falls or using a blanket to line the shopping trolley etc, but at some point all is forgiven with the phrase "building up their immunity". It's probably around the time they eat their first millipede, which for Annie was 12 months.
There were a number of toddler fueled incidences on days 2-5 including a stand up screaming bath, a run around the airport arrivals lounge wearing only a nappy (and covered head to toe in a rash-people in airports love that shit) whilst waiting for daddy to return home, improvisational texta drawing on floorboards and a sneaky Zinc Curash cream free for all which saw the kitchen thoroughly painted whist I was in the shower (how dare I bathe).
After 3 more visits to the doctor we finally got clearance to go back to child care today, which kind of feels like Christmas. I've only missed 3 days of work (for which I don't get paid, being a relief teacher) and 2 social outings with one of my closest friends in the world who I only see 3 or 4 times a year, but that's okay, I'm not bitter (eye twitch). No, to be honest I am probably more relieved that besides the rash, little Frannie wasn't actually ill with the virus. As any parent will tell you, there is nothing more awful than seeing your little people unwell. So I am grateful for that. Sure we had a few moments which had mummy tearfully reevaluating her life choices and daddy sitting outside, desperately inhaling his cigarette and starring into space with that "I wonder what would happen if I just got in my car and drove to Melbourne" look on his face, but we made it through 5 days of lock down and the little lady is free to go back and join the 15 other little maniacs she hangs out with 3 days a week.
Sigh. Peace.

Mid strip at the airport. Impromptu nap on a tutu.

Blotchy but cheery.

1 comment:

  1. Do we have the same child? Thanks for this blog, it's like a funny version of a mirror on my own life.