Feeling Sorry for Myself

Why can't a cold just be a cold?
I started feeling ill a week ago. Runny nose, sore throat, the symptoms of a fairly standard cold. I remembered with relief that as Daniel has weaned himself - just shy of a year old so much smugness for lasting that long - I can take as much sudafed and painkillers as I jolly well like. Hooray! No more martyr suffering!
It gave me insomnia! I made sure I hadn't got the caffeinated pills, just decongestant only, but a pill at bedtime meant no sleep! Lying there, feeling exhausted, but sleep was not there. For two nights I endured and then went to unmedicated nights. I slept, but I suspect I snored.
We're all running with it now. There's nothing that spoils a handsome boys face as a long yellow candle of snot hanging out, but like King Canute, I cannot fight the tide.
I thought I was on the mend. After all, it's not that bad a cold and it's been a week. The runny thickened up and started to ease....
Until last night. Woke up feeling like someone had skewered me through the ear with a sharp knife dipped in chilli oil. Made the mistake of rubbing my ear... I wonder if that's what a tazer strike feels like? The intensity of the pain!
Today my ear feels odd, less painful but it's giving me an odd echo, as if what I'm hearing on that side is happening a tiny fraction later than the other. My clearing nasal passages have refilled with truly vile yellow muck that mostly seems to be leeching in from my ear.
It's the one day of the week Joseph has no preschool or toddler group. Sometimes I like to get out with him, run a bit of his spare energy off in the great outdoors.
The forecast was for rain and more rain. That's what we have, with a helping of bright sunny patches to torment us, showing us the lovely day we could have had if the clouds would only push off.
We've been stuck in all day and the frustration is showing. The problem is, all the local indoor stuff we could go to - Joseph hates. He hates sift play, especially without a friend. To be honest, the way my ear feels today I don't think I'd enjoy the noise of soft play, but I'd happily suffer if it was what Joseph wanted to do. He hates most shops and isn't old enough to enjoy the inside bits of the local National Trust stuff.
It has culminated in me flopping on the sofa a lot - my head feels like porridge - and Joseph 'playing' with Daniel which as far as I can tell means him putting stuff on Daniels head and trying to push him around. Daniel has been alternately pulling all the shoes off the shoe rack (didn't bother putting them back last time), attempting to escape into the garden when it's been sunny enough to open the back door and making a grab for our box of stationary to try and eat the paperclips.
I need to rest, ideally just drink lots of tea and watch some pointless telly to take my mind off how awful I feel. Instead I have had to negotiate a cheese sandwich (stalemate) and listen to the relative merits of pull back tractor verses a toy aeroplane. Which is better for beating 'baddies'? Joseph's latest obsession - beating baddies.
We had a whole conversation about death this morning thanks to that. He wanted to know how long it would take to get better from being killed.

But I gave you Magic Stars!

Why did I not just go to the supermarket yesterday? Why didn't I just get up and go out while everyone else was mucking about?
I just fancied a slow bank holiday morning. I paid for that laziness today.
I don't usually take Joseph to the supermarket any more. Pain in the neck? That isn't the half of it. By the time we get to the freezer section I don't think there would be a single person in the shop who would think me unjustified in ramming him in one of the freezers, shutting the door and just walking away.
Today was no exception.
Was hoping to bribe him a bit - a treat from the bakery for good behaviour, let him have a few bits of 'his own shopping' and his own bag to pack at the tills. It's worked before.
Not today.
He  didn't want to get in the car, especially when he found out where we were going. Note to self - don't tell him next time.
He wouldn't get out of the car when we got there. I had to drag him out and he started whinging.
A few aisles in he started asking for one of his toys. I hadn't got a toy for him, he causes nothing but trouble when I let him bring a car, running it up and down every available surface and across fresh food as well if I can't stop him in time. He pays precious little attention to where he's walking at the best of times, when he's got a toy car he's a total liability. That's not to mention the inevitable fallout when he forgets, puts the wretched thing down and forgets where. One time someone went home with a generic looking blue matchbox car in their bananas. He said that's where it was put... but we never saw it again.
I digress. We had no toy car with us. He wouldn't take that for an answer and the whinge started. Boy can that boy whinge! If it were an Olympic sport....
I mentioned that if he stopped being so silly and calmed down then there might be a treat from the bakery in the offing. Those doughnuts he likes with the icing and the pink sprinkles?
He quietened down at last, but it did not last.
Why?
Someone came along with a trolley clearly as oblivious to their immediate surroundings as he was and he would have been squashed if I hadn't pulled him out of their way pretty sharpish.
What does he do?
Scream his head off, that's what.
Apparently I had 'hurt him'. Really? I thought I was saving him from getting hurt. He said I had hurt his finger. I hadn't touched his finger, I had grasped him by the shoulders and not even that firmly. In the end I concluded that he must have made a grab for my trolley just at the moment I was moving him from harms way and perhaps caught his finger.
It wasn't hurt at all - not even a little mark, but it didn't stop the massive tantrum from welling up. Tears, screams.....
My patience was tissue paper thin by this point. I warned him - calm down or no bakery treat.
He did not calm down and the crying just turned back to the constant flow of whinge about not wanting to be in the shop and wanting to go home.
I told him I'd had enough, no bakery treat for him. He didn't calm down.

I paid, left the shop and then had to manhandle him into the car as he had suddenly lost the ability to do it himself. Apparently I was being very unfair. And I just thought he wanted to get home!

We walked to preschool and I just kept my head down to get there quickly. Dropped him off, got home, made Daniel some lunch and unpacked the shopping, enjoying the whinge free house. Daniel went to sleep for his nap and.... quiet!
Shame it was only going to be for an hour, but I made the most of it nonetheless.

Time to pick up Mr Terror.

The whinge started almost from the get go.
It was impossible for him to carry all his pictures he had done. He could not manage to get his arms in his coat. He could not pick up his own lunch box. He put the pictures down right in the middle of the corridor for no good reason and then whinged when they inevitably got stepped on.
Teeth starting to grind....

We have a Tuesday ritual of stopping off at a little cafe near the preschool. I was in half a mind not to bother, but I fancied a coffee.
Bought Joseph his usual babachino and a latte for me. I got him some magic stars - didn't think I could go wrong with those - and some little wafers to share with Daniel and to dip in my coffee.
Joseph wants the wafers. Apparently I 'have' to share with him. I ask if he's planning on sharing the magic stars.
No.
Then he can't have a wafer.
This, I am told, is unfair.
I have grown rather hard hearted by now and I am not bothered by it being apparently unfair and Daniel and I enjoy the wafers.  Never mind that I've had to physically manhandle him into a chair as he's decided he wants one of the tall chairs by the window. We can't sit at those, they're too high to sit with a buggy next to them.
He wont finish his drink. It's too chocolatey. He ate all the flipping magic stars though, surely they're even more chocolatey? Guess I'll have to start asking them to leave the chocolate off the babachino again.
He asks for more food, as he's very hungry, I ask if he ate all his lunch at preschool and I am told that yes he did, his lunch box is totally empty. I ask if this is true and am told 'I would not lie to you Mummy.'
He was lying, he barely touched his lunch again. I refuse to buy more treats, he was lucky he got the magic stars.
We walk home and he's a total pain the whole way, running ahead and then dawdling and generally getting in everyones way.
We get home where he causes nothing but trouble, eats his lunch leftovers in seconds flat (why didn't he do that at lunch time) and caps it all off by shoving Daniel hard head first into the coffee table.

He is now upstairs sulking at how unfair it is he has been punished.
All I can think is that I bought him magic stars and all he's done is lie to my face and try and hurt his brother.
He's not coming down till Andy gets home.

Straight up, no milk or sugar

It takes a while to settle Daniel off to sleep sometimes. The trick though, is not in getting him to sleep for his nap, but keeping him there.
It took half an hour today, or thereabouts. I wasn't paying too much attention.
When I had judged it finally safe, I got up to go get a cup of tea. Jiggling for that length of time is thirsty work.
Just as I had got far enough away to not get back quickly enough, the phone rang. Well ain't that typical. I don't get many calls in the landline and they always happen when Daniel is napping.
It was at least a proper phone call and not some automated voice going on about PPI I've never bought or an accident I've never had.
It disturbed Daniel, so back to the jiggling. Daniel had just started going back to sleep when Joseph decided that quiet play in his room was all very well and good, but noisy play out on the landing was better.
Had a word with him - play quiet and you can watch that dreadful programme with the Lego ninjas later. Spinjitsu? Good grief.
Daniel went back to sleep with a bit of persuasion. What am I going to do when he gets to big for his baby car seat? What will I jiggle him in then? We can't use his bouncy chair any more, when you sit him in it it just makes a sort of groaning sound, like over stressed metal and then just... sags. He's too heavy to bounce.
Asleep at last! Can I have that cup if tea now? Get up, head to kitchen and trip noisily over the bumbo tray....
Jiggle jiggle jiggle....

To add insult to repetitive strain injury...
I get my cup of tea, have a look through Netflix for something to watch, pick something that looks good.
Only to discover it's got Nicholas Cage in it. Doing a fake British accent no less. Arrrrrgh!

Daniel is not the only fruit

The worst sick I ever had to clear up was a bowl of Shreddies Joseph had for breakfast. They go into little flaky bits and it's hard to get them all. It was made all the worse by the fact he'd has a glass of strawberry Nesquik to wash them down. The stench from that was truly vile.

Daniel had a good nights sleep last night, goodness knows how! He had a good dinner, a nice bottle of milk and settled down to sleep with only a brief bit of grizzle and you could tell his heart wasn't in it. We checked on the boys a little bit later. Joseph, for once, had been the one to not settle off quickly and when he finally went quiet we had to go up and adjust his duvet and turn his light off. When he doesn't go to sleep quickly he doesn't get upset, he just keeps playing and it can get quite loud. We usually let it slide, but he does keep the light on.
Daniels cot is on the other side of our bed and so as to not risk disturbing him we didn't go right in, just opened the door and listened to his regular breathing.

When I went to bed I pretty much did the same thing. I was more concerned with creeping about in the dark and not disturbing him than anything else.
I can only assume it must have happened a bit before I went to bed, given that if it had happened later he would have woken me. I assume. I don't know. You'd think I'd have noticed the smell.

Anyway, at some point in the night he was sick. The food didn't look very digested so my estimate is earlier rather than later but who knows. He did it silently and probably in his sleep. All I know is that he woke at half past six - much later than usual - and when I went to pick him up he felt moist. I initially thought he'd dribbled more than usual but quickly came to the correct conclusion. On went the light and there he was lying in an orange halo spotted by small lumps of beef mince from the bolognaise we'd eaten the night before.
Good grief it stank. His clothes were coated in orange and his hair made him look like a beef obsessed punk. Why is sick so much worse to deal with than poop? I can handle any number of stench laden nappies, even ones that have had a rotavirus incident in them and leaked under the strain. I can deal with that, and whilst I will bat an eyelid I won't be tempted to add my own chunder to the mix. I nearly did this morning.
I bathed him and scraped beef off him whilst Andy dealt with the cot. It's going to take a lot of febreeze to finally shift the smell if rancid tomato and beef from there, believe me.
In a final act of gross, when I had got him out of the bath I pulled up the plastic bath mat and all the lumps of beef mince I had washed off had collected underneath. Ick.

Did you know that a standard jar of baby food that has carrot, tomato or sweet potato as an ingredient is likely to contain 500% of a babies RDA of beta-carotene? No wonder it's going to be a while before his fake tan fades. Thankfully carotinisis, as it's known, is harmless. Besides, soon it won't notice as all his clothes will be heavily stained with orange from all the sick. He brought back some of his lunch today, again when I wasn't looking.
He was in his playpen, not complaining too much for once. I picked him up, settled him in his car seat for a nap and wondered why I could still smell sick on him. That's when I noticed the orange stain down his arm and the puddle in the play pen.
He didn't sleep for long and has been quite grumpy all afternoon. I don't know if it's a bug or another bout of reflux. All I want to know is - why is baby food orange and their clothes usually white or very pale colours? Why is it the only washing powder that can get out the stains the fully biological stuff that we're all allergic to?
Argh. And again I say Argh.

Orange is the new Daniel

Several days clear of excessive multivitamins and his skin still has something of a David Dickinson glow to it. I'm sure its lessening, but I'm keeping an eye on it. I'll take another photograph in a few days and do a comparison.
It also occurred to me that a great many products nowadays have added vitamins and minerals, making the need for additional supplements even more redundant. I had a look.
A normal loaf of sliced bread contains added thiamin B1, Calcium, Niacin B3 and Iron. Daniels breakfast cereal has added Vitamin C, Niacin, Vitamin E, Pantothenic acid, Vitamin B, Thiamin, Vitamin A, Folic acid, Vitamin D and Biotin.
I don't know what pantothenic acid is, but it sounds like it might cause overexcitability and the sudden desire to throw a foam pie at someone and shout 'It's behind you!'.
Joseph's cereal has added vitamins C, D, B2, B6, B3, Folic acid, Calcium, Iron and the Pantothenic acid again.
Daniels baby biscuits have even more, calcium, zinc and a whole alphabet of vitamins including K which I had assumed was unnecessary as they're given a special booster for that right after birth and that should be all they need. His fruit pots have vitamin C added.
Joseph's nesquik has vitamin D added and some others too. Never mind giving them a supplement, I'm more worried they're overdosing!
You've got to wonder how anyone can end up vitamin deficient in this day and age!

The future is beta-carotene

Every time I have spoken to a health visitor it has been suggested to me that the boys should be on vitamin supplements. I have, up till now, ignored this advice. Joseph eats a varied diet and isn't unhealthy, it's actually quite hard to be vitamin deficient in this day and age.
Last time I spoke to a health visitor they got quite insistent. Daniel hadn't gained weight over Christmas due to bronchiolitis and although he had gained since, he hadn't caught back up. I wasn't too worried, but the health visitor expresses polite concern.
Feed him more high fat food - no fromage frais, only full fat yogurt. Mix some cream into his mashed potato.
His diet is too healthy! Also was told rather emphatically that he NEEDS to be on a supplement as he doesn't drink a lot of formula.
I bowed to pressure. Kids vitamins at boots were on a three-for-two offer so I got some chewy ones for Joseph and a bottle of murky liquid for Daniel. Natural orange flavour it said. It smelt like toilet cleaner.
He didn't like them and he didn't like full fat yogurt either. You can't get individual kids yogurts in full fat, only fromage frais which I think is odd as the official advice is full fat only till they're quite old.
I hit on a good wheeze, if I mixed the vitamins in with the yogurt then he'd happily eat both. Win win!

His appetite is pretty good now. He likes jars of baby food and he loves quite a few different finger foods. His favourites are roast parsnip and roast sweet potato. He's quite fond of cheerios and dried fruit too. Cheerios have an annoying habit of getting everywhere.
A few days ago I looked at Daniel and wondered if he might be a touch jaundiced. I was worried, he was too old for baby jaundice and if I was right then... hmmmm.
His eyes were not showing any yellow and he looked like he had a slight suntan. It being February a suntan is not possible.

On closer inspection I realised he wasn't going yellow but orange. Orange? Why would he be orange, what causes that?
It occurred to me that there's a lot of carrot in his diet. All bought baby food had carrot in it and he likes eating sweet potato. He's also had some small amounts of red meat in his diet which is rich in vitamin A, not to mention he's decided that he does want his evening formula after all which is fortified.
Add to that liquid vitamins... the boy is overdosing on vitamin A - and who knows how many others - and the spare beta-carotene is building up in his skin.
No more liquid vitamins. I've taken a picture of him on my phone of him holding my hand and it's pretty clear he's got an odd cast to his skin tone. Next time I'm bothered by someone telling me he needs extra vitamins I will show it too them.

Why I Love my High-Speed Broadband

Fringe, House, Grimm, Dead Like Me, Andromeda, Suits, White Collar, Lie to Me, Continuum....
Some of the many series I have worked my way through on Netflix recently, nearly all over night. Daniel is a somewhat reluctant sleeper and I have needed entertainment. First it was to get me through the night feeds. There were four to begin with, but they did slowly drop down to two then one and then....
Five am. That seems to be his favourite time of day. It might sound strange, but 5am is something of a relief. After months of middle of the night wake ups for feeds and then struggling to get back to sleep again, the chance to sleep through till 5 does indeed feel good.
He got better at sleeping. Then he got worse. Apparently it's quite common for children to hit nine months of age and to have a bit of a wobble when it comes to sleeping through.
I made some mistakes with Daniel. I regularly let him fall asleep after a feed and that left me with a baby who would only sleep after a feed. This was difficult, but not as hard as discovering that even that didn't work any more. During the day he won't sleep in his cot. I can put him down 'drowsy but awake' as all advice says and he will not stay drowsy for long. He will scream. I've even given up getting him to sleep then transferring him to his cot as he'd inevitably wake up straight away. This was especially galling as I now have to spend quite a while jiggling him to get him to sleep. Half an hour is about right.
Overnight is disastrous. He won't feed, even if he does it does no good. He doesn't want a cuddle. He wants to be jiggled and at 3am it takes a long old time to knock him back to sleep again.
Things got bad. We ended up with a night where he woke up at 11pm, got taken downstairs and spent the whole night in his bouncy chair bring regularly jiggled every time he grumbled.
This is untenable. Night after night of this is a one-way ticket to a psych ward due to lack of sleep induced psychosis.
We brought the bouncy chair upstairs. Same problem, but it is a bit less cold in the bedroom.
So what do we do? Jiggling to sleep is getting harder and he's getting to big for the bouncy chair. Netflix has many things to watch but I've been through so many series I'm starting to run our of ideas to entertain myself at night or in the early hours. I'm watching a lot of films now, some good and some bad.

Every one I talk to says the same thing: -

Leave him to scream.

For the last two nights I have got up, given him a quick cuddle and put him straight back. Then I lie there listening to him scream. Experience tells me there's nothing I can do, nothing helps. My emotions tell me I'm being cruel. Whatever I do, I'm sure not getting enough sleep.

Contained

I bought a baby prison cell today.
Sorry, I mean play pen.
I've got to take it back tomorrow. It's a multi functional thing, it can be a hexagon or a square or can be unfolded and fixed to the wall as a safety partition or stair gate. Except that the wall fixings are missing. I phoned up and they said to bring the old one back and they'd give me a new one.
Can't I just have the fixings out of the new one?
No.
But it's really heavy! I've got two children to manage!
Messing about aside, we'll be all set up tomorrow. Daniel is getting mobile and he's causing all sorts of trouble. He has a funny sort of crawl, he paddles away with his hands, trying to get some traction on the hard floor. Meanwhile his left leg, and only his left, wiggles about and pushes him forward a bit. He's already trying to pull everything down that he can so I need a safe place to put him when I'm having to get on with things and can't hold him.
Those who have read some blog posts will know Daniel is a calm, sanguine fellow who is happy to play and be happy where he's put.... No, wait I must be thinking of another baby. If he's not where he wants to be he's a purple faced, drool and snot covered screaming maniac.
Does he like the play pen?
No.
Have I grown a little hard hearted mostly due to him waking us up a lot recently?
Yes.
Is he going to be made to jolly well get used to being in there?
Yes.
Well, we'll see. I may well end up rejigging so he's just kept away from things he shouldn't get near like the stairs or the book case. It depends on just how loud the screaming gets.

Ooo Nasty

A group of mums of which I am a part have a little evening get together every now and again. We leave the men in charge of the kiddies and meet up with grand ideas of spiritual discussion and intelligent debate.
Ha ha! Of course we spend most of the time eating snacks and talking about the funny and disgusting things our lovely little ones have been up to.
As I prepared to leave the last time Andy pointed out that it was a good thing I was going to a mummies get together as they'd totally understand the crusted dribble on my shoulder. Ah the delights of small children! The things we put up with from babies and little ones - just because they are babies and little ones.
How many times has Daniel scored a direct hit during a nappy change? Rather a lot, although he's usually managed to get himself as well, not to mention the rug which will never be the same again. Luckily it was a cheap one from IKEA and we'll probably replace it soon. Perhaps. If we get round to it. On second thoughts, perhaps we'd better wait till he's reliably potty trained.
By the end of the day Daniel is usually quite well crusted in snot, dribble, left over food and whatever else he happens to have got near during the day. When Joseph was a baby I used to wonder why some women bathed their babies so often as he didn't seem to get that dirty. Daniel has educated me. Joseph wasn't one for being sick, Daniel wasn't one for keeping it down. It was the look of pride on his face as the cheesy white geyser poured out of him.
Before weaning Daniel used to get a sticky grey coating over him by the end of the day. If we didn't bathe him, and I confess I wasn't always energetic to manage it, he would get a strange dark grey slime accumulating in the folds of his chins.
If he's sick now then it's instant bath time. Baby food looks much the same coming back as it does going down. It's the carrot.
Daniel is starting to get to grips with feeding himself a few things now. This leads to a variety of odd things. Food finds itself wedged and stuck in all sorts of places, but I found cheerios in our bed yesterday and that was disappointing as they'd been long enough to go soft. We found cheerios on the floor this morning too, which wasn't too odd except we weren't at home at the time.
Daniel likes dried fruit a lot too. It sticks to him just like the cheerios do and falls off in a similar manner. However, if you tread on a cheerio all you get is a bit of dust and perhaps a small start from the crunch. If you step on a sultana you get a sticky mess on the floor and your foot. There's nothing like small children for producing sticky messes.

Melba Toast

Ah weaning and all its many delights!
I've sniffed around the idea of baby lead weaning and come to the conclusion that it's all very well if your baby is a well coordinated and compliant little person. If they're a scamp of the highest order with an inbuilt ability to know if something is food or not and then reject it out of hand - then you're in for trouble.
Joseph didn't want to lead the weaning. He would describe himself as 'energy efficient' - that's lazy to the rest of us. He always preferred to have puree shoveled in to his mouth by someone else and would still now if we gave him the chance. Daniel likes pureed food, fruity flavours especially. He is not remotely interested in feeding himself unless it's a biscuit and I'm not planning on giving him many of those as even the ones specifically for babies seem to have a lot of sugar.
I had a look on a baby lead weaning website a while ago and it suggested egg noodles were a good thing to try as they're soft to chew and easy to get hold of. Joseph decorated himself in them but wouldn't eat them and Daniel cried. I tried soft bread with a little butter - Joseph ate a little and squished the rest, Daniel cried. Cheese - Joseph doesn't like eating cheese even now and Daniel cried. If he has the merest suggestion I might be expecting him to feed himself he cries and then will often try and get rid of the food. Some things he will eat happily off the spoon, but will never have a go himself unless he knows it's very sweet.
Well, there is one exception. At Christmas dinner I like to push the boat and pull all of the stops very much out. I make an effort with food that I would not have the time or inclination for the rest of the year. We had a starter, smoked mackerel pâté served on Melba toast. It went down pretty well, even the children ate some of the pâté which impressed me. Daniel got given a bit of Melba toast to play with as he'd had his lunch of mixed mush and needed to be kept entertained as we ate.
He ate the Melba toast. None of his teeth had broken properly, but he still ate it. He then managed to hoover up all of the broken bits of toast we hadn't thought fit to serve. One filled up baby! He wasn't too keen the following day, but that's when the bronchiolitis was kicking in and what little he was eating ended up coming back.
After another week of failed self feeding attempts I opened up an unused pack of Melba toast from Christmas and gave him a bit to stop him crying while I sorted the dishwasher out and made his tea. When I say 'made his tea' I mean getting the half eaten jar of food from his lunch box.
He ate the Melba toast with some gusto, I only found a few dropped pieces adhering to his clothes later. It was when I was returning the lack to the cupboard that I noticed the nutritional traffic lights on the side, specifically the salt warning, resplendent in red, telling you nicely that you'd better not eat this product unless you really fancy a touch of high blood pressure.
Oh that's soooo brilliant! Put in a deep sarcastic tone here, oh yes. The only savoury food he's been prepared to feed himself I can't give him. Babies shouldn't eat much at all in the way of salt as it can damage their kidneys. That's just great. More sarcasm there.
Back to purees then. Sigh.

Go On, Treat Yourself

Joseph got a treat today. The pack said 'no artificial colours or preservatives'. Makes it sound almost healthy!

He was lucky to get it, I wanted to see some truly good behaviour before he could have a treat after what happened yesterday.
I was anticipating that Monday would be a hard day. Andy was back at work having had nearly two weeks off for Christmas and New Year. Joseph rather likes having his Daddy around and his happiness sometimes results in over exuberant bad behaviour. It's not as bad as his sulky and unhappy behaviour so I was preparing for the worst.
I was wrong - or so I thought. He was quiet-ish and well behaved and didn't really protest when I asked him to play upstairs quietly for a bit so I could settle Daniel off for a nap.
He was lulling me into a false sense of security of course. Keep Mummy happy, don't let her get suspicious that I'm planning the Great Sweet Heist.....

We keep a bag of skittles in his room on a high shelf for reward or bribery purposes. Mostly bribery. Joseph, having got a little bit better at eating his dinner, has had a bit of a growth spurt. He's also been using that little noggin for good effect.
I don't quite know how he managed to reach them as it happened during his quiet play time, I also don't know how he managed to get them down without making any noise as I wasn't aware of anything and Daniel slept well. I was unaware of his sweet gorging actions until Andy played with him in his room that evening and discovered the empty packet evidence.
So, no sweets. Nothing to bribe him with. He got dressed as usual this morning and then was rather sad when he didn't get his usual reward. I reminded him why and he was still sad.
But, having said that he was quite a good boy this morning. He chose what to have in his sandwich for preschool - cucumber. Usually he has cheese, but he wanted something different today. I was advised to let him make his own lunch as he'd be more likely to eat it that way. I experimented with this one lunch time at my Mums house. The net result was that all he had on his plate was a bun with nothing on it. Nothing at all, not even butter.

I was expecting him to come back with most of the lunch untouched as per usual and probably a warning about him not behaving well again.
I was wrong on both counts. No bad behaviour comments, and the only thing left in his lunch box was the small chocolate bar. Surprised, perhaps even a little shocked and very pleased we went to a café and he had a little treat.
No artificial colours or preservatives. Nothing to worry about except the massive amounts of sugar and fat you find in Milky Way Magic Stars.

A Never Ending Cycle

It drags on. We thought he was getting better but he's not. We saw the doctor, we treated with calpol AND calprofen and he got better, or so it seemed. His temperature dropped and he kept his food down so after nearly two days we decided to lower the medications.
Taking too much ibuprofen over too long a period is quite bad for you so we decided to drop the calprofen and see how he went.
It went wrong. We thought he was well so we went out for a bit, we thought we'd see the Christmas decorations at Basildon Park before they were packed up for the season. The problem was that the volunteers had packed up too, if not for the season at least for the day, so the house was shut. I can only assume that this was some sort of last minute problem as the website was seemed quite sure it was still open. It was bitterly cold, too cold for exploring the grounds and I wanted a cream tea. After a longish and slightly convoluted phone call we discovered that The Vyne was mostly open - including the café - so we headed there instead. They had cream teas and quite a few pretty Christmas trees so the disappointment that stung worse than the cold weather was mollified.
We made a mistake though. We left the calpol at home. It seemed not to matter, Daniel seemed well, he had eaten his breakfast and lunch without barfing up. Neither had been a big meal, but he was recovering.
After we got home Andy wondered if Daniel felt a little warm. I thought that as he'd been bundled up in a big coat he'd probably be a bit warm so I didn't worry. I kept not worrying until all of his dinner came flying back up at me like an orange tsunami.
Great. And he was quite warm, warm enough to be feverish. We gave him some calprofen and a bath and then a breastfeed. He was quite grumpy.
In the end Andy took him upstairs to bed and he has settled off for an early night quite quickly. He'd been crying and crying at me, squirming and wriggling and getting quite cross. If I only had a baby translator then it would have stated: -
Mother I am feeling a trifle out of sorts. I don't want anything else to eat or drink but I am quite tired so would you mind dreadfully shoving off and letting me sleep?

Broncho-thing

Daniel saw the doctor yesterday. We'd got to the point of desperation, his temperature was at 38°c and calpol seemed to be having no effect - a rare failure for the magic pink - and the effluvia of sick had become a grim constant. He was ashen faced, had grey circles under his eyes like big smudges of soot and had become quite lethargic.
The appointment was twenty past twelve and of course at about eleven Daniel decides that he will have a bit of a breast feed after all and actually he's feeling quite hungry so a good long feed.... which he kept down so by the time we got to the doctors he'd perked up and wasn't looking anything like so ill. Typical.
The doctor did take a good long look at my snot encrusted and slightly nasty smelling pink happy baby and decided that - gross alert - the vomiting was being caused by him swallowing mucus rather than letting it stream out the usual way. He also had a viral chest infection called broncholitis or bronchiolitis or broncho-something thing anyway. It's another childhood illness that we should be immune to by the time we're two. Joseph probably had it at some point too, but he never seemed to ever get properly ill.

Auto-correct is having a field day today. Bronx geometry is what it replaced broncho-something the first time. It then tried 'so etching'. It also tried 'author correct'. Yeah....

Daniel has a cough like a 40 a day smoker at the moment. It's horrible, it wakes him up in the night - and me for that matter. Few things are sadder sounding than a little baby hacking away. His face turns red and his little tongue pokes out and his eyes water. There are no medicines I can give that can help the cough although calpol and calprofen given alternately seem to have brought his temperature down at last.
I hope he sleeps tonight. I took the morning off today, just relaxing in bed with Netflix and cups of tea. Still had to feed Daniel a lot but he did sleep for a while and he spent some time with Andy so I almost got some sleep too. I'm still coughing away myself and the congestion in my ears is set like concrete. I'm sick of hearing everything like I'm underwater or like one fateful morning when I took my earplugs out and thought I'd gone deaf in one ear as half of the foam plug had remained behind. Thank goodness for needle nosed pliers!
I can't hear very clearly and if there's background noise I can't hear at all. I had a fright one night when I went to sleep on my right hand side leaving my worst affected ear upwards. I woke up and could not hear Daniel breathing so cue the panic. Daniel even when he's well is something of a noisy breather. As he's ill the noise has got quite striking. I thought it was something akin to someone trying to finish the last of a thick milkshake through too thin a straw. Andy thinks it's more like someone trying repeatedly to start a petrol motor chainsaw.

That's So Sick.

Whoever it was who went on about the innocence of babes clearly didn't have experience of what comes flowing out of them with depressing regularity.
Daniel is teething. Not a boy to do things by halves he is having two bottom teeth and four top teeth coming through all at the same time - at Christmas. Lovely.
Ah Joseph, my somewhat neglected older child whose delightful innocence and naivety reawakened my joy of Christmas from its coma of cynicism and who breezed through teething like it wasn't happening. He had a day or so of being a little out of sorts and lo and behold - two teeth! After that they popped up regularly and sometimes I'd look in his mouth and notice more had appeared as if by magic! No teething gel needed in our house!
Daniels started a week ago and he's still not done. The bottom tooth pierced the gum but is still no more than a few millimetres of stub and one of the top teeth has broken through too - but again, still pretty stubby.
He's always been quite an emotional chap. Where Joseph was happy to be put down or cuddled or left to bounce in his chair while I got on with stuff, Daniel is not and has never been so. Daniel has left me with whole days one after the other where I've accomplished literally nothing because whenever I've put him down he's screamed like he's being tortured. It all came down to whether I felt more guilty about the screaming or the neglected household chores.
Add the misery of teething to a baby already permanently on the edge then you might begin to realise how things have been for us.
Did I mention we've also been quite ill? Ever since Joseph started Pre school we've been inundated with colds and bugs and nasties. I'm suffering with what I believe to be my fifth cold in a row, but I'm not sure, they've rather run together so it's hard to tell. There may have been more.
Daniel is snotty too, the poor chap hasn't escaped the germ onslaught. He's tired as he's not been sleeping well, he's got a perma cold and lots of teeth on the way and the poor little mite is so overwhelmed  by it all he keeps being sick.
There seems no rhyme or reason to it, sometimes it's breakfast, sometimes lunch. Sometimes he'll keep his dinner down and sometimes not. Often his bottle of milk will want to revisit. Today I wondered if he might be weaning himself off me as he didn't seem to want to feed, so I gave him a bottle instead. As it turned out he was refusing to feed as he knew his tummy was upset and the bottle contents landed on the floor and all down my leg. Daniel escaped the flow, with the exception of his feet. This lead to an emergency rinse of his sock-ons as the other pair were still in a plastic bag having suffered a similar fate the previous day.
I have spent quite some time cleaning sick out of a v-tech crawl and learn ball with the aid of a cocktail stick. My rug has stains on it that probably won't shift and I had been hoping to avoid doing laundry over Christmas, but here we are. All the calpol and teething gel in the world aren't stopping the flow and every time he coughs or hiccups I get very nervous. Also, baby food looks identical coming back as it does going in. Odd.

All I wanted for Christmas was his his two front teeth

When Joseph teethed we hardly noticed. Well - we did notice, where before there were just pink gums, there were pearly whites and a little boy who quickly learned not to chew his fingers.
Daniel is really not the same baby. Well I obviously he's not the same baby as that would mean some sort of space time anomaly, but as they're closely related I had rather assumed they'd be rather similar. Physically they are, but personality? No, they're not remotely alike.
Joseph was a sanguine baby, Daniel is not. Joseph was happy to play on his play mat while I got on with household jobs. Daniel, even at nine months really isn't keen on being put down. He's clingy, but is also really rather cuddly and Joseph wasn't so much.
Daniel is having a rough ride with his teeth. He's nine months old and still gummy, but the gums got lumps in them a little while ago. Naively I assumed they'd pop through as fast as Joseph's did, but so far no. One of the bottom teeth has broken through, but it is still just a stubborn little stub poking out rather than a proper tooth.
When cuddling him yesterday he tipped his head back and I noticed clear lines in his upper gums showing his top front teeth are on the way. Poor chap, all four in the way at once, no wonder he's uncomfortable and he's still fighting off the tail end of a cold.
I sound calm. This is because after several nights of wrecked sleep Andy made me take a couple of nights on the sofa bed so I could catch up. Daniel behaved well on the first night for him, but not so well on the second.
As for last night? We all slept in the same room for once! Well, when I say slept I mean Daniel slept and Andy slept and I just plain didn't. I lay uncomfortably awake for nearly two hours, managed to doze for about four and then lay awake again. Aware that Daniel was doing well for once I decided it wasn't fair on Andy to be bothered by a sleepless person again I have decamped downstairs. Fringe is on Netflix, the sofa is comfy, the cat is asleep and I have a cuppa. Could be worse!

The Christmas Letter

Well it's been a good year in the Card household. After Andy's promotion to CEO we decided we needed a residence befitting his new status. Also we decided that Windsor wasn't quite the location for us, Belgravia is much nicer. We're also wondering if we should take the plunge and buy the holiday cottage in Cornwall, but now we think it might be better to look further afield, perhaps Tuscany.
The new house is just what we wanted. The extra reception rooms make life so much easier and in this house the pool is heated, much more pleasant! However we do miss the jacuzzi section in the pool in the old house so we'll probably have to get one fitted.
Of course we'll have to take on another maid, I'll be talking to the agency after Christmas as it's so hard to get anything done this time of year! It might be nearly Christmas, but some of us do have important things to do. I must have a word with them, the last pool cleaner was no good at all.
The boys now have a playroom each now so no more fights over who gets to play with the big train set as there's room for two now. At four years old Joseph is doing well at school, he's been bumped up again as he's really getting on so much faster than the children his own age. He's just finished reading Charles Dickens A Christmas Carol and I really must have a word with the teacher as it's far too simple a book for him. We've started on some basic calculus at home as the maths class is going to slowly for him. I'll probably have to make another 'donation' to the school to make sure he's being given what he needs, but that is the advantage of a good private school!
Daniel is now nine months old and is talking, only simple sentences right now but he does say some sweet things. He's walking confidently and his nanny tells me he's getting on well with potty training too.
We'll be spending the festive season in Lapland this year, we've found that the alpine resorts we used to go to have just got too touristy now. Nothing spoils a good holiday like crowds of the hoi-polloi.
Of course due to the extra demands on Andy's time we've not had as many holidays this year as we'd like but we did manage to fit in two weeks in Florence and a trip up the River Nile. It wasn't quite as good as I'd hoped, the great pyramid at Giza isn't as big as I was expecting.
The butler has just informed me that the Fortnum and Mason order has arrived and they've sent the wrong kind of pâté so I'll have to talk to someone about that, someone will surely lose their job as I can't abide it when the little people screw up, they should know their place.
Oh, some good news now, the builders have arrived to build the new helipad on the roof. That'll make shopping trips so much simpler!
All the best, hope you all have a good year, but not as good as mine of course.

In The Nightmare Garden

Words cannot express just how much I hate..

The tombiliboos - or however the heck you spell it. I hate them, I truly and deeply hate them and the silly little blobs on their heads. I hate their silly trousers that always fall down - just buy belts you silly little blob people!
I hate In The Night Garden. It's just about the worst program on CBeebies at the moment. It's so teeth gratingly awful I don't know why anyone watches it ever, except that Joseph has started to.
It's my fault. I taught him how to select the programs he wanted from CBeebies iPlayer as I was usually too busy with feeding Daniel to get up. At first all this meant was lots and lots of Octonauts, which was bearable if a little repetitive at times. I know a lot about fiddler crabs now.
The issue was that he soon worked out how to do more than choose the next program in the series, he could see other things he liked the look of....

Oh my son. You used to have such good taste in telly. If it wasn't Aardman, he just wasn't interested. He loved Timmy Time and Shaun the Sheep and as for Wallace and Gromit - well one lunch time he told me "Cracking toast, Mummy!" and wanted to know if we could build a rocket under the house. Alas we have no basement.

I should explain that we do not have "proper" telly in our house. We have, instead, a good quality Internet connection which gives us access to most freeview stuff anyway and we also pay for Netflix which supplies Joseph with enough Disney films to keep him happy as well as Thomas the Tank Engine. We used BBC iPlayer every now and then for something that looked good and bought some DVDs of the stuff he really liked thus ensuring that the BBC did get some money from us in the end.
Now I have to hide the mouse if we watch iPlayer. I can cope with the odd episode of Tree Fu Tom, which is pretty bad and even Nina and the Neurons which is a bit educational but it all went to pot on holiday.
If he was good he got a bit in the morning and the CBeebies bedtime hour at the end of the day. We were subjected to Abney and Teal - I hate this show too but it was only one episode at a time - and the true dire hell that is In The Night Garden. I'm not going to pay a licence fee if they're going to waste it on that bilge water! That's when he saw it for the first time and fell for its heroin like addictiveness.
I feel sorry for Upsy Daisy I have to admit, forced to dance for the evil Iggle Piggle and his creepy blanket. She must dance with him and keep a smile on her poor face..... As for the Macca Pacca, that poor chap needs a therapist for his obsessive behaviour before it gets totally out of hand.
It's the tombliboos I really hate. They are the evil masterminds of the whole creepy place. I hate they way they make poor Derek Jacobi narrate it. What did the poor man do to deserve such a punishment? I imagine him in tears after each reading whimpering "I used to do Shakespeare you know!"
I hate the insidious theme music that sticks in the brain like glue and is harder to remove than a migraine, also leaving you feeling nauseous and emotional. It sits in the back of your brain quietly and creeps on out when you least expect it, when you're doing the shopping for example and you find yourself humming the sanity rotting ditty and it just wont stop! You want to scream and rip your own ears off, but in the middle of Sainsburys you look a bit odd.
I really and truly hate how they make the wretched thing last half an hour.

Ill Again

Joseph hadn't got over the first head cold before falling ill with the second. It's the main down side to education, the sheer number of kids who aren't kept home when they're ill so they share their bugs and nasties about with all and sundry.
I went to pick him up from pre-school yesterday and was confronted by the sight of a red faced and crying little boy, clutching onto his right ear a lot. He had, in the last ten minutes of the session, suddenly changed from his usual happy and cheeky self to a sad little heap. They didn't know why, but thought he was a little ill.
I asked him if he wanted to go straight home or have our usual Tuesday café stop. Not even illness can stop Joseph from wanting to go to a café, so we went. Andy came to meet us, he likes a late lunch hour does my Andy and works only a short walk from the café we like to stop in.
Joseph began to realise how ill he was. His ear was hurting and he didn't feel like his usual babychino with the marshmallows so had a cold drink instead. I presented him with his usual packet of wafers that he likes and he promptly burst into tears again. He did not feel like eating.
Oh dear, if even wafers can't tempt him then he must be really ill. He cried and it got louder and louder leaving poor Andy and I with nothing to do but finish our respected decaf and full-fat coffees as quickly as possible and carry poor Joseph the short walk across the precinct to the doctors surgery. Joseph screaming that his ear hurt the entire time and I was having visions of pussy ear infections, horrible antibiotics and nasty consequences. I kept my fears to myself, no point upsetting the poor little chap any more than necessary.
Good news, there was an appointment available if I didn't mind a short wait. Joseph looked like he needed a rest before attempting the walk home anyway so I said ok and sat down to wait. Joseph alternated between wanting me to cuddle him the whole time and wanting to go and play. I told him he couldn't play as there was a good chance he had something infectious and I didn't want to risk him passing it on.
I've talked to him about germs before, and he seemed to understand the idea when he had a head-cold. "I've got little germs living up my nose, Mummy?"
Yes Joseph, and they're trying to escape in your snot.
He was unconvinced until Daniel decided that he'd been in the buggy quite long enough now thanks and really wanted a cuddle. Joseph decided that my lap was not for sharing and decided he really was too ill to play and wanted me to hold him.
Worried now that all I was in fact doing was wasting the doctors time and annoying everyone sat in the waiting room I got up when called for Joseph's appointment with a degree of trepidation.
Could the doctor look and see if he had a rash?
By all means, but it might be a little hard to tell as he's still covered in red marks from the chickenpox.
He did have a slight rash, on his cheeks and lower neck. Ears look a bit red inside and please open your mouth Joseph so we can take a look....
He didn't want to. He wouldn't be brave or pretend I was cleaning his teeth or anything so had to be gently but firmly made to co-operate by aid of a lolly stick. One red looking throat, but not pussy which is good news.
The bad news? Infection most likely caused by parvovirus B19 aka the Slapped Cheek virus so named as its victims exhibit red cheeks as if they'd been slapped. Josephs cheeks looked like they'd been aggressively exfoliated and then had aftershave put on them. They glowed like hot coals.
He does go pink when he cries, but not this much. Oh well then.
Got given a printed fact sheet and sent home with the message "Give plenty of fluids and keep him off school for a couple of days."
The bad news? People with this are most infectious for 4 to 20 days.... before the symptoms are visible. Once the rash is showing they're not infectious.
Great! So just who has he managed to pass it on to in the last week? Have I had it yet? My Mum's not sure, she thinks so but isn't 100%. You can catch it and not have any symptoms at all or you can be quite ill there's no way to tell. It's a good job all the pregnant women I knew have all had their babies as it can be nasty for them especially if they're pre twenty weeks.

Today he's looking better. There's still a blotchy rash on his cheeks, but it's less and he doesn't look like he's had a rouge accident so he's on the mend, I guess the magic pink calpol is doing it's job. I'll keep him off pre-school tomorrow anyway as per doctors orders but I'm having a hard enough time persuading him to rest today as it is. We've had to compromise a bit, he's staying in his room for now playing with his Chuggington trains with the order to lie in bed if he feels tired or ill. He hasn't yet.

No sleep for the tired

How does one persuade a baby to sleep when he's not convinced?
He'll take a dummy now, which helps, but on its own is no good. You can put him in his cot, give him his dummy, walk away....
He cries, oh he cries. He's tired, you can tell by all the eye rubbing, but still he cries and he doesn't stop.
I cuddle him, he calms down so I put him back.
He keeps crying.
I give him a feed, that settles him down after some initial fussing. He calms down, the breathing slows, the eyes droop....
I put him in his cot and step back slowly....
He wakes up and cries.
I give him his dummy, he sucks on it looking rather cross and makes a sort of "Omly omly omly" noise, well aware that he's not getting what he wants.
I leave the room anyway, thinking to myself that he is tired and that given some time he'll have to give in.
He doesn't give in. The crying gets louder and louder and louder.
I give in first, I try the dummy again and it is spat out. I cuddle him and he arches his back like a banana, making it hard to hold him. He is letting me know in no uncertain terms that he is not at all happy with the current situation and if it continues then there will be hell to pay.
I try feeding him again, he's not interested.

An hour later I try again, repeat all steps as above with the same result. He hasn't got bags under his eyes, but a whole set of matching luggage. Sleep you little thing! You'll feel so much better. He droops and dozes for a moment, but wakes immediately and if I'm daft enough to put him in the cot... well, you'd think the wretched thing was made of boiling hot lava, the way he reacts!

Give up. Get a cup of tea and sit glaring at the news headlines on the computer with evil babe from the depths of hades squiggling on my lap. Ho hum, lots of stuff happening in the news today... check facebook....
Evil babe has stopped squiggling... he's only gone and gone to sleep just like that!
Load up program on Netflix, sit down slowly on sofa and try not to move....
Realise I've left tea by computer out of reach......

Daniel is definitely a coyote baby. If you get him asleep and go to put him down you find yourself asking whether you'd rather chew your own hand off than risk waking him by removing it from under him......

Bad Behaviour

I can tell Joseph is settling into pre-school. He's confident enough to be naughty now. At the start, he had something of a confident shyness about him, he didn't have the massive screaming tantrums or melt down into tears, he just looked very sad and just kept asking "Why?" when I said I had to go. "I'm too big and too old." I told him. He still looked sad.
He didn't want to sit with the other children. He just wanted to play in the sand - just the sand and nothing else. As I said, confident in his shyness. I would go and pick him up and he'd say that he was ok - but he missed his house. Yes, that's where he went first, not me or his baby brother or even his toys - his house.
He's managed to make a couple of friends in his little group. I asked him what their names were: -
"Angry Boy and Pants - because I shout pant at him."
"Why do you shout Pants at him? That's not very nice!"
"But he shouts pants at me!"
Angry Boy is so named because they just shout. I have mentioned at other times that I have little understanding of the male mind and the mind of a three year old boy is shrouded in deep layers of mystery. These boys a friends and they like shouting at each other. His pre-school keyworker said that Joseph and Pants (I'm not going to use his real name, I do know it but for privacy's sake... no, it's just coz it's funny, I'm sticking with Pants) were as thick as thieves and having lots of fun, but don't worry, he didn't wet himself, they had to change Joseph's trousers because he'd had a little too much fun in the sand pit.
I got home, got the dirty trousers out of the bag and promptly got wet sand everywhere. Fun in the sandpit, according to Joseph meant he and Pants had dug a big hole, Joseph had got in and then buried himself with a little help. The problem with sand is it just gets everywhere. It's clingy when wet, but scatters off like mad when dry. I washed said trousers - they were new and all, the one day he goes in with new trousers and he tries to wreck them - and there was still sand on them and in the pockets.
I got to meet Angry Boy in the queue one morning as we were waiting to be let in. He had some lengths of dry grass in his pocket which he was calling sticks so they were happily shouting "Sticks!" at each other for a while. Then one of them decided they were bread sticks and that was shouted too. No, I don't know why.
On two occasions I have gone to pick up my lovable little scamp and been told that his listening skills have a little something to be desired. I am aware of this, Joseph will often decide to not listen when being told something he doesn't like or isn't interested in. I have at times held his head in both my hands and looked him right in the eyes and still what I am saying does not go in.
We're working on it, but it's very hit and miss. Having tried one or two ways round with the whole discipline thing, we've gone back to bribery. The carrot is better than the stick, or at least a whole lot less stressful.
He doesn't even like carrots, but there you go. We're using skittles right now. I line them up on a shelf he can see but can't reach. Whatever it is we're trying to do, be it getting dressed, tidying up or eating dinner he knows that if he's given warnings and told off enough times then I'll start eating them. And that would totally ruin my diet.

In other news Daniel is still a bit ill, there's nothing so sad as a baby with a chesty cold except the mother of a baby with a chesty cold who keeps being woken up in the night. Sometimes putting the dummy back in works, sometimes not. Sometimes he just needs a cuddle, sometimes I have to feed him, sit with him for a bit and make sure he's nice and snug and warm before he'll give up and go back to sleep, usually just as I've got to the interesting bit of the program I'm watching on Netflix to help me stay awake. I'm really getting my moneys worth out of the subscription at the moment.