It’s My Pity Party and I'll Whinge If I Want To

Yesterday was my first blogless day since the blog began. I gave myself the night off after a long, long day and the arrival of February’s sore throat, sinus and tickly cough.

I’ve noticed that, since ‘Bacteria Baby’ moved in, I am fortunate enough to catch the germs he’s just sniffed/licked/digested/poked approximately two days post-exposure. Unfortunately, it’s unavoidable. Once contact has been made with the carrier tot, it’s not a case of ‘if’, it’s a matter of ‘when’. Much like a game of toddler dominoes, once one goes, they all go, selfishly lynching their carers as they fall.

To really show he cares, Chick has now woken up every night for two weeks. My eyelids are swollen, my eyes bloodshot, the spring in my step now a Quasimodo hunched hobble. It’s my Number One Pet Parenting Peeve and I need someone to tell me how to make it stop. I’ve gone through the ‘too hot/too cold/too snotty/too windy' elimination process and have come up with a screaming baby at 2am and 5am.

Whilst in Detective Mum mode, I tried to think back logically to when it started to identify potential triggers. Was it Accountant, in the dining room with the wind inducing baked beans or Mummy in the nursery with the Bonjela? Whatever the elusive reason, one thing I have learnt is that just when you think you’ve got it all sussed, they pull a 360 on you and you’re back to where you started. He’s also spitting his food out again so, all in all, I’m one sorry excuse for a parent.

On the plus side, I did discover a domestic chore I actually rather enjoyed today. Dishwasher filter cleaning. Sad on so many levels, I know, but spending quiet time scraping out bits of slimy old chicken and soggy vegetables was oddly soothing.

We also enjoyed a visit from 'The Baking Vicster and Daughters' this morning. Charlotte and Megan sat quietly building elaborate villages with Chickie’s megablocks. It had houses, swimming pool and a town hall which they tried valiantly to protect against the bulldozer that is Chickie. I cast my mind back a week to the time when those very same blocks were ricocheting off of my head.


My pre-bought Victoria Sponge was thrust aside to make way for Victoria’s chocolate marble cake. Her homebaked offering putting my Count on Us Chocolate Fingers to shame, made worse when Vic nearly lost a tooth to their twig like texture. After attempting to eat one myself, I rechecked the box wondering if I’d picked up ‘Pedigree Denta Stix’ by mistake.

Talking of animals, I only went and discovered another ‘Baby Animals’ Baby Book today. Actually, Kate discovered it round Six Pack Simmie’s this afternoon and, knowing how much I love them, went to the trouble of pointing it out to me. Now Chickie and I can have touching mother and baby “Baby Animal” reading sessions with our respective publications. The child’s version had edited out the disturbing zebra bottom scenes.

Chickie spent the rest of the afternoon charming the ladies. Check out that hand on Sydder’s leg and five minutes later on Isabella’s!