When housework hits the bottom of the list

There are few things that have happened in my life that have made me stop and rethink my priorities. Most of the time, like the rest of the population we just get on with day to day stuff, managing the daily tasks, crossing jobs off the ever increasing list, putting gentle pressure on ourselves to make sure the house is clean in case of unexpected guests, the car tidy in case you off an impulsive lift, the front door area is swept and tidy for any passer by, the garden is kept trim for neighbours who can see into it, the child is clean when you step out the front door (and there are spare clothes in the bag just in case he needs a change of clothes) etc etc etc. We put these pressures on ourselves to make sure we are acceptable to our peers and we haven't let our parents down. Then something happens to shake your whole world and you stop and think. During June we have had some fantastic weather. In fact I will be so bold as to quote the weather forecasters and say we have had a delightful heatwave. (Delightful if you don't have to work too hard or travel on public transport that is!) During the beginning of the heatwave our little man was a bit 'off colour'. Being a happy boy by nature, when he is ill he is just a little less cheerful over longer periods. When teething he behaves in a similar way. So on this occasion, I was aware he was not himself and the way he kept putting his fingers in his mouth I first thought that he was teething again. Then he got a high temperature. Now I am one of those parents that worries but really doesn't like to make too much fuss and waste professionals time. As his temperature rose to 39.7 C I knew that it was not good. So I did what I thought best and got PM to phone NHS Direct. We were told to just keep him as cool as we could and keep using the calpol but not to damped him down as recent research showed that if cooled to fast from the outside the body tries to raise the temperature again. About 3am his temperature went back down and I got a couple of hours sleep. Now this worried me as it was not the usual way this teething went so I was aware something else was wrong but had no idea. The next day he was in good spirits again but still not himself. We decided to spend the day outside in the shade of trees where it was coolest. In the afternoon, again, his temperature shot up. This time it went to 40.4 C. Oh so very bad!!!! The poor little man was drowsy and grizzly and so out of sorts. Then about 11:30pm he did what I had feared the most, he started to fit. No matter how many times to hear about seizures, see or assist with them, nothing will ever prepare you for when it happens to your baby. Of course, blind panic sets in and the first thing you do is reach for the phone and call for an ambulance while totally random thoughts about 'how glad I am I live in England and not some far flung place without the NHS for back-up' cross your mind. The next thing you are in the back of an ambulance, then in A&E and then in the children's ward. All the time being asked dozens of questions while you watch as your baby is given rectal paracetamol and diazipam resulting in him being totally limp with no body control, in essence physically like a new born. Distressing is one word to describe it all but also awe and wonder that I live in a country and county where we have an excellent local hospital with efficient staff. It is only as everything settles down and you realise the time is about 3am, you have had nothing to eat of drink since lunchtime and you are in a hospital for the night with no bra on under your tee-shirt, wearing very short denim shorts (you only ever wear them round the house, they are not for public display) and your feet are shod in your rather pink slippers! By the end of the next day the little man was over his temperature and allowed home with the verdict being he had viral tonsillitis. He was still very poorly but now as a result of the medication he had been given. If you have never heard of diazipam it is a muscle relaxant. The poor little fellow was so used to being able to dash around the floor on all fours that when he felt a bit better by mid morning he was keen to go down and explore. He looked like Bambi taking his first steps, very wobbly and then falling over. This experience knocked his confidence terribly and I had a very clingy 'hip-limpet for a whole week as we built him up again. So during that next week, the heatwave continued and the house became dirtier and untidier. All that mattered to me was I had a happy boy. As he regained his confidence and became less clingy, all that mattered to me was I had a happy boy. Suddenly, for the first time since my teen years, I couldn't care less about what anyone thought of the state of my house. All that mattered was my little man. He is fine now and it is all a distant memory but the one thing that remains is the housework can always wait.

When teeth are like buses.....

I am shocked at just how fast time has flown by. I intended to do regular updates and find that as the little man gets bigger and more adventurous then the less time I find for moments to do the catch-up. But I digress... so onto the subject of teeth. Teeth, as an adult, are generally taken for granted. They are there and as a rule we do the right thing by them by cleaning them twice daily, as a treat some of us floss often and if we are very good and dedicated to our pearlers then we take them for a biannual outing to the dentist. Occasionally we get a pain, but that is why we have dentist - the doctor of the mouth and we put our faith in him/her to free us of the discomfort and make our lives wonderful again and we forget all about them. What we, thanks to Mother Nature, forget is the arrival of the first pegs. Now if you start to become involved in the world of babies, teething features hugely. There is no greater excuse for any baby/childhood ailment. The slightest whinge, grizzle, dribble or snotty nose and every parent will announce 'oh, he/she is teething again'. Occasionally, if your child is generally miserable (a bad night and slight cold) others will often ask with a sympathetic tone and head tilted to one side, 'teething?'. As for the medicines you are bamboozled with all claiming to ease your baby/child's discomfort - how we do not overdose them in our desperate battle to sooth them I have no idea!
Now we are reliably informed (HV's websites, parents past etc) that babies usually teeth around 6 months. At about 4 months us mums started looking for signs of teething. All the mums in the baby social network were all comparing dribble, moods, temperatures, red cheeks except me. There was not a sign. Oh, don't misunderstand, my little man dribbled for England and as a natural red head had the ruddiest of cheeks but a mother instinct told me that these were most certainly not signs of potential new teeth. As the months went by all the babies of similar age started popping up teeth. We went through a terrible four days in February but not a hint of a tooth after that. We had bouts when the everyday dribble became some substance that can only be described as ectoplasmic and a slight rise in temperature but nothing more. Maternal instinct was telling me not to expect anything until the little man was 10 months old. As we approached the 10 months I even began to wonder if I had be right to even anticipate that, not peep of a tooth. And so the days and weeks passed. One night, I put the little man to bed after a fun day while being in good health and all was well. At 1:30am sleep became non-existent as I was woken by a distressing wail followed rapidly by that haunting sound of retching. As I reached over to the cot vomit gushed from the little fellows mouth. Nothing wakes you faster that your baby being very ill - the sound and smell should be bottled and sold to motorist as they become weary whilst driving on motorways, may an accident could be prevented with this aroma that startles you to wakefulness. As the next few hours pass holding bowls and mopping mouths alll sorts of reasons for the sickness charge through your head starting with 'oh no, have I poisoned him with my cooking?' Why are we programmed to torture ourselves and immediately look to our domestic skills as the reason for a childs illness. Logic kicked in many hours later (lack of sleep delayed the initial arrival of logic). Between bouts of heaving the little man was fine in himself - so much so I had a job to keep his curiosity about the contents of the bowl seriously in check. He had no temperature and was keen to be playing games. The sickness lasted about two hours. Next morning, or to be more precise, later that morning as he had by-passed the need to go back to bed, when cleaning his 'teeth' (something we started at six months old to get into good habits ready for when the baby teeth finally made and appearance) and I noticed that there was the tell-tale little white ridge under his gum. I somehow managed to restrain myself from texting everyone as I realised how pathetic it would read 'little man sick all night but tooth might arrive in the next ten days or so' - not really what people want to read at breakfast! The good old materal instinct was very sure that the sickness was about teething but the sensible head said not. So off to the websites for a general opinion on teething I went. It was very interesting to read on all the 'offical sites that there was no link to vomiting and teething. Cue further paranoia. As the little man was fine for the rest of the day and the next few I kept the paranoia in check. This was all on a Monday night. The next Monday found us car bound for a fun filled week at Centre Parcs with friends. Tuesday morning the tooth cut. No fuss, no complaint. There is was. The joy we all shared, (any excuse to applaud and congratulate the little man and we do) and so the rest of the week went on. Thurday night I was rudely awaken with a familiar sound and smell. Oh yes, sickness in your own house is one thing but in a less familiar surrounding and while sharing with others... not for the faint hearted! This time the vomiting went on for longer but that aside it was so similar to that last time. That breakfast I checked the gum and there, as like before, was the faint white outline of a tooth. By the Tuesday he had his second tooth. Most of his friends had teeth months previous and were popping out others at a rate of knots. We waited nearly 11 months then like buses two came along at once. As his mum I am just so so proud but as an ex dental nurse I am thinking... 18 more teeth equals 18 more nights of vomiting to go... wish me luck!