Barf Blog!

This weekend Georgia was hit with the dreaded sickness bug. That’s right, all parents send your sympathy this way- a sicky toddler is truly horrific!

It all started in the middle of the night on Sunday. Bugs always have to start in the most dramatic way possible. They never start in the middle of the day with a bit of warning and a few chuck ups in the toilet. No, they have to start at 2am, with a sick filled bed, sick filled toddler and sick splattered walls. Not only did this mean stripping sheets and cleaning at an ungodly hour; it also meant spending the rest of the night in the spare room with Georgia. Urgh! Hats off to anyone who manages co sleeping. Toddlers move SO much! Through the night I was kicked constantly in the back, elbowed in the face, pushed and shoved. All while trying to get as far away from the ticking germ bomb next to me and breathe the fresh, healthy air on the other side. Jeez, I thought sharing a bed with Danny was bad!

We somehow managed to make it till 6am. Georgia happily exclaimed it was time for Peppa Pig, sat up, then started retching. This time I was prepared. I scooped her up, ran to the bathroom and practically threw her over the sink. Then, in the most loving way possible, I pushed her head away from me while she threw up the entire contents of her stomach and cried for a cuddle. Of course my heart broke for her, there’s nothing worse than seeing your baby in pain and upset. But, at the same time, I really didn’t want her to be sick in my face.

And so started our day of quarantine. The thing is, looking after a sick toddler is like looking after a tiny drunk person. They alternate between singing baby shark as loud as they possibly can and throwing up, all in a matter of seconds (for the record, I’m not sure which is worse either). This was all while trying to keep Georgia from getting too close to Neve. Trying to explain that we need to prevent the spreading of germs to a three year old is not easy. Georgia’s logic was ‘I promise I will not be sick in her mouth mummy’ and everything will be dandy! Luckily Neve had the sense to nap in her cot most of the day and keep well away…

Once Georgia had finally realised that she felt better laying on the sofa, rather than jumping up and down on the bed or scootering around the house, I could finally start cleaning! I’m not someone who normally relishes the thought of cleaning; I haven’t bought into the whole zoflora craze. But, I’m a bit hygiene obsessed, especially when it comes to sickness. And so started the battle; me vs the germs. This was a battle I was determined to win. Armed with my ally ( dettol) I began. I literally dettoled everywhere: Georgia’s mattress, books, curtains, every single door handle, cupboard handle and light switch in the house. You name it, I dettoled it! Hell, I even considered drinking the dettol! I opened every single window in the house, mid November (Neve just wore her coat indoors). I even washed both of Georgia’s snuggles, at the same time leaving her snuggleless for a couple of hours. NOT the funnest hours!

Tired and weary, I sat down, awaiting Danny’s return home. As I heard the door click, my heart soared. Finally I would have some help. My saviour was here. He walked in, then, with puppy dog eyes and the best ‘I’m sick voice’ he could muster, he told me his nose was starting to hurt and he was getting a cold. Well what fucking good timing! Man flu had officially struck! Sympathetic wife I was not! Not only had I just degermed the whole house, my hopes of help had just been royally pissed on. My response was not showering him with affection and sympathy; it was giving him my best death stare and stating: ‘You must be fucking kidding me’.

To give Danny his due, his sniffles have turned into quite a nasty cold and he hasn’t dared be too much of a man about it. He reacted well to my ‘you must be fucking kidding me,’ and has helped as much as he can. Georgia only took a day to get over it and is now her normal funny, sassy, energetic self.

Now I’m awaiting my impending doom of catching the sickness bug or man flu from my germ infested family! Wish me luck!

Our First Wedding Anniversary

A couple of weeks ago it was our first wedding anniversary. Congratulations to us we’ve survived one whole year of marriage and it seriously scares me how quickly this year has gone. Truth be told, being married hasn’t changed our lives; it pretty much just changed my surname (which when you’re a teacher is pretty hard to get used to). Pre marriage we already had a house, joint bank accounts and most importantly a Georgia (heathans that we are!). Post marriage we still have our house, a slightly less healthy looking bank account, a much sassier Georgia and, fast forward 9 months, yes you do the math, a beautiful Neve!

Nevertheless, getting married was important to me and all my hinting obviously made it important to Danny so our first anniversary should be full of romance, love and mushiness right? Apparently not in our marriage. How it actually began in the morning was a rather groggy, post Georgia had nightmares night, ‘Happy anniversary I forgot to get you a card,’ ‘Good me too!’ (The key to a successful marriage- both be as shit as each other!) followed by a trip to Rutland Water accompanied by our small children.

We chose to go to Rutland for the day because we got married there and we thought we could have a romantic stroll, then a short play in the park for Georgia. HA! How wrong we were! Our romantic stroll ended up being a brisk walk straight to the park and then a round of mini golf. In all honesty I quite enjoy a bit of mini golf. Danny gets all technical and precise, blabbering on about angles and shit; I just hit and hope and guess who wins more often?! (Danny will tell you it’s him but he’s a big fat liar). Anyway turns out its not quite the same with a toddler in tow. The toddler has to win every hole or they’ll pull a strop to end all strops. In fact, the toddler pretty much has to play every shot, no matter whose turn it is or whose ball it is. The toddler will flat out refuse to use the child’s golf club issued to them, will insist on using yours instead and be absolutely lethal with it. And then… just when you’re getting in to it, the toddler will decide they’re fed up and everyone has to stop playing! But… the one saving grace…the toddler does look cute when you make them pose for photos (even if you do have to bribe them with an ice cream).

Despite having to spend most of our anniversary playing mini golf, at the park or answering ‘Are we there yet?’ 50 millions times, I did have a lovely day with my favourite people.

Then, even lovelier, was that Nanna had Georgia and Neve for a sleepover last weekend so we could go away to celebrate our anniversary… JUST THE TWO OF US!!

The weekend actually started off with me in a massive strop because Danny hadn’t organised where we were going and instead spent the time I had asked him to find and book a hotel (while I was taking Georgia to ballet) playing f*cking football fantasy league! But I’m over it now… ish…

Anyway we ended up going to Norwich for the weekend and doing a lot of what adults do when they go away without children…. sleeping. Get your minds out of the gutter! I’m open in my blog, but not that open; my Mumma reads these! We went out for a romantic meal and Danny became a proper grown up man- he ate mussels for the first time. He to google how to eat them and ask the waitress, just to be doubly sure, but he did it!! We drank, we shopped, we ate ALOT and it was just what we needed to spend some time together just the two of us!

Life isn’t always easy when there’s little people involved but it’s the best thing in the world and having a partner in crime to laugh with, cry with, keep you sane and drive you insane all at the same time is all you can really ask for! Here’s to many more anniversaries!