On Tuesday I had a meeting. An event in itself because I haven’t really had a meeting before. As an acrobat and juggler there isn’t a huge amount of call for meetings, unless you count the occasional gathering in which anarchists fight over who didn’t clean the loo in the training space. So anyway I had a meeting, about a work thing, a few hours drive away. I was pretty nervous, as I am massively under qualified to do anything other than throw myself and other objects in the air.
As I was about to leave for the afore mentioned meeting I noticed that my youngest son had a spot. On closer inspection he had a fair few spots, which looked suspiciously chicken pox like. Leaving my husband with instructions to ring the doctor I headed out, feeling pretty bad that I couldn’t stay and help.
On my return from the meeting it became apparent that we were definitely in chicken pox territory. Then I greeted my eldest son, had a quick look at his tummy just incase and yep he has chicken pox too. So I cancel the next five days of my life and mentally prepare for the parenting of two chicken poxed children and a one year old without leaving the house.
A pox count that night reveals 27 on Robo Boy and 17 on Super Kid the eldest. A pox count the next morning has 40 on Robo Boy and 27 on Super Kid. The first day is fun, a break from routine. We make things, do activities, eat healthy food and enjoy each others company. I feel like a good mother and pat myself on the back for acing the pox period.
A pox count the next morning 60 on Robo Boy and 40 on Super Kid, we stop counting. Robo Boy is feeling really grotty, and grumpy, and needs calpol and rest. I have to make 40 cupcakes for a friends wedding. My mother in law pops in. Its feels hectic and hard and my patient smile is feeling slightly painted on.
Today (day three) we all hit a bit of a wall. We have done jigsaws and painting, read books, played in the garden (lots), we have built lego, watched tons of TV, and made full use of the iPad. We are all a little bored, and Super Kid has a temperature, Robo Boy is demanding ice-cream constantly (we have been a little less strict on the ice-cream front because of the pox) and I am struggling not to shout. This afternoon I have felt like a slave to three petulant masters, it’s not their fault but its hard to keep calm. I don’t shout, and this makes me proud and eventually my husband comes home from work and bedtime approaches, great.
I am hopeful that we only have a couple of days left of this before the pox scabs over (lovely) and we can get out and about again. Seeing my boys poorly makes me thankful for their usual brilliant health. Nothing keeps them down for long and they are usually so full of energy. So I turn to you dear readers, I have two days left to fill, ideas for filling the time at home are very welcome. Leave me a comment and we will do as many of the things that we can, remember we can’t go out and get supplies.