We’ve all been sick for days. Monkeyface hasn’t left the building since Wednesday and I’ve been indoors since Friday.
It’s been round upon round of coughing til you think you may punch your own head off if you hear yourself cough once again. Don’t get me started on trying to make food for a sick child when all you want to do is lie down with a quilt over your head until Spring rolls round again only for them to spend an hour finding ways to consume only a teaspoon of it. All this in between crying because they want to be picked up, crying because you picked them up, crying because you picked them up, not daddy and crying because you then handed them to daddy, who isn’t you. I say crying. It’s actually more like “nA, nA, nA” whilst jerking around like she’s doing horizontal street dancing. I feel like Jack Nicholson must have in “The Shining”.
Given the need for more frustration in my life, husband wiped the sputnik laptop and installed Windows 7 finally, as I was threatening to launch said laptop out of the window. One of the huge benefits of spending days sorting through the thousands of photographs of my daughter in preparation for scarily moving it all somewhere else, Safe, is that in the process I found scores of videos taken over the course of the first six months of her life. They are golden treasures.
One video was taken as she was three weeks old, propped up alongside us in bed as my husband read her her first book: The House at Pooh Corner. It was a welcome dose of perspective (helped by the fact she is now safely – and quietly – in bed)
Pass the Vicks