Monday, 3 January 2011

“Sorry,” I say, “That’ll be the steroids”.

Some days make me actually want to spoon my own eyes out…….To date I have not followed through with the preference of this over and above carrying on with the day, but there’s always tomorrow……

I blink my way hunched up like a prematurely aged 32-year-old, hair covering my face, perhaps best left that way too, unearthing my face is avoided usually till the last minute, whereupon I slap a bit of bronzer and mascara on, and off I go, ready to face the day……..! Today I am not well, glands throbbing, sore throat and ears about to burst, but as there is no choice in this house full of living beings but to “Carry on regardless” and I bumble my way through to the kitchen, whereupon I tread on something large and squishy, I expect to see the usual; pooh or puke, when I look down, but to my joy (oh, it was joyful), I see a kiwi, the remnants of. It had obviously committed suicide sometime in the early hours of the morning, it, lacking legs and thus the ability to walk, had stayed there till I had finished it off just then.

Today is the penultimate day before the gang are back at school…..and I realise blind-panic styley that I have not given their bags/homework a second thought the entire holiday. Task for the day; cahiers (homework books in France). Finally at 11 am we are washed, dressed, breakfasted and ready for the mammoth homework session. Pot of tea on, and we’re sat down at the table and away. I trawl through their huge folders and workbooks full of their year’s work, hopping up every now and again to put a wash on, feed the chickens, stir something on the hob. Esmie is bored and looking for self-entertainment; sending mummy fully over the edge style. I steer her away form the big scissors we have found, suggesting in the kindest voice that “Ooooo we don’t want to use scissors that big at 2-years-old, now, do we?” and approaching her slowly (no sudden moves) as if she’s wielding a gun at me or something! Big scissors retrieved, no lost digits, thankfully, and I realise, whilst Esmie is now blowing raspberries on my arm and laughing wildly, that it is getting on. I throw everyone out in the garden, see to a few chores and we hang out for a while. Then they are thrown in the bath, unmuddied, fed, pyjamad, storied and bedded in one fell swoop. The day worked! I made it through ill, and not having died from Big scissor death! (Always a risk).

The day before had not been such a success, I had had to go to the Dr’s, after Mizi’s 4th ear infection in as many weeks, she had to see a specialist, and now it was back to the Docs, for an update, phew! Inspecting her ear with an implement, she cannot help herself bouncing up and down on the Dr bed. “Sorry,” I say, “That’ll be the steroids”. And it is true. The specialist has put her on a course of strong steroids "Out of necessity", the b*st*rd….! The “excitable” one in the family is put on excitable steroid drugs. As the specialist had written down the prescription, he lowered his glasses, took on a stern, concerned facial pose and starts, “Now, out of necessity I have had to give her a weeks’ course of steroids” he leans over, lowering his voice, “They can make one rather, excitable, so best give them first thing in the morning, or she’ll never go to bed.” Absolutely genius! Exactly what any mother wants to hear! Especially as she is the worst sleeper too!

Well little Mitzi is back at school tomorrow, and I shall have to warn the teacher that, as things stand, until the steroids have worn off, there will be no keeping Mitzi in one place for too long…….Good luck teacher! Apologies in advance, and here’s to the night before the first day back at school, a coffee date with Make-up lady, and a Monday morning, with all that that entails…..Bring it on!      

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