Saturday, 1 December 2012

Snot City

Miss Mog was a little tired yesterday. Not poorly, just more absent than normal. She slept nicely last night, but woke up with a cold this morning.

Snotty but happy; more than I was, having had too recent a reminder of how serious colds can be for our guys.

And then she stopped being snotty and started being hugely unhappy instead. Sorted the uncomfortableness out, and the snot started up again. Steps taken to reduce the snot, and back came the seizures and spasms. Joy.

Now she's in bed, but despite shedloads of meds is fighting sleep with her heart suggesting she might in fact be running a marathon, not merely lying in bed with a machine doing the breathing in bit for her.

Meanwhile, tLP woke up snot free but with a blocked catheter for the second morning in a row. A more southerly snot maybe? And with a giant frog in her throat which has sent her gradually more creaky as the day has gone on. Is it wrong to wonder how she'd be if she lost her voice completely?

Not feeling at all unwell, just drinking pints in an attempt to drown the frog.

Put both girls together and there's a poorly child between them. But neither of them really qualifies as ill individually. Meanwhile I'm tired - and I can't work out if that's poorly child or just juggling frogs and snot whilst also attempting to be vaguely useful at a Guide sleepover.

Joys of the big blue bus (yes, she's back; no, they couldn't find the problem) - parking at church easy enough but getting out of an unexpectedly full car park necessitated interrupting a concert to ask another driver to move. Oops.

Now sleep needs to happen, but first both girls need to settle. Mog is protesting, and tLP is traumatised. Both cats chose tonight to hide in her bedroom. Benjamin jumped on her face 2 minutes after I'd turned out the lights; Grolly was more patient and waited eight minutes after I'd evicted Ben. Neatly ensuring one small girl was even more wound up than she had been after a late night and much chocolate with the Guides.

Now I must find a toy or two for parade service tomorrow; I'm thinking bubble mixture and secondhand playdough probably won't quite hit the mark.


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