So, it’s been a while… Oops, sorry to those poor souls out there who actually endure my regular ramblings…
somewhere between driving 5000km, a train derailment delaying our move in, an expanding bump, a suicidal dog and the birth of the new one, six months managed to slip by! Nuts huh?
so let’s just jump forward to today… And worry about the in between later…
and by today, I mean two days ago…
because that’s when it all started.
spots.
let’s face it… Toddlers get spots, like ALL. THE. TIME!
So when my ( now very busy, very active – yeah, I need to update all of that too) microman was sporting a delightfully spotty bum a few days ago I thought nothing of it!!
He was still as mental as ever and let’s face it, if I wrapped your bum up with pee absorbing freaky chemical filled materials and made you run about in the 35 degree heat and high humidity the fair chance is you would get a case of spotty bot too…
but alas, the spots began to spread… So of course, this morning, as the usual morning pandemonium started to unfold I uncover that spotty bot now encompasses arms, legs, back, face and well… Child in general…
Still active, still loud, still able to produce more poop than your average gastroenterologist would know what to do with… But mysteriously spotty… And most notably… Off his food. Micro no food? Macro problem!
Of course today is day care day… My little sliver of sunshine in a frantic week… Where miss mango gets some much needed mummy time without micro biting her head, gouging her eyes or generally loving her a little too vigorously… A day where mummy gets a chance to see other mummies and hold conversations where she doesn’t have to refer to herself in the third person… So yes… If there are going to be spots…
there will be spots today…
none one the less, my morning started like any other morning.
wake up at ridiculous o clock, feed baby
try to snatch remaining few hours of sleep before onslaught of baby mayhem takes hold…
awake to hollers from micro
wrestle micro to access nappy for morning change.
get deliberately sprayed by milk from milk bottle bribe
discover nappy full of stench, get arm full of stench as micro flips over and nappy flies through the air, landing messy side down on the floor, of course,
wrestle micro back onto his back,
get bitten,
get kicked by foot that got covered in mess during kicking and flailing spree.
bundle micro into the bath tub.
hose down…
try to call out to calm mango who is now screaming for milk, a fresh nappy, attention or just for the heck of it, who knows?
fish wet wriggly micro out of the bathtub and transfer to the baby cage.
Attempt to dry and nappy. Fail.
Abandon mission and go console now hysterically frantic mango… Who sees me and giggles… Bless her.
resume mission to nappy micro.
Discover pee on the floor. Mental note to clean that later…
Wrangle now nappied micro into high chair… All the while being kicked and eye gouged. Recieve yet another scratch to the face and on my nose.
Offer breakfast and duck as it is thrown with surprising strength and accuracy at my head.
console crying baby.
discover that spots have spread. Debate dressing him in long clothes and taking him to day care anyways…
call medical centre. … Doctors all booked out till late next week ( must remember to schedule intention to be sick or injured at least a week in advance…
call alternate medical centre, closed till next week.. ( they’ve all taken holidays!)
call day care to confirm spot policy and be advised that there are cases of hand foot and mouth going around. Advised to take him to hospital for diagnosis.
Panic a little and stress whilst removing toast from hair… Call hospital to see if I should bring him into emergency as advised by day care… Little other choice…
wrestle to get micro out of high chair and into clothing
console screaming, frantic, hungry baby.
bundle two children into car and drive to town…
discover that boob is sticking out of shirt after a frantic breast feed by mango… Tuck it away grateful that discovery was made before arriving at hospital…
realise that i have not brushed my hair or teeth and have a poopy foot print on my shirt and a scratched nose. Shrug it off…
we have made it to emergency, join the queue. It’s going to be a while… And rightly so… With no doctors at all available in town it’s the only option… So of course this is when mango decides she is now ready for her feed. Survey waiting room full of sick, injured,impaled and dodgy looking characters… Decide it is in their and my best interest to take the travelling circus into adjacent, empty waiting room.
bless micro… Because, one must understand… He is a “free range” child… And as such… DOES NOT like being caged or fenced in by anything!!! This includes frequent temper tantrums at being taken to the park and outright meltdowns at the fact out yard has a gate… So looking at his sad, spotty, snotty face as he was clipped in to the pram as I wrestled to feed the mango I knew we were going to be in for a rough one… I tried a toy, I tried a car, I tried the iPad ( all whilst being munched on) but as inevitable as the fall of the Roman Empire, the hissy fit came…. GET ME OUT OF THIS PRAM!!!!! What choice did I have?? So ( somewhat foolishly) I rescued my little micro from his shackles and let him roam free…
at first it was great.
smiles. Giggles.
hospitals are fun places to explore.
he even came back when called… The first two times…
but slowly… As time ticked on more and more… He stopped coming when called… And started discovering that there was more fun in. The ” staff only” rooms…
Abandoning my pram ( and wallet and phone and keys – safety first Laurie!) and my now crying baby in the capsule, I raced ( whilst tucking my boob away, again) into the staff room to retrieve my now giggling micro.
Alarmingly, even in this condition, the staff actually thought I was a dr for a split second!
Retrieved child. Carry him back to pram, kicking and screaming…
at this time, the worlds friendliest cleaner, who had swept the same patch of corridor at least five times whilst I had been sitting there decided I was safe to approach and came to tell me all about her puppy… Oblivious to the fact I was chasing one ( now manic) toddler who had discovered the automatic doors and was laughing like a mad man as he made a dash for the car park and trying to fit now screaming, frantic baby out of capsule and into the bjorn so that I could chase said toddler…
worlds friendliest cleaner then showed me photos of her new puppy, which in fairness, was very cute… And advised me that there was a kiddy section around a further corner. Brilliant. Let’s try it!
a colouring table. Sweet. Better than nothing. I assume when they see my pram, wallet, phone, keys and empty capsule they will realise I haven’t gone home and i won’t miss my turn to see the doctor.
but alas, with a colouring table comes crayons… Tasty, tasty crayons… Crayons that fly like projectile missiles if launched by a 17 month old… So as I bend down to pick up projectile crayons, each time causing baby in bjorn to cry frantically, worlds friendliest cleaner continues to chase me around to show me the puppy photos!
And in the midst of all this… A text. A red texta no less. And if I thought crayons tasted good, textas are like dessert. In less time that it took to say texta it was in the gob and being sucked on by one delighted toddler. As as the amount of drool to ink ratio got out of whack I was now faced with one completely red faced, red mouthed, red shirted toddler laughing like a mad man!!! ( meanwhile, I am still bouncing whilst trying to console crying baby in bjorn!)
with much effort, scoop up micro man to remove texta only then to discover… The little bugger has done a sneaky second poo!!! Not now micro! Seriously, not now!!!
overly friendly cleaner advises me there is a baby change table around the corner. Thank god for a win!!! And then she looks on as I wrestle to hold micro under one arm, whilst trying to stop him swatting at his sisters head, bounce to keep the baby calm and try to get the nappies, wipes etc etc out of the pram…
Head into disabled toilet with change table. Attempt to change micro.
recieve several kicks. Realise that baby strapped to chest is recieving most kicks. Watch helplessly as wriggling toddler falls off change table towards floor and catch like a true acrobat with my foot. ( all whilst still bouncing) conclude that attempt one is a fail.
scoop up micro and assorted change stuff and head back to pram.. ( get giggles from men in waiting room)
grab capsule, throw change gear in capsule and return to change table. Lock toilet door.
place micro down whilst extracting mango to put her into capsule. Micro of course discovers the toilet. Helpless sigh.
pick him up, man handle him and endure the shrieks and screams of the boy who does not want his bottom wiped ( oh and of course it was ENORMOUS and extra stinky!) eventually win out, bum is changed. Nappy and subsequent poop is on floor. Dammit!
Place him down… Away from said poop… Try to clean up damages. Realise that mango needs changing too. Listen to micro playing in toilet water whilst halfway through nappy change. Accept that this is inevitable and pray he doesn’t fall in.
meanwhile, micro discovers awesome bathroom acoustics and screams and squeals at top volume to enjoy the echo… ( god only knows what the folks I the waiting room thought I was doing to him. )
attempt hand washing and collection of baby, changing goods and toddler before re entry into the toilet all to the sounds of the bathroom symphony squealy orchestra.
Emerge, slightly frazzled.
place toddler down to get better grip on baby… Look up to see toddler racing out auto doors. Again. Retrieve toddler… Wrestle him back into pram. Screaming and crying now at maximum volume and intensity. The doctor will see me now.
take texta, dirt and most likely poop covered, screaming, crying, snotty child through to consultation room. Doctor is at first freaked out by incredible redness of mouth… Until I explain it is from the texta he ate…
use several wipes to get through the dirt layers to show rash spots on feet…
Phage to take nappy off again to show spotty bot… And consequently go through extreme drama of getting nappy and pants back on… Much to doctors complete bemusement! ( seriously, there was nothing else for it but to laugh) try to hold micro in strangler hold to look in mouth and ears… And don’t even start me on how hard it was to get a temperature.
the conclusion.
viral rash.
not necessarily hand foot and mouth because there are no blisters… But still could be.
And there is NOTHING we can take for it… Just needs to run its course and we just need to be quarantined… Yes, I might get it and yes, most likely, miss cranky, off her food, crying baby is probably miserable because she is coming down with it… The fact that she has a slight fever would support this…
none the less just over two hours after we first arrived… Pack the travelling circus back into the car and head home.
no day care for us today!!! But hey… They good news is, now that it was lunchtime, I got myself a frozen coke and the machine was even working! Wooohoooo!!! Mummy for the win!!!
hoping to be spot free and ready to tackle the world again in no time!!
sorry for the break in writing… Will try to backdate our adventures soon!!!
may your spots be innocuous wherever they may be!!!
hugs!
Always.
L
![The now mobile micro man... Now with added cheekiness! ;-)](http://web.archive.org./web/20231225233534im_/https://metalundies.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/image.jpg?w=225&h=300)
The now mobile micro man… Now with added cheekiness! 😉
![image](http://web.archive.org./web/20231225233534im_/https://metalundies.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/image2.jpg?w=200&h=300)