We are ill, again. Thankfully the tonsillitis is on it’s way out, but my cough and cold are still going strong. Powerless, I can no longer sing in the shower (I tried last night, it was horrible). I was genuinely frustrated. I know my immune system has hit rock bottom when I can no longer warm my vocal chords up whilst lathering up.
I’ve been house bound now for twelve days and counting. – Minus two trips to the doctors and one trip to Maia’s toddler group, so I could selfishly spread my evil germs to other innocent Mummies. (I’m not sure how effective turning away from the circle and covering your mouth when you cough really is). I was paranoid they were all thinking “why is she here? I don’t have time to catch her germs and get ill!!”. Chatting to one Mum, she asked how I was and I said not to come any closer as I had a bad throat, she replied with “It’s okay I’m ill too..”. I took great comfort in this and the thought that we were all just there because we needed to be, to have a good chat and for the children to enjoy themselves, no one was judging my cough (despite my paranoia telling me otherwise). – Well whether they were or not, we undoubtedly weren’t the only two ill people in the room.
It’s been an interesting twelve days. I’ve read every Psychologies magazine I’d kept “for future reference” and torn out any articles worth archiving. (Yup, I keep old articles, or to be more specific I scrapbook them, it’s a new thing, I like knowing I can refer back to something that made me smile, and no it’s not time consuming. I’m an old lady, I know, that’s ok.)
I even tried more baking the other day. What was supposed to be egg/sugar/butter free Banana bread, came out as a sort of pudding where the outside is hard but the insides are warm and gooey. Nice in theory but this was supposed to be banana bread. The insides refused to solidify. I ate it anyway. (I say I because I went back and forth so many times from the oven trying bit by bit I ended up eating most of it and what was left just didn’t look appetising/edible).
Mother’s Day was a welcomed distraction from all the illness. I was awoken with “HAPPY MUMMY DAY MAMA”. We had cake. It felt like a birthday. My cousins and dear friend Liv came over with flowers -despite my attempts at keeping her away from my evil germs, she insisted she’d be fine, and I’m so glad she did.- There’s nothing like a close friend, someone that speaks your language, coming to remind you there is a world outside of TinyPop and CBeebies.
Oh, hang on now, *live update* it’s Friday night and I can confirm I can breathe through my nose once again.. *Breakthrough*. Perhaps the fog is lifting and I’ll be back on full form next week. Of course I will. That means toddler groups, library trips, the gym, and no more silent showers. Hallelujah.
The Colourful Kind 