Aren’t kids great? In my experience, they categorically have a sixth sense to run a high temperature at the following times

  1. You’ve had a tough week & the Pinot Grigio & Netlix binge awaits on a Friday night
  2. You’ve got the suitcases packed and your leaving for more exotic climes in the wee hours
  3. You’ve finally made a date with your gal pals/bros, that you’ve cancelled on previously (several times 😬) with the same excuse.


Our 3 year old, the youngest of our brood of 4 (whose births span over almost a quarter of a century) is a tad under the weather and with the Chickenpox doing its rounds at nursery, I’m on ‘Pox Watch‘.  It’s quite cruel in the circumstances, having just savoured my first excellently chilled glass of wine.  Oh yes. Sure. Let me get a taste of it first then fall ill.  Thanks toots. 

There may be parents out there that merely carry on, pour another and calmly wait for the Calpol/Nurofen to work its magic (which Nurofen really is) but that’s not me.  My first reaction, after breaking out in a sweat, is “but what if I have to drive her to casualty?” or “what if I’m up all night cleaning spew from the walls and bedding?


 You see, having 4 kids (2 of each. Boys and girls, that is) times like these are regular occurrences.  I’m an old hand at this now.  Literally. Old.

I’ve experienced motherhood, giving birth to my eldest daughter at the tender age of 18 (on my birthday no less), a few silly age gaps later, two sons and my latest daughter, I gave birth to, 3 years ago aged 41. 

Yes, you’re correct, I should be in a cage in the circus, being poked by sticks. 

(The dawning of the realisation that at this rate, a book might have been more appropriate than a blog 🤔 has just hit me.)
So tonight, instead of feeling the warm ooze of   slight intoxication tingle down to my weary feet and watching my latest boxset crush, I will be on Pox Watch with my beloved 3 year old treasure.  I’ll gladly kneel on my gammy knees, sponging her hot little brow or disinfect the carpet and bedding at 3 am if she decides to projectile vomit like a scene from The Exorcist. You see, out of all my treasures, she is the one I fought for the most, before and after she was born but that folks, is a story of Pre Natal ups and Post Natal Downs for another time! 

So I’ll bid you good night comrades. I hope you all have a really, really frickin’ fab weekend.  

(She said, begrudgingly 😏)

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