It’s that time of year.
No not bogeyman time. And not big red suit man time either.
No. It’s getting colder. There’s even more rain.
It's cold and cough session and snot is in the air…
BabyBoy2 has been coughing for about week now.
I know what you’re thinking. It’s only a cough. You utter, utter, bastard.
It is. It is only a cough.
Lot of babies get coughs and are totally fine. Coughs come and go. Almost every single time. Coughs are fleeting. Been a week? Wow. Bad one huh?
But don’t worry it’ll go.
(Go on! SHOOO! You stupid Chough…)
[I arrive home from work]
Dude! <To Boy9>
Boy9: <Eyes barely flicker away from tele>
Dudette!! <To Miss5>
Miss5: 'Daddy' <Runs over for a hug>
BabyBoy2: <Turns instantly> ‘Dad-Cough cough cough cough cough cough cough-dy!’
<Picks up BabyBoy2 and rubs his back>
<Puts BabyBoy2 down to carry on watching Octonauts learning the viola>
Mrs. Amazing: ‘Hey’
S’up Hey… Has he been coughing like that all day?
Mrs. Amazing: ‘... yeah’
<Team Parent (yay!) exchange glances>
We've had problems with coughs before.
With Boy9 they turned into chest infections. Antibiotics sorted them.
When Miss5’s crackles (doc term) started filling her lungs. Antibiotics and a hospital rush fixed that. So you can understand our concern with BabyBoy2.
Actually I spoke to Mrs. Amazing about this.
I wanted to see if she was as worried as me. And no, no she's not.
It’s me that’s all worried and a bit stressed by it all...
Each trip to the hospital knocks me for six and weakens me a little.
Normally experience makes me stronger: drinking practice, movie marathons, work, Iron Cake competitions etc. Yet this doesn't.
It seems to stack up inside of me. Building and building until... BANG!
For Mrs. Amazing:
She said each hospital trip is kind of reassuring. Each time there's been an emergency and we've run to the NHS they've made everything better. She feels reassured there's people that can help out there.
So whilst I'm fretting and worrying about what might happen in my head. Wearing myself down and out. Mrs. Amazing sensibly isn't.
It isn’t normally that way round.
(Shouldn’t his hat be inside his head?...)
BabyBoy2 will be fine.
I know. Plus Team Parent (yay!) are cold experts now. We do not sit about watching tele, eating chocolate, having the odd shandy, letting these things happen.
No. Team Parent (yay!) kick into bubble wrap mode:
1. BabyBoy2 wears a vest 24-7.
2. House temperature is increased.
3. I stop sharing food with him.
4. Wet laundry is purposely hung in BabyBoy2’s room to add moisture to the air (helps coughs).
5. Time outside is kept to a minimum and only in direct sunlight. Even if he is really excited to see me after work. He has to wait until I get inside the house.
6. Drinks are constantly passed to BabyBoy2. More. More.
7. Bowls of steaming water are pushed under his bed at night with droplets of Olbas oil in it.
8. Vicks VapoRub is put on his chest at night and I spend the rest of the night failing to get it off my hands and getting it in my eyes.
9. There's a Calpol (pink one, tasty) and Nurofen (white one, not so tasty) truck pumping medicine into his room is given as per instructions, frequently.
10. BabyBoy2 gets longer naps.
11. I sacrifice a pillow to be jammed under his mattress so he sleeps with his head up a bit.
Basically. Team Parent (yay!) wrap BabyBoy2, ever so lightly, in bubble wrap.
<Goes to get more bubble wrap>
The smegger little dude doesn’t help himself either.
When you’re a bit short of energy and breath. What you really need is to sit and chill.
BabyBoy2 doesn't get that at all.
He’s two. His main mission in life is too expend energy as quickly and as joyously as possible (which I love him for).
BabyBoy2 finds everything fun and exciting...
Little dude... I got you this... <drum roll> a train ticket!!!
BabyBoy2: 'YAY!' <Runs about the house showing everyone what he's got>
BabyBoy2: 'Cough cough'
It's hard to keep him still and resting.
It’s like telling a grasshopper not to leap. Or a bird not to fly. Or a bug not to bug.
It's build in, it’s natural. There’s a hardwired need and desire.
It’s like telling me to leave chocolate alone...
Mrs. Amazing: ‘I am going to show you, so there’s no confusion’
Uh huh… <Puts down toy The Times>
Mrs. Amazing: ‘This here’ <Points> ‘Is our chocolate’
My Our chocolate. Gotcha
Mrs. Amazing: ‘This here’ <Moves to other side of the kitchen, a different cupboard, and points> ‘Is the kids chocolate’
Mrs. Amazing: ‘No. No. See the mistake you’ve made here, is that you assume ALL chocolate in the house is yours’
Mit mis <Is eating ‘Our Chocolate’>
Mrs. Amazing: ‘No. Not true! This chocolate is the kids. It’s not for you’
Mrs. Amazing: ‘You shouldn’t steal your children’s chocolate’
<Gives Mrs. Amazing a funny look> In some ways you me are very different...
Mrs. Amazing: ‘Don’t touch it’ <Is firm>
OK... <Sulks off>
<Takes chocolate whilst wearing gloves>
Eventually we took BabyBoy2 to the doctors.
He wasn't that bad. But waiting before has gone bad for us. We just needed to know how bad it was. Should we stay at home or race off to the hospital.
We needed the Clash someone with actual medical knowledge.
Not me googling stuff...
<Has been googling for ages> So it seems... based on what I looked up...
BabyBoy2... is... fifteen months pregnant… and made of jam...
… I don’t think that’s right…
Mrs. Amazing: 'You think?'
... yeah… fifteen months is too long...
Mrs. Amazing: 'I'm calling the doctors and getting him an appointment'
(The kids playing dressup...)
BabyBoy2 visited the docs whilst I was at work.
So I sat at work waiting (and working obv. busy busy...) to hear the doctors thinkinials (prognosis). Obv. I want to hear everything is fine. It's just a cold.
But I’ve already thought through what I might have to do…
Dr. Mallard: ‘He's in a bad way can you run out of work instantly?’
Dr. Mallard: ‘I think he would be best in hospital can y…’
Dr. Mallard: ‘He needs to a rare flower from Australia, four lotus blossoms from Japan, and a matter-transmatter-matteration-trans device. With bluetooth’
... I'll be ten minutes... <Runs>
I hate waiting.
It sucks. It was a hella long sucky morning to be honest. Stupid worrying. I do hope this is not becoming a habit of mine. Oh wait... Did I just worry about that?
Finally Mrs. Amazing texts with the doctor’s verdict (abridged): Just a cold. Keep giving Calpol, Nurofen, lots of drinks, keep warm.
Phew. So nothing to worry about then.
Later that night.
I took a bowl of steamy water up to BabyBoy2's room.
It was late and dark when I carefully put in some Olbas oil drops.
Too dark it seems. And too many drops. Which I now realise I knew as I was doing it.
But I was very tired at the time and I just went with more is better.
The Cake/Beer/Bacon/Pie/Sex/Toys/Sleep/Sweets/Duvet rule.
As I leant down.
To put the steaming water under BabyBoy2's bed. My face, my mouth and both eyes got a huge blast of vapour from the excessive drops I had put in.
If you've never experienced it. It’s like eating five extra strong mints at once. Munching them up. And then taking a big, deep, breath of cold air. Naked, in the arctic.
I staggered out of BabyBoy2’s room temporarily blind, breathless and every single drop of mucus removed from my body for the next month.
It took Mrs. Amazing ages to stop laughing.