Daily Life

A Very Snotty Birthday

This last week has not been the best in our home.

Mostly because the flu hit us all really bad, including my husband (who almost never gets sick) and both the babies. Into the third week of Flumageddon. Used tissues litter every available surface. Vaporub perfumes the house. We’re floating on a sea of chicken soup and hot lemon and honey. My toddler keeps sneaking off to eat Butter Menthols. We’ve gone through 6 sets of crib sheets between the two kids, who have had an astounding number of nappy leaks. Plus the baby developed this habit of vomiting his 11pm bottle every night for five days. One night I heard him coughing post-bottle and picked him up…so he vomited all over me. And the bed. And the floor. Then there was that time he decided he could only sleep sideways in bed, with his head on my stomach….or lying diagonally across my pillow.

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During this period, I watched about three or four seasons of Doctor Who, the entire Wallander TV series, Bridget Jones’ Diary 1 + 2, Shark Tale, The Expendables, She’s The Man, Serenity, a couple of Firefly episodes, about two seasons of How I Met Your Mother, and the entire first season of Broadchurch (in one night). So I can’t say it was a complete waste of time. I just didn’t do any housework or anything useful.

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The worst part in all this? The fact that kids hate having their noses wiped. They prefer to rub with the back of their fist and spread snot in a fine layer across as much of their face as possible, forming a sticky area to attract bits of fluff. The whole thing dries in a grey-speckled crust across their cheeks. Or they just go ahead and wipe their nose on my clean jeans, because let’s face it why does anyone need clean clothes? And don’t even get me started on the biscuits.

In this snot and eucalyptus oil-infused timeframe my 22nd birthday rolled around. I celebrated in the usual wild way that mums celebrate their birthdays, with presents like a new ironing board (which is actually what I asked for) and going to a cafe with small children. I did my nails – and my toddler’s…..

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Cleaned Snotty McSnott, and Major Mucus….

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They remained clean for a surprisingly long time, although they poured the shampoo over the closed lid of the toilet while I was distracted. Baby tried to eat it. He was not a fan.

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Got myself looking all badass with leather and sunnies and cool-looking hair (and yes it got in my mouth, it was windy ok)

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Took some cool mirror-sunglasses selfies with Toddler in the background…

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Found ourselves a nice hipster cafe with enough room for a pram…

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Baby set his sights on his dad’s mocha.

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He then entertained himself by pretending to eat chips and shoving them down the side of his pram when we weren’t looking.

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Toddler defended his milkshake manfully from Baby, and drank the entire thing in about 2 seconds.

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Yes I ate waffles with strawberries and icecream and a chocolate milkshake at 3 in the afternoon. That’s what adults do.

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Happy birthday to me!

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