The Chicken Pox Saga

I can't believe the cheek of him. A week, a WEEK after Annie has fully healed Joel decides to start sprouting chicken pox like his life depends on it. We had three blissful days outside going to the parks, running around in the garden and experiencing physical contact with other humans. Back in the house we go, and during the last week of our Easter holidays too. Joy.


Joel's struggled with chicken pox a lot more than Annie. He blistered and scabbed quickly which must have created a similar sensation to shape-shifting because the screams from Joel for the entire night on Monday were horrendous. Poor boy couldn't be consoled at all and, now that we have new neighbours next door (where as previously the house had been lying empty), I was even more cautious (and so stressed) at the level of noise we were emitting. This whole debacle has been one I never want to experience again - though I want 4 children so the likelihood is we'll be meeting the chicken pox in the not too distance future.


I'm trying to stay grateful throughout this whole process. My kids getting chicken pox is a good thing (it's supposed to be better to get it when you're younger as it becomes A LOT more serious when they are older), and getting it over Easter has also been good as Annie has been out of nursery anyway so we can't be blamed for any disease-spreading, plus Lee is at home so one of us can get out if we need to and we can tag-team the cuddling and the 'shushing' and the nappy changes. We've probably been able to have a fairly easy ride of it and, with Joel almost fully scabbed over it looks as if we'll be able to get out for the second half of the holiday week as a family.


That's been the disappointment though. I had great plans for Easter. We were going to make use of the National Trust membership cards we got for Christmas and pretend to be a middle-class family oo-ing and ahh-ing over the interior design of our local country houses. We were going to treat ourselves to afternoon tea at one of the petting zoo farms and go on long walks through the countryside. We were going to enjoy afternoons visiting our friends who have recently had a baby and have people over for dinner in the evenings. It was going to be a jam packed week of activities. Instead we've basically sat on our arses watching cruddy day-time TV, eating multi-packs of kettle chips. We haven't even taken the opportunity this week to organise some of the house things that have been on the 'to-do' list since the beginning of time (something we'd managed to do during our first stint with our friend, the pox). I am thoroughly fed up.

But it's nearly over, and, if all goes well, we'll have at least a year pox free before we even entertain the idea of our soon-to-be-third getting it too. I will never take fresh air for granted again and next week I will be dragging our kids to every play-date, activity centre and local park we get the opportunity to attend. If I never see these four walls again I'll be happy!

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