Two weeks later, Riley and I still aren’t 100%.
In his case, he is mostly just lethargic and quiet. People are starting to notice, too. Not that he is that rambunctious a kid at the best of times, but when all he wants to do is be thrown over your shoulder for hugs instead of running off to play in sandpits or forts, then you know something is off. So friends touch his hot little cheeks, and murmur “Poor little guy.” In response, he just turns his head and buries it into my neck.
This is on top of a nasty case of diarrhoea he picked up at the beginning of the week I won’t even go into describing because, well, it was nasty.
As for me, I’m still walking around with a hot water bottle clamped to either my stomach to try and raise my core temperature, or my legs, which still ache.
Yet life continues…
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Keira, however, is well. Hearty, even. And I’ve noticed quite a change in the way she’s been speaking:
“Mum? Nappysan oxyaction plus gets stains out you wouldn’t otherwise in the wash.”
“Mum? I can see Russia from my house.” (Sarah Palin/Tina Fey – my daughter’s first quoting of an SNL skit. *sniff* My sister will be so proud)
(When describing something) “Mum? That is SO COOL.”
Cool? Where and when did that arrive? Okay, awesome I can understand because that is my adjective of choice (not something I’m terribly proud of) around the house but cool?
Maybe she could take a leaf out of Riley’s book. His favourite word at the moment is beautiful (‘Beeeauytiful’). He will walk around the house and point out things: ‘Beautiful flashing lights, mum’ (The modem!), ‘Beautiful washing machine, mum’, ‘Beautiful milo, mum.”
Very cute.
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Last, yet arguably most important: it’s Royal Show time again here in Melbourne. A long-standing tradition in our family (well, since 2006 and 2007), Adam has decided we are ALL to go this year and last night he sat on the computer with Keira and organised our itinerary for someday next week. They spent the better part of half an hour working out which showbags they were going to buy. He got so ‘into’ his planning and plotting (What about THIS showbag?! THIS ONE?! BERTIE BEETLE!) that at one point Keira put out her hand and said seriously,
“Don’t get so excited, dad.”
I couldn’t have said it better myself.
Now excuse me, for I am supposed to be printing off said above itinerary. I’m half-surprised I haven’t also been requested to laminate and frame it.
