A fleeting happy face earlier amid the tears and grumps. I've discovered why she's feeling so rotten...looks like she has chickenpox 😔. Poor little thing. The spots only started to appear this morning so there was no clue until now, but she's been infectious a couple of days already and we had no idea. I so hope we haven't passed it on to her little friends. I suppose it's good she's got it so young, but at the same time that doesn't make seeing her ill or juggling looking after her and work any easier. I will probably have to take a week off, except I will have to work when she's gone to bed anyway, as I sadly can't just not work for a week, there's nobody who could cover for me and lots going on at the moment. The worst thing though is going to be keeping her entertained if we can't go out and about. I may go crazy! All tips on chickenpox treatment gratefully received, along with play ideas for indoors!
Today has been a tough one. Emilia's molars are coming through and she is not enjoying it at all. She woke up crying today and went to sleep crying and cried most of the in between. Fridays are our day together and I usually love them but today I was just desperate for my husband to come home and be sad with me at how upset our baby is. We did get out of the house, and she was happy during our dog walk this morning, and for a little bit this afternoon when we met our friends Rach and Evelyn for some shopping (particularly when trying on wellies and cossack hats, see Stories for some very cute pics), but there was also a lot of crying around the shops which reminded me of when we hadn't yet diagnosed her tongue tie and she cried all the time, particularly in one shop where I vividly recall her screaming so loud we practically ran out and I forgot I hadnt paid for a toy I was holding. Mortifying. But the security guard was lovely 🙈. That was such a hard time and I almost began to panic today because I was irrationally feeling like it might happen again, weeks of endless crying to the point where I stopped leaving the house at all. Daft of course, because it won't, but I think I am still a little bit traumatised by it deep down. Tonight is going to involve tea, a good book, and maybe a bath. Because I've got to do it all again tomorrow on my own as husband has gone away this evening for the weekend. I can't complain though, I left when she was sick to go to New York, and he needs time to chill with his friends too. That's not to say I won't be cursing him by Sunday evening though 😂.
Over the weekend we moved the table away from the wall so we could have dinner guests, and rather than it taking up the entire kitchen and being in the way as we thought it would while the front door is still behind the green door (which will become my pantry when the front door moves), it actually suddenly makes the room feel finished, like a proper family kitchen. My style might be a bit eclectic and not everyone's cup of tea - a bit classic country kitchen, a bit rustic, a bit eclectic - but it is perfectly us, and I love having been able to design and build it completely from scratch (this room was a dark dining room with only one window before). It has meant I could have all the features I really wanted, like a pull out bin cupboard to stop my safe-cracker of a hound from scavenging, dimmer lights over the table for romantic meals a deux (with a toddler, as if 😂), big bookshelves built into the chimney breast for all my cookbooks, a mantle to display my vintage kitchenalia, room for my great-great-Grandpa's Persian rug nicked from my parents' attic a few years ago, and pride of place for my Japanese knife collection. ☺ It's still not finished, but it's feeling like home now.
