Upset
Saturday, January 23rd, 20101. No Room, No Room
2. The Dormouse
3. Always Teatime
So. Having done five days without The Man and a full week at work, today was my day for Taking It Easy. I woke up at gone 4. Son 1 aged 5y 4m was on my side, comatose. The Man was on his side, comatose. I was in a 6 inch space between then. I extracted myself, went down to the Double Bed and went to sleep. What seemed like two minutes later, Son 2 aged 2y 4m woke up, wailing for Mummy. I waited for The Man to go down. I’d already bagged my lie in. Son 2 howled. Nothing moved. And howled. I flung back the quilt, stomped up around, and yelled up at The Man as I passed the stairs ”Thanks for the lie in.” ”I’m really ill,” a tremulous voice came faintly after me.
I put Son 2 in the Double Bed with me. “Take my sleeping bag off.” I obeyed. “I don’ wan’ go bed. I wan’ ge’ up.” “Mummy wants to go to sleep. I want you to look after Mummy.” I got a kiss. And a cuddle. And a little hand pulled the quilt up to my chin. Like Zebedee, Son 1 aged 5y 4m arrived. He got in the bed on the other side from Son 2. The Man blurred past the door. “I’ve been sick 5 times.” Son 1 and Son 2 lay quietly. Until Son 1 decided to hold Son 2’s hands. Then there was slapping. And tickling. And prodding. And poking. And giggling. ”Go and find Daddy,” I murmered. They went. They came back. “Daddy’s in my bed,” said Son 1. “Daddy no’ ver’ well,” said Son 2. Daddy had a stomach upset. Vomiting. Squits. Daddy decided he’d better stay away from the boys in case they had it. He stayed in bed. Daddy has never had a day off work through illness in his life.
I washed and cooked and cleaned and dressed them and cleaned them and fetched them drinks and toothbrushes. The Man wandered down for odd 5 minutes here and there, counting off every morsel he’d eaten the day before to work out how he got his bug. ”I could have got it from Son 2,” he said. “He did a poo in the bath last night before you got back, and it was very runny.” By lunchtime Son 2 had had it. Hot, sleepy, clingy, with toxic nappies. I gave him Calpol but all he wanted to do through the long afternoon was be carried around by me. All four of us took to the Big Bed to watch Monsters vs Aliens. The Man was in bed and huddled up. Son 1 was in the middle and watched the whole film intently. Son 2 was leaning against me and fell asleep. Son 1 couldn’t resist him. He kept stroking his cheek, kissing his forehead, cuddling him, hugging him…”Please leave him alone Son 1. He’s really not well. He needs to sleep to get better.” “I know but I love him so much,” said Son 1. We sympathised, because Son 2 is a little beauty when he’s asleep. He was eventually wakened by Son 1’s attentions, and I spent the rest of the afternoon carrying him around because he cried if I went more than a yard away. Tea was telly character pasta from tins - I couldn’t make anything with a toddler clamped to my shoulder. Then books, bath and bed. The Man emerged. I left Son 2 in the bath while I went next door to look at Son 1’s molluscum spots (last ones taking forever to go, thank you for asking.) “I don’ poo in the barf,” came the little voice from next door. Indeed he had. The Man looked after Son 2 while I cleaned up. i couldn’t find any Dettol anywhere so I did it with bleach. “I can’t understand what you used to clean up yesterday,” I said. “I had to get this bleach from upstairs.” “This,” said The Man, holding up a greeny spray bottle. “That wouldn’t have been much good. It’s for mould and mildew,” “It says Dettol on it,” said The Man. “Presumably they make it,” I said. “But it’s for mould. Funguses. Not bacteria.” “Same thing,” he said.

