ailbhe | Molluscs, sing-songs, and light-snoring snoozing

First thing this morning, Rob took Linnea to the doctor to get her Molluscus Contagiosum (warty lumpy things) checked up (tell me I'm not the only one who thinks that's a Harry Potter spell?) and to talk about his various health concerns. Turns out that the best thing to do to a contagious mollusc is to squeeze it in exactly the way you're not supposed to with pimples, blisters etc, so we have that delightful task to look forward to. One of us to hold her arms and legs, one to hold her torso still, and one to squeeze the actual lumps. I see a small problem...

Anyway, then I took her to Rhyme Time at the local library, where we sang and clapped and bounced horsey-horsey-wise and touched our fingers to our noses and toeses and so on. And then we went for coffee with a woman I've met a few times at Rhyme Time, a few times at the local book group (which is on some kind of summer hiatus) and a few times at random. So that was pleasant.

She went down for a nap again today. I'm not sure what the deal is with her sleeping at all. I think maybe we'll record another week, starting Sunday, and see whether she's still averaging 10 hours out of 24. Recording it is as tedious as hell though.

She was asleep. So I finally detoxed the kitchen. It's now reasonably safe to enter, though there was a suspicious puddle under the toaster tray on the worktop. And I have this lovely warm sense of achievement to nurse.

(And I went out in my shiny new-polished old red shoes and I felt fabulous; I am such a fool for not buying polish for them aeons ago. Though of course now the contrasting stitching isn't contrasting any more... but it was always the redness I craved most.)

(And last night I had time for a proper shower and washed my hair and actually really trule conditioned it!)

(And there's a "Friday" What are you wearing?" thing doint the rounds, so I'm wearing an orange fitted tshirt, pale blue jeans, a bright wood and plastic necklace wound several times around my wrist, some fabulous Bravado Designs undies, and tie-dyed orange socks. Oh, and the other new shoes, because I'm wearing them indoors-only until I work out whether they are going to chafe my ankles or not. So far so good.)

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And there's a "Friday" What are you wearing?" thing doing the rounds

Ha! Being recently back from a week away, my "decent" jeans[1] and trousies have only just come out of the wash, so I'm in jeans with holes in, the "Alien life form" T my MiL gave me, and a jumper with hole in it. Nobody hassles you in Comet when you dress like that, hurrah (works for car yards too).
Oh, and remind me not to buy any more Calvin Klein pants - they're pants[2].

[1] I _really_ need to get to Matalan for the 2-pairs-for-almost-nowt deal. I only have 1 comfy pair without holes in the knees.
[2] Sloggi are the pants for me!

oooh, Christopher had that! I'd never heard of it (catchy oysters - presumably because of the pearly balls). I wondered whether he got them from the swimming pool, because I don't know anyone else who had them. Maybe Linnea did too. He didn't like them being needled and squeezed, and he didn't like the surgical spirit going on them afterwards, and he didn't like the plasters that I attempted to cover them up with.

I wish I'd gone to the doctor when the first one appeared. By the time I realised they were (a) odd and (b) not going away, he had a couple of dozen.

That was three years ago. I can see the tiny scars because I know they're there, but they aren't really noticeable.

I'm still waiting for his final chickenpox scar to fade (from last June). I thought at one point that the two of them would have matching scars, but Oliver's faded (being a baby does have its compensations).

I'm wearing an orange fitted tshirt, but the similarities end there. Some long culottes with a flowery ferny pattern on a black background (which have been in *my* possession for 7 or 8 years), a black Regatta fleece, white underwear (BHS and M&S), silk scarf in the same colours as the culottes (hey! the magic is still working!) in my hair, and my lovely gold dolphin earrings which Rob bought me for my first Christmas present.

I have recently started wearing earrings again. At first I left them off because I was constantly carrying a baby, but then I kept thinking that I didn't have time in the mornings and there wasn't any point. Now I make myself choose a pair and put them in (oooh, it takes all of 30 seconds) and guess what - duh - I feel much better for it.

Is that what depressed people do? Not do stuff even though they know, really, that it's what they'd prefer?

LBs

Julie paradox

And there's a "Friday" What are you wearing?" thing doing the rounds

My currently best jeans with only one (patched) hole in (need to buy a new pair, ruined the other pair completely with paint), midnight blue T-shirt with PRAHA and the famous bridge that my best friend brought me from Prague, velveteen top with yellow, red and blue pansies on black over that because it's chilly, purple Donald Duck socks and soft slippers. I was wearing my new blue-green scarf with gold thread earlier today but took it off because it was inconvenient while cooking, then forgot to put it back on again (anyway, it doesn't go with the velveteen top).

Molluscs, sing-songs, and light-snoring snoozing

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pearly kings and queens

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