Thing 1, aged 5
The past few days have been a bit of a nightmare. On Monday I was ready to catch up on my workload and make a start on Thing 3's memory blanket using patches taken from her outgrown clothes - I started this tradition with Thing 1 because I had no-one to pass his baby clothes on to and I couldn't bear to part with some items, but didn't have the storage to keep everything.
I set up the sewing machine, and started to stitch. Things 2 & 3 were playing nicely with building blocks, books and barbies (it must've been a 'B' day).
I had just got into my stride, merrily stitching away when suddenly; 'pop!' - something in my lower back went pop, I fell to the floor and yelled for Things' dad. I lay on the floor, unable to get up.
I wouldn't let Things' dad help as it hurt to move. So, lying on the floor, I became a Thing climbing frame and interactive toy.
Thing 2 relished the opportunity to whip out the Dr's bag she'd received for her birthday. She tested my ears, my eyesight, my reflexes. She pulled my tongue out and prodded it, she stuck her fingers in my ears, she prodded my eyeballs, she whacked my knees. I will admit I wasn't particularly bothered as it detracted from the pain in my back.
Thing 3 squealed with delight as she jumped on my head and swung on my legs and climbed over me and back again. Then she took to playing the drum, using my forehead as the drum and a maraca as a drumstick; to give them their due, I will credit them with the fact I managed to get to the settee and sat up.
It was an act of survival that I dragged myself to the settee, otherwise I'd have been leaving myself at the mercy of two small Things.
Not a moment too soon, Things' Nanna picked the three Things up and took them to her house so that we could make a trip to A&E. Oh how I love waiting in A&E. I almost wished I was back being a climbing frame and drum-kit.
I was eventually seen in A&E by a doctor who introduced himself as a dr who 'works at this hospital' (thank goodness for that!) and following some prodding and X-rays, I was duly packed off home to Thing central with a packet of painkillers to top up those that had been injected into my bottom whilst at A&E. A peaceful Thing free night's sleep followed.
Yesterday, I felt a little better. Thank goodness for painkillers. Thing 3 was unusually gentle and Thing 2 was helpful. Things 1 & 2 decided that they were both going to be the cat in the hat from the time they got in from school until bedtime. This did highly amuse Thing 3, and kept them all out of trouble.
Today, was again somewhat improved- Thing's aunty took Thing 3 out for the day, Things 1 & 2 were in school all day. I went to the Drs and got given more medication.
All returned to havoc at Thing Central by about half 3. Things upturned boxes of toys, bickered and bit (Thing 3, that's our biter right there!). Then, Thing 2 came into the kitchen and asked me;
'What are we having for tea?'
I responded that I didn't know and she said that she wanted burger and chips. I told her we had no burgers and so she went and got her purse, pulled out 60p in ten pence pieces and informed me that she was treating everyone to a take-away. That little gesture was enough to nearly set me off in tears (I'll blame the medication for my emotional state) and I scratted about to get together some money to order a burger and chips for her. She can be such a sweetheart.
After tea, Thing 3 was caught hovering around the bin again. This time she wasn't extracting scraps of food, she was throwing objects away. Namely the television remote control. It was thrown into the depths of the bin amongst discarded apple cores and snotty tissues. Thing 2, still being helpful, retrieved the remote control wiped it on the back of thing 3's cardigan and put it away. This buzz of activity set Thing 1 off on a pondering session. He began to ponder why we actually even need remote controls. Questioning the fact that they are most probably actually useless because we can't eat them and we can't wear them. I finally got them into bed, Thing 1 was still chattering away about the uselessness of remote controls at lights off and door closed. He will probably still be chattering about his theories on the necessity of remote controls when he wakes up; so I have between now and then to come up with a definitive reason to provide him with. I'm off the write a list!
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