Who wants to join my rollercoaster?

This past week has been just that: a roller coaster! Highs and lows, stomach churning moments, heart in your mouth moments, exhilaration.

It all started on Friday. Mr Foodie had been invited to a stag night in town. So it was a girl's night in for Marie, Noelie and myself. We had it all planned out. We were going to have a party. In our house, a party consists of snacks and a drink (Coke for Marie and a nice glass of wine for myself). While I was getting Noelie to bed, Marie carefully laid out the snacks on the table. We then proceeded to watch 3 episodes of Glee. I have to admit we are all Gleeks in this house. We usually watch the episode and record it before allowing Marie to watch it (just in case!). With the sun shining and busy weekends, she was 3 episodes behind. So we decided to catch up. We spent the evening singing, dancing, laughing and cuddling on the sofa. Then, we went to bed and watched the end of Night at the Museum, cuddled up in bed together. The perfect evening in with my girls (although Noelie was asleep!)

Saturday was another busy day, involving a trip to Ikea to check out some furniture for our new house (we're moving in on the 1st of July! Yeah!). I am extremely proud to say that I managed to go to Ikea and not buy anything at all. Nothing, Nada, Zilch, Rien. Not a thing. Not even a tiny little gadget for next to nothing. It took a superhuman effort on my part. I just figured that there is no point adding to the long list of things we need to move. I will take a trip down once we are settled. There are plenty of drawers and presses to fill in our new kitchen!

Sunday was decision time. Marie was going to her father's and he was to inform me of his decision on the new access proposal I had drawn up. He wasn't there when I dropped her off in the morning. So we had to wait until pick up time. The day was spent trying to figure out anything he could object to or request. And how far we would be prepared to go to see the proposal accepted. I was quite nervous. Although he could not do anything to prevent us from moving, he could potentially put a big spanner in the works by not agreeing. So what did he say, I hear you shout. Well he agreed to it! His only problem was with a small detail that we had anticipated and had figured out an alternative for. A wave of relief washed over me and Mr Foodie. Isn't it funny how people surprise you sometimes? We were expecting him and his family to be quite awkward, difficult to deal with and expected them to probably try and bargain more access than I offered. After months of animosity and 'fighting', it looks like things are starting to settle down and we might be able to communicate and agree on some things. We will never forget what they put us through, we will never be friends with them. But we can do amicable and reasonable.

It turns out the most difficult person to deal with, when it comes to the move, is somebody we thought was our friend which we made a point to go and visit over the week end too. The whole time of the visit was spent ignoring the elephant in the room. Nothing was said about the move but it was there, like a wedge. Maybe it's just me reading into something that's not there but Mr Foodie felt it too. The subject was just completely avoided. It was quite disappointing but, at the end of the day, like a lot of you kindly commented last week, it's her loss not ours.

Monday was to say the least unusual. We woke up early enough and let the cat out as we do every morning. She came back 5 minutes later, triple her size. We tried to find a vet but, being a bank holiday Monday, the only option was the Veterinary clinic on the other side of town. So off we went, kids and kittens in tow to the clinic. The vet had never seen anything like this before. It turns out that somehow, without any sign of trauma, air is getting under her skin. Trust us to find the only inflatable cat in town! She stayed in the clinic for the day and they managed to deflate her a bit (not a very clinical term and one that nobody seems to be able to say without holding their laugh). We picked her up and her kittens in the evening. And went home. At which point, Noelie started to develop a fever. We gave her Nurofen and she settled for the night. She woke up a few times during the night and got up on Tuesday morning with a fever again.

We had to take the cat to the vet again in the afternoon as she had re inflated. Noelie was getting increasingly difficult. She ate a lot less than usual, was irritable and her fever came back. So off we went to the hospital to get her checked out, thinking it might be another kidney infection. Thankfully, her sample came back clear and it seems to be only some kind of viral infection. Let's just say that we were all exhausted yesterday having come home at about 1am from the hospital. Noelie was not the best yesterday again. Her temperature was going up and down. She was not hungry, which is quite unusual for her since she would eat anything anytime of the day (a firm favourite seems to be the fallen Cheerios from under the table! What? Do you think I had the time or energy to hoover this week end?). And she managed to get sick in my top of all places. Not on herself, not on my top but down my top. Bras are great at catching sick falling down your top. Forget about crumbs, sick is the way to go. Mr Foodie, who was in another room at the time, did not understand why I was shouting that I needed a shower at 4pm!

After that, she settled and later on managed to eat some toast and drink her bottle and even go back to her usual self. She slept great and woke up with a very mild temperature this morning. She had breakfast and it stayed down, she went for a nice long nap and managed to eat some soup and another bit of toast and it's still there in her tummy. Her temperature hasn't returned. Hopefully, it will not come back. She is fast asleep as I type this but I have to wake her up to go and pick up her sister from school. And the cat is still inflated...

Such was the roller coaster of my life these past few days, anybody care to join me?

An unusual week!

It's been such a week!

Marie came out with a mystery 'illness' the past week. She came home from Noodleland (that's her father's to you and me) 2 weeks ago with her cheeks bright pink. Not healthy, too much running around, rosy cheeks. More of a neon bright pink. It wasn't make up either. It wasn't a rash, she wasn't feeling unwell, it wasn't anywhere else on her body. She just had bright pink neon like cheeks. I did a bit of research on the Internet and talked to my mum. A few options came up. Something called roseola which is a minor childhood disease that 90% of adults have contracted as children but might not even know they've had it. It usually starts with a mild fever a few days before but we didn't see her much in the days leading to the 'neon cheeks'. She had stayed with Mr Foodie's mum and dad for a couple of days as school was on half term, then she went up to Noodleland. She was at home and school for a couple of days but never complained of feeling unwell. She had the usual energy levels. The only thing we did notice is that she kept bumping into things and falling over. On the best of days, she is not a graceful child. She does have a tendency to be clumsy and bump into things etc. But it seemed that for a couple of days she was clumsier than usual. We never thought much of it though. And then the neon cheeks came up. And went after a couple of days. Strange. Then, on Sunday she came back from her week end in Noodleland with red marbled looking arms. Again it wasn't a rash, it wasn't anywhere else on her body. Just red marble effect arms which stopped at her tee-shirt sleeves. It was like seeing the veins in her body but instead of being blue, it was bright red. It wasn't itchy, she wasn't feeling unwell. I took her to the pharmacy and the very nice lady there confirmed that it did look like an allergy but that it would be quite difficult to identify what caused it since it is allergy season, with pollen, grass etc.

Allergies are not uncommon on my side of the family. I am allergic to soap on my face. My mum is allergic to the sun ( which is quite ironic when you live in the sunny south of France). My dad is allergic to...well... to something that causes him to suffer asthma attacks. He was tested for all the common allergies and the results came back negative. His only option was to travel to Paris to get checked out more by a leading specialist but it was too time consuming and he never bothered. His opinion: 'I'm allergic to work.'. The doctor didn't seem to agree. And Noelie, well, she is allergic to strawberry which causes her to break out in a rash across her forehead. So, I believe she hasn't been spared and is also an allergy sufferer. It is now gone. Another mystery.

We have also tweaked Noelie's routine this week. She turns one in a couple of weeks. Since her last visit to the hospital, she wasn't drinking enough to my liking. She would leave half her morning bottle, refuse to drink water, juice, formula during the day and would also refuse her evening bottle. I was getting a bit worried as she, more than anybody, needs a lot of fluids. She needed to drink to get rid of her kidney infection and to prevent any more. So I took a drastic step, some parents would probably call it a crime, as would some experts. I took her off the formula. Yes, I did. And filled up her bottle with cow's milk. (I can hear you gasp in horror). Not watered down cow's milk, not even gradually. I just went for it. I was at a loss, she doesn't like water, she doesn't like juice, she wouldn't drink her formula. But she had to drink something. Well, after a day getting used to the taste, she now drinks her full bottle in the morning and the evening. She also drinks a lot of it during the day. So, you know what? Call me a bad mother if you wish, I don't care! It works for us, she drinks the fluids she needs to prevent more kidney infections, and she likes it. She eats very well too so I am not worried about other nutrients and vitamins. So, I'm glad to say bye bye expensive formula, welcome cow's milk!

We also changed her daytime routine a bit, especially her nap times as she was more and more unsettled since the infection. We have always been very lucky that she was in a routine that suited all of us. But the past week had been a bit difficult. She was not sleeping as well as usual. Thankfully, the changes we have made seem to agree with her and she is now a very happy, settled baby, crawling around, standing up and talking away. She added a few words to her very limited vocabulary so far. She can now say Hello/Allo (not sure which yet but they have the same meaning anyway!), chien (dog) and chat (cat). She will probably develop her vocabulary a bit later than other children anyway since we are raising her in a bilingual environment and she needs to learn 2 words for the one thing. Or is that just a myth? Anyway, I am delighted to see that she can understand both languages. Marie also seems to be catching up on the years I didn't speak french to her and is learning nursery rhymes in french.

On another note, the family just got bigger again. Our cat Nama gave birth to 3 kittens this morning under our bed. We had noticed her getting gradually fatter the past few weeks and had guessed that she was probably pregnant. And indeed she was. We have decided to keep one of the kittens and give the other ones away. Mummy and babies are doing very well!

A mother bear's instinct.

It's been a long week. We got a lot done. I (finally) got Noelie registered in the French embassy. I got Marie's 'first big girl's' haircut. We went to a communion. We went to the hospital.

For a few days, I had a feeling that something was not quite right with Noelie. Call it a mother's instinct. There was nothing wrong with her. She was in great form. Crawling around, talking, clapping her hands, singing. Feeding well. Yet, something at the back of my mind was telling me that something was not quite right.

Friday, as opposed to the previous days, had been a quiet day. Until about 7.30 pm, when Noelie developed a high temperature. We gave her Nurofen and a lukewarm bath (in which Mr Foodie jumped fully clothed as apparently, 'it's easier to splash with her that way'). We brought the temperature down. She fed well, went to bed. We kept an eye on her during the night and she was fine. She slept well.

On Saturday, we had planned to go to Waterford for Mr Foodie's godson's communion. Noelie had a bit of a temperature in the morning. But it had gone so we decided to go down. It all went well but by 1pm, her temperature was back up. So we left early and made our way back to Dublin. At 6pm, her temperature was going up still. So we decided to bring her to the hospital.

Back in October, Noelie was admitted in for 3 days as she had a a UTI. And this time, the signs were the same. High temperature that came and went. A little cough (probably unrelated but still). Still herself and otherwise in great form. Nappies that were not as wet as usual. So we made the decision to go and get it checked out. Just in case.

We got there and she was admitted into the A&E. A nurse came over to check her out. She took her temperature that was still a bit high, checked her for rashes. Asked us the usual questions, checking for allergies etc.. Noelie is allergic to strawberries. It gives her eczema. And, what a surprise! The nurse came back to us with a syringe full of, yes, strawberry Calpol. We asked her for something else as first, Noelie doesn't like Calpol, and second, even though it is only strawberry flavoured, it still causes her to break out in a rash. Since there were no visible signs of anything in particular being wrong with her, we were asked to provide a urine sample. As the mother of the 2 year old little boy who was in the bed next to ours found out, it is not an easy task. Her little boy peed everywhere but in the little cup, not once, but twice. After a while, we did manage to get a few drops of the precious liquid in the cup and dropped it at the nurse's station. We got talking to a very nice health care assistant who informed us that she had sent the sample to the lab since it looked like Noelie had yet another UTI. All we could do now is hope that they wouldn't keep her in again. At 9.15, Mr Foodie went over to the nurse's station to see if the results had come back. Since that first nurse, nobody had been in to see us. The results had come back and she was being released with a prescription for antibiotics for the next week. So at 10.30 pm and after a well deserved detour via McDonald's drive through, we finally got home. Noelie went to bed and slept well and her temperature didn't come back until morning.

You would have thought that we had a bit of common sense and that we stayed at home and looked after our baby yesterday. But no, not us. Since her temperature was down, she was in good form and she had received her antibiotics, we decided to take a trip to the seaside. All of Mr Foodie's family had congregated there. It was also the first outing of the new baby. For those of you who are wondering, yes, they did call her the double barrel name that sounds incredibly like Noelie's real name. Arrrghhh. I did make a quick comment about it and left it at that.

At best, I'm a mother bear. It gets worse when my cubs are not feeling too good. And yesterday was a real test of my diplomacy skills. I think, at the best of times, people give the girls too much attention, especially Noelie. Comments such as 'she's so advanced for her age' etc make me grind my teeth. Our girls are not perfect. Our girls are average. Yes, they are advanced in some skills yet they are behind in others. I believe in praising the children, when they deserve it. Marie is 7, she is past the age of the 'good girl' for everything. She gets praise when she does something that is either out of her comfort zone, or she gets her homework right, or something a bit difficult for her. She doesn't get praised for picking up after herself, she gets a thank you. She gets recognition and encouragement and praise. Because in the real world, you don't always get recognition, let alone praise. I probably sound like a hard mother. I'm not. She receives praise and recognition and encouragement on a daily basis. I'm incredibly proud of my girls. I just don't like them to get too much attention and rewards for nothing. I don't believe that my children are better than all the other children (well sometimes), I don't believe that the sun shines out of their you know what. But that's just me.

As soon as we got there, Noelie was whisked away. She was pulled in all directions (metaphorically of course). 'Are you coming to me', 'Clap for X, Y, Z', 'Give us a smile', 'Are you giving me some?', 'Give the baby a kiss' were fusing, all at the same time, all by different people, who all knew that she had spent 4 hours in hospital the evening before and that her little body was fighting an infection. Despite all that, they were still asking her to perform. I felt like putting her hat in front of her. Give the monkey a penny and she will perform a trick for you! We thought that the new baby would 'deflect' some of the attention away from her. It didn't. We thought that people would understand that even though 'she looks in great form', she is not. They didn't. I felt like telling them to leave her alone, give her some space. She does not need anybody literally in her face when we are trying to feed her. She does not need anybody, trying to get her attention when we are trying to get her to drink the fluids that will help her flush away the infection. She would happily sit in her buggy and watch the world go by. She does not need to be asked to perform. She is not a performing monkey. She does not need 10 different people trying to get a piece of the Noelie cake, trying to hold her, trying to get her to say things, trying to get her to clap her hands, trying to get her to come to them. She needs space and peace. I was quite uneasy, so was Mr Foodie. All we could do was stand back, relegated to the back of the crowd while our baby was being taken over, while everybody was getting their little piece of her. After an hour or so, we made our excuses and left. We talked about it and we both felt the same way. Since it is his side of the family, I don't feel like it is my place to say anything. It's not really fair on him. I don't want to sound ungrateful. They are all caring, nice people. I am sure they don't realize that, sometimes, they just take over. I know it will be difficult. We don't want to fall out with people, we don't want them to take it the wrong way. But all we would like is just a bit of space for her and for us, time to get settled when we get there, without her being taken over, being whisked away, having people in her face asking her to perform. Even on a normal day, when she feels good. Unless they ask, unless we ask.

Have you ever had to ask people to 'back off' a bit? How did you approach it? Or are you just glad to go along with it?

We have lift-off but I'm stranded.

No, before anybody gets their hopes up, I'm not talking about the ash cloud. I just couldn't resist the bad joke. I'm not being mean, I am myself affected by Mother Nature reminding us that we are nothing compared to her. My cousin was meant to come and visit for a week on wednesday and as things stand, it doesn't look like it's going to happen. I'm glad we didn't tell Marie and had planned it to be a surprise for her as she would have been very disapointed.

What I mean is that Noelie has finally found a way of moving around. A rather unusual way, but it seems to work nonetheless. After a few weeks of endless frustration, she is finally able to get herself from point A to point B (but not too far). Has she started to walk I hear you say? No. Is she bumming her way around the place? Nope. Crawling then? Wrong again. She is not walking yet, despite really really wanting to. She doesn't bum around, she doesn't crawl. She has mastered a quite surprising technique that I had never seen before. She spins her way around on her belly, pausing sometimes to lick the floor before resuming her travels. Not quite the fastest way from A to B, not quite the direct way from A to B but it works for her. It does help to ease her frustration a bit. And mine. She has been coming up in leaps and bounds in the past week, with 2 more teeth making their appearance, pretending to be on the phone and adding a new word to her vocabulary. Who would have thought that one of her first words would be 'poo' in french?

On another topic, in solidarity with the thousands of travellers stranded everywhere around the world, I have decided (unconsciously) to strand myself in town this morning. After dropping Marie off to school, Mr Foodie and myself (and the baby of course) made our way into town. Mr Foodie had some very important union related business to attend to and we had decided that I would spend some time in town until he was finished. In the car, I asked Mr Foodie for the Starbucks card, so I could go and get myself a lovely cup of coffee and abandon myself to one of my favourite activities, people watching. After dropping him off ( I think I'm going to open a taxi service, what do you think?), I drove to a car park, took the ticket, went up and up and up and up looking for a space. I finally found one and parked. I took the buggy out etc. And went to put the ticket in my wallet. Only I couldn't find my wallet. I had forgotten it at home. I frantically sent a text to Mr Foodie, hoping that SuperFoodie would be able to help me somehow. No luck, his phone was already off. I didn't have a penny on me, no debit or credit card, and no Starbucks card either as he hadn't given it to me earlier. Nothing at all, not even to pay for the car park, let alone go for a coffee somewhere. So I walked around town for about an hour. I nearly laughed when a homeless man asked me for spare change because at that precise moment, he probably had more in his cup than I had on me. I sent a text to friend of mine who works in town, maybe she could lend me some money. It was her day off. So here I was, stranded in town. I took the opportunity to walk around Brown Thomas, knowing that since I didn't have a bit of plastic or cash on me, I wouldn't spend anything (on a normal day, I just avoid the place altogether, it depresses me to see all those lovely things that I can't afford). I went into some other shops, found lots of lovely things that I couldn't buy of course, even if I could afford it. Eventually, I had a brain wave. My passport was in my bag! I don't usually carry my passport around with me but having needed it sometime last week, it was still there. So I took myself off to the bank and withdrew some money. I could at least have that cup of coffee I had been dreaming of since the morning. The ultimate irony: at the exact moment I stepped out of the bank, my phone rang. Mr Foodie was finished and on his way to meet me. So the lovely epicurean morning I had dreamt off was never to be. Ah well, maybe next time?