This may well be one of the hardest weeks in my career as a mother.
Starts off, after a shaky weekend following inoculations, with Jackson still being curiously grumpy. After five days of Jackson rejecting almost all foods and being downright miserable, I Googled Hepatitis B, just to make sure it wasn’t worth taking our chances and sacking off inoculations for the real thing. But it looks pretty nasty so we’ll brave the next batch of injections.
By Thursday I’ve really had quite enough of all this sadness dragging us down so off we go to the GP. “Doctor won’t do my leg mummy?” inquires my little girl as we walk into the waiting room. “No sweetheart” (I’m officially dreading the next lot of those things!). Turns out Jackson has tonsillitis – almost relieved as that means there’s a chance we won’t have this much upset next month. He’s on antibiotics and should be better for the weekend, which is nice for daddy but I can’t help feeling a little bitter about the fact I’ve had to do the week of despair alone.
Having suffered a week of all the attention being directed at Jackson and on the day when he becomes a little less demanding Minnie decides to give me hell! Attitude, stick waving at friends in the park, repetitive use of “no” and “go away”, insolence and blatant cheek have been my Friday. Eventually, after a horrific trip round the supermarket ending in a defiant (she looked me right in the eye when she was doing it) weeing on the floor, I lay down the law, explain her behaviour has been shocking all day and her attitude needs to change. After a pretty stern telling off she replies calmly “yes your majesty” – I knew ten episodes a day of Ben & Holly’s Little Kingdom was going to back fire on me.
Our day ended with Jackson crying all the way to the cot, Minnie going to bed with absolutely no TV and me and Gareth ordering pizza in. Please please let next week be better.