Happy New Year!

How is your 2008 going so far? Two days in, ours has got off to a slightly bumpy start...

Boy #2 (an infrequent visitor to this blog, though I think you may see more of him in the near future if Christmas behaviour is anything to judge by) has got Chicken Pox. It appeared yesterday, and after we ascertained with the glass test that it was not meningitis (we are nothing if not panicky parents), it rapidly became clear that the dreaded pox was upon us.

Now, it's actually rather hypocritical that I call it 'dreaded', as in this instance I put him in harm's way myself, rushing over to a friend's house before Christmas to take advantage of her daughter's illness, but now that he has it, I'm feeling rather guilty. Boy #1 had it at only a year old, and sailed through it relatively untouched and with only a few spots, but as is usually the case, his brother is doing it bigger and better. I remember when my sister caught it, aged 11. The poor thing looked like nothing so much as the Creature from the Black Lagoon, or some particularly nasty Dr Who character from the 1970's - I'm so hoping that Boy #2 is not similarly affected.

So, it's Piriton and calamine lotion all the way for us for the next few days. And just when he was about to start nursery - tomorrow - as well...Bye bye to-do list.

Which neatly leads me onto the fact that Husband and Boy #1 were waiting outside the nursery this morning at 8.15am. Which of course, since term starts tomorrow, was dark and empty as a gym between Christmas and New Year. Ooops!

And ah yes, the gym. I had an update session booked for today. The first day that the Boys were both back at nursery. Or not... Needless to say, I didn't think that my pox-ridden boy would be welcome in the creche, so that didn't happen either.

Plus, PLUS, I did a really silly thing when it came to Husband's christmas present from the Boys. Can you believe it? I bought him (or, to be completely honest, us) Season 6 of '24'. So of course now all our evenings are shot for the next week. Some people may be able to watch one episode an evening, but it seems we are incapable of any self-denial; last night not only did Husband and I work our way through the 2nd 4 hour session of Jack's exploits (I KNEW it was his Dad - apologies to those of you who didn't), but we polished off the remains of the Boy's christmas chocolate. This is of course why I so badly needed that update session at the gym today. Surely it's possible to work off all those calories in just one 10 minute jog, whilst desperately holding in your tummy so you don't scare off the instructor too much with a wobbling stomach still bearing that little post-c-section overhang? It's not? Blast.

And our phone packed up over the New Year. After my immediate guilty thought that it must be due to an unpaid bill (those student days are with me still), it turned out the handset was faulty and needed replacing. In a fit of organisation, after visiting the doctor to check that it really was chicken pox (it really was), the Boys and I whizzed in to the mothership when it opened at 9.30am (aka Peter Jones - if it doesn't stock it then I don't need it).

After a somewhat tense mobile conversation with Husband about brands and it being on my head if the purchase didn't meet his exacting design requirements (i.e 'if it looks ugly it's your fault'), we bought the ugliest phone I could find and went upstairs to the 6th floor cafe. Here, Boy #1 entertained the troops with his favourite song ('do the right thing, do the right thing, do the right thing') sung repeatedly at the top of his voice, and Boy #2 decorated the window with pieces of flapjack. We then topped off our successful trip with visit to the hat department. It's supposed to snow later today (readers in the US, this is an EVENT in London) and I realised that I had nothing to protect my head from the elements. So I took my trusted advisors with me (children can be so astute in matters of fashion), and Boy #1 and I tried on hats for a hilarious 15 minutes. Hilarious, because I have the biggest head in the world, so buying hats is always a treat - which is why I didn't have one already. Then I realised that the cheap looking faux fur dustbin look-a-like my older son was prancing around in actually cost £100. We swiftly put it back, I bought a somewhat cheaper version, and we left the store quietly and quickly.

So here I am. And it still hasn't snowed.