This camel's back is gone...

In the comments box on my last post, Pig in the Kitchen - a very wise blogger - asked if Law of the Universe 327 had 'swung into action'. She wrote that this Law states:

'When your partner is away - and especially if he is in a different time zone - the chances of you having to deal with an ill child increase dramatically....'

She was half right. It's actually Law of the Universe 328 that has come into force - the one that refers to 2 children getting ill at the same time.


We had a rough night last night. Boy #2 was coughing - a lot - though did not have a temperature, and Boy #1 had a couple of nightmares. These are not nightmares that you or I might have; the sort that involve falling off buildings, or being chased by who-knows-what, though. These nightmares are, if you are a mummy finding it difficult to get to sleep in the first place, the kind that wear thin after a while. The ones that involve your rushing to your child's room with your heart in your mouth, only to be faced with said child lying there resembling nothing so much as a little Pasha, saying: "My blanket's creased, mama. Can you fold it for me?"

So anyway, by the time this morning came, we were all three a little frayed at the edges. (Well, actually, I was rather coming apart at the seams...). But, they both seemed fine, so I dropped them at nursery as usual - with an aside to Boy #2's nursery teacher that if she had any concerns she should call me immediately.

Then, rather than heading for the gym followed by a fun-packed morning of supermarket shopping, laundry, tidying and admin as had been my original plan (and how I justified my un-showered and tracksuited state to the much yummier other mummies when I dropped the Boys off), I went home to bed.


Well, if you could, you would, right?


Not before I had put the phone on my bedside table though - just in case, you understand. This wasn't ideal, of course. It meant I was disturbed a number of times; most notably by Mother-in-Law claiming I'd called her - again. She really should learn how work how her mobile properly, but of course I was polite. Couldn't have her guessing I was tucked up under the duvet instead of cleaning the tiles in the bathroom with a toothbrush now, could I?

But what I was not disturbed by was a call telling me that Boy #2 was actually not very well, with a temperature, and asking could I come and get him. Why was I not disturbed by this call? Because the less than intelligent administrator at his nursery called my mobile phone (safely tucked away in the bottom of my handbag, and in another room), and left a message there. She did not, as any sane person would, follow that up with a call to our landline. Or even chase me when there was no response. No, she just left it. And then went home half day.

So by the time I got this message 3 hours later, I was actually on my way to collect Boy #2 as normal, and the poor little sausage had been ill at nursery all this time.

Obviously, I feel incredibly guilty. I probably should have had both phones in the room with me. But, leave aside the fact that the nursery has - and use - both of my phone numbers, and both Husband's too, there comes a point, surely, when common sense on their part should take over? I mean, they know me. I've been taking Boy #1 there for 2 1/2 years now. In all that time, if they've ever asked me to collect him, I've been there like a shot. So an unqualified silence on my part in response to a message that one of my Boys needed me should ring a warning bell or two, shouldn't it?

I know, I know. The woman was probably very busy. But we are talking about a sick child. And I would like to add that I'm not one of those high-maintenance mummies who blow up at the slightest thing, like the fact that little Caspar didn't spend the requisite 40 minutes outside because it was raining, or that darling Olivia came home with stories of being given smarties in class. (Believe me, it happens, I know women who do this. But then maybe that's just South Kensington, I certainly hope so). I believe - perhaps mistakenly - that I'm actually quite laid back in my dealings with them. Once I hand over my child to the nursery's care, I leave the details to them. They are being good enough to look after my Boys after all. And yes, we pay them - a lot - but still, they do seem to know what they are doing.

Apart from today.

In any case, the long and short of it was that there was a mess up, and Boy #2 now has a temperature of 39 deg C + and a mummy frantically checking every 20 minutes to see if it's come down yet. Throw in an older brother who already had a bit of a cold and is now doing a more than passable impression of a snot factory at full tilt, and what do you get?

Chocolate, that's what.

(And after all that waiting and build-up, the eggs are not even that great, dammit. Well, not after the first 5 or 10, anyway...)