Wednesday, 25 March 2009


Boy #2 has begun to tut.

Not in the Bertie Wooster style, of using it as a word to answer a statement or question he did not approve of. You know, as in: "What do you mean Jeeves, that Great Aunt Maude doesn't agree that the worsted jacket should be worn with the cavalry twill trousers? Tut!" No, more in the style of clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth whenever he feels the need to be dismissive...

For example, this morning, Boy #1's headteacher said 'Good morning Boy #2!" as we walked in.


(Thank god he's already registered and has been accepted at the school....)

Then we went for a cup of tea with a friend. Boy #2 is recovering from slapped cheek syndrome (click the link if you want to know what that is, but it pretty much does what it says on the tin, with the added benefit of high temperatures, a waterfull of snot, and general headaches and bad temper), so is not feeling his best. "Hallo Boy #2!" she said. "Would you like a toy?" He looked vaguely interested. "I have - this - in my bag!" She pulled out a Star Wars figure and handed it to him. He looked at it, handed it back after his inspection, and rather than doing what he would normally do and saying "No thankyou. Plane, please?" you guessed it.


C3PO was not up to scratch, apparantly.

Now, the Potty family are off adventuring shortly. No names, no pack drill, and most importantly no dates, but in the near future we will be packing our bags and heading off somewhere more interesting than here for a short time.

In the usual way of these things, places that are more interesting than central London often have more interesting illnesses as well. So vaccinations were needed for the Boys and I. Namely, typhoid. Having left it to the last minute as usual I was unable to get appointments for us all to have our jabs at the same time, so Boy #1 drew the short straw and had his first on Monday. Boy #2 and I were booked in the next afternoon.

"It's quite a bad one, Typhoid" the nurse informed me quietly as I fished around in my bag for a chocolate lollipop to placate my oldest son and take his mind off what I was convinced would be only a tiny scratch. I don't think Boy #1 heard her but wow, did his reaction bear her comment out. Crying ensued on a fairly major scale. Followed by, for the rest of the evening, very sad behaviour indeed, and theatrical gasping whenever he had to lift his hand from his side or his brother came anywhere near him on the sofa.

Initially I was sympathetic. Well, the nurse had told me to be, after all. But by bed-time, when even putting on his pyjamas provided a performance worthy of a dying swan at the ballet, my patience was wearing thin. It was just an injection after all. How bad could it be?

Yesterday Boy #2 and I had our typhoid jabs. After initial tutting at the nurse, Boy #2 seemed to take it OK, though it's hard to tell through the tiredness, moaning and complaining resulting from his fast-disappearing Slapped Cheek. But me? OW! That arm hurts!!

Perhaps I should have been a little more sympathetic after all. Bad Potty Mummy.

As Boy #2 would say; tut.


  1. So hope the trip is worth the jab.... and have to say I think those going second actually had the worst of it, you knew what was coming ! I am such a wuss I made silent one take the young for their vaccinations, so they had someone supportive rather than me, wreathing, writhing and fainting in coils.

  2. Oh that slapped cheek syndrome was the worst thing ever when my two had it. Eldest son was at school at the time so must have been 5 or 6 and a very solid little boy. He was totally delirious in the middle of the night. No help from the doctor "Give him Calpol and put him in a cold bath." What? Put a delirious, writhing solid lump of boy into a cold bath in the middle of the night, on my own (as these things always are)? I think not. Anyhow, he lived.

    And yes, I hope the holiday is worth the jab. We're thinking of going to Australia this summer - if I ever get around to organising it.

  3. Madly trying to imagine where you need a typhoid jab for and how a little boy sounds who says, "Tut", I have to agree with you that when they get really sick it's alarming and when their faces turn red and their temperatures spike and you are supposed to cool them down in a cold bath, you do have the tendency to feel a slight panic. I remember packing my son in ice cubes, because we could not get his fever down.

    Getting a jab when you're little is always terrifying, no matter what the size of the needle is. The thing is going in you and it hurts and that's scary. I remember being chased all around the large room by the doctor and my mother when I escaped them when I needed a jab and was terrified. I must have been 4 years old or so. I screamed a lot too. it was like a horror film.

    I do fine now, but look the other way.

  4. Once you have a typhoid shot do you need to have it again? Or is it a once in a lifetime vaccination?

    I went to your link because I really thought someone had walloped the little tyke....

    I remember when parvovirus was a huge scare over here. Any sort of parvovirus. Now it is just - well - tut.

  5. I have NEVER heard of that syndrome - and I live in the land where everything is a syndrome. Sounds nasty tho' as do the jabs.

  6. Wait until your Boy #2 masters the single raised eyebrow with added lip curl! Mine has done that with great effect since he was three years old. It's even more impressive now that he's 6 foot tall and the eyebrow rises way over the top of his glasses as he looms above us. Good job I can still stare him out.

    In my not inconsiderable experience over the years, if a nurse (and most definitely if said nurse is my totally unsympathetic younger sister) says it's painful, then hang onto your hat and anything else within grabbing distance!

    Do hope you all enjoy your trip to wherever but more importantly, WILL YOU BE ABLE TO BLOG! You know you can't just abandon us now that we have got you to Number 11.

  7. Ouch! I hadn't heard of slapped cheek syndrome either. Loving the disapproving tuts!!

  8. Oooh - where are you going??

  9. Very intrigued by where you are going. I am sure it will be worth the injections.

    Tutting sounds funny. Littleboy 1 has taken to saying Mummy, you are not my friend. Which is not quite so funny and rather insulting!

  10. Hi TR, it had better be (worth it, that is!)

    GPM, SPS is horrid isn't it? Boy #2 seems to be pretty much over it now though apart from the constant nose production. And if you do go to Aus I have some pretty good tips from our trip last year - drop me a line if you'd like some!

    Irene, your poor mum!

    Aims, sadly the typhoid shot needs renewing every three years. Shame.

    EPM, I'm sure you must have it over there, it's also known as the 5th childhood illness here, after chickenpox, measles etc etc - it's probably just called something else...

    Sharon, I will do my best. I managed it in Aus last year, but who can tell on this trip. Though luckily it's much shorter so I'm sure you'll all manage!

    Rosie, that probably means no-one in the family ever had it - lucky you!

    Mud, Egypt. There. Let the cat out of the bag, didn't I? Not so much though since am sure to blog about it!

    NVG, I get that too. And a variation as well; 'I'm not your best boy any more mummy!' Charming...

  11. For me the vaccinations I had to put my two through was the worst thing about the prep for moving abroad (& ongoing cos of boosters needed). My daughter had 27 all told (incl series of 3s etc)Japanese encephalitis was one of the worst. I always had to go 1st & had to try hard at times not to allow the tiniest wince or wrinkle in my blank expression as needle jabbed in, because my children's eyes were riveted on me for any sign of pain. The dr always used to say "this one goes under the skin so hurts more" (but whee else wd an inhection go?? or "this one is really thick so hurts a lot". It was worse for my boy (aged 6 at the time) because eh knew what was goign on. I agonised ove rwehtehr to sprin git on him, warn him inadvance, give him an hr's warning. Whatever, he was always in pieces about it,it wrung my heart, & no explanations of avoiding deadly diseases seemed to compensate. The ice cream after worked pretty well though.

  12. Hey Potty!
    Does this mean you're coming to visit me?
    (very patient mother...pfft!)
    (oh, and never laughs at other's children being scamps)

  13. Paradise, we use chocolate. That way it can be consumed DURING the injection. It's hard to cry too hard with your mouth full of chocolate...

    Frog, gosh, there's Typhoid in Wales????


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