Oh gawd. How embarrassing. I mean initially, it certainly looked as though I had the pox.

The thing is, I’m really quite doctor-phobic. I mean, I have to be really suffering to head to the doctor. I was content to convince myself that it was chicken pox. Until yesterday.

Yesterday the sores began to kind of grow and look weird. They were weepy beyond the length of time that Dr Google said they would be. They no longer looked as though they were healing and it just felt wrong. I told Beefcake that I no longer thought it was chicken pox. He didn’t agree. Dr google couldn’t tell us.

The only other candidate seemed to be impetigo. Very similar symptoms initially, similar description but the images that Dr Google provided didn’t match. AT ALL. Really.

This morning the symptoms were worse. Instead of healing the sores seemed to be growing. Consistent with the dreaded impetigo. I got up in a panic. I yelled at Beefy and told him that I was convinced bacteria was eating my face off even if it didn’t look like anything on google images. He wasn’t convinced but took me off to the doctor anyway.

As an aside, have you ever tried to hide ugly face sores with your hair in a room full of strangers without looking like a complete loon? I tried a magazine for a while but it wasn’t exactly natural to be holding it high in front of my face and turning it with me each time I turned to speak with Beefy.

The doctor confirmed what I had already guessed. Impetigo it is. Go on Google it, and give yourself a treat

I earned myself both antibiotic ointment and a course of oral antibiotics.

I don’t think it helped that I seem to have been fighting off Pudding’s chesty lurgy as well as a bout of gastro and one or the other of these have caused breathing problems, extreme dizzyness and a temperature.

It still doesn’t look like any of the pictures on the internet.

It looks pretty bloody awful though.

This is the most embarrassing blog post I have ever had to write.

Instead of some viral illness I am covered in festy bacteria. I disgust myself.

So, there you have it. This is me, admitting that I am a moron, again.

The end.

So, um, yeah. I would post more pictures but I am unwilling to take the risk that someone may be eating or something. I look so diseased now that my husband won’t kiss me. Because he’s not shallow at all. Arsehole.

Admittedly there is a weeping pox sore just above my mouth but I have told him that I actually tolerate worse on a daily basis and I stand by that because boys are gross.

I do look like a rabid, oozing swamp creature. Really, I nearly made my Father-in-law leap away in fright. Not pretty.

Nobody else has been struck down as yet. We are just hanging in there to see if any of the kids break out all poxy. Pudding’s temp has come down today and he appears to be getting better so I am sure that is a sign that they are all going to be covered in pustules in the morning. It’s just the way these things work.

On the upside I seem to have stopped getting new spots and I actually think it’s kind of a mild case of pox. I have seen some photos of people literally covered from head to toe in pox so I think I’ve gotten away lightly. My only issue is that some of mine are so large or have kind of blended together with others and I just can’t imagine that they’ll heal very nicely. I’m going to look pretty interesting for the next couple of weeks. No amount of make-up is going to cover these babies.

Also, who knew that weepy, crusty, itchy, painful spots on your skin would be so uncomfortable? I mean, I guess I never really thought about it before but they really feel awful, actually. Along with my mild temp and slight breathing difficulties I think it’s safe to say I am NOT enjoying the chicken pox.

The outlaws delivered us some dinner tonight, which was nice. Kind of annoying though because if I am unwell then they just assume they should help out because naturally the poor widdle baby Beefcake could not handle cooking for the family while I’m sick, oh no. If he’s stricken with man-flu then they just leave me to it. Bastards. Still, hand delivered take-away dinner that we didn’t have to pay for – I am a moron for complaining.

P.S. When I told Beefcake that I told the whole internet that he wouldn’t kiss me he asked if I would change it if he came and kissed me now – I said I would add this post-script. How funny is that though – he is worried you will all judge him harshly. I’m sure that can be turned to my advantage…

Sorry, we’ve been reading quite a lot of rhyming Dr Seuss in our house lately. Pudding is an addict and can recite a few of the books word for word.

That’s not what we’re here to talk about though, on no.

On Thursday afternoon a weird spot appeared on my forehead. I thought it was a pimple but it behaved very strangely. Eventually it got quite a lot bigger and took on a sort of  “popped blister” appearance.

On Friday there was another one. On my cheek, then later that afternoon one just under my left eyebrow and then one actually amongst the eyebrow hairs. Now, I rarely get pimples, I might get the odd one or two here and there but the thought that I had four or five on my face (and large ones people) was really freaking me out.

The thing is, these “pimples” are sore, dreadfully so, and itchy.

So, I’m asking for your wisdom peeps and have employed my best blurry photog skills in this crisis.

I’ve never had The Pox. This afternoon though, as these spots have been more and more uncomfortable, it seems pretty likely that my run of good pox avoidance is at an end. In fact, just before I sat down to write this I noticed that the forehead one has a twin brother/sister blister that was just a raised red area this afternoon (you can make it out in the photos I just noticed, how nice, a record of it’s birth). I’d love to hear from you all that it is not. This is especially true as poor Pudding has come down with a cough and a temp and runny nose. I hope it’s just some random lurgy but I fear he is about to be all covered in pox himself. Poor baby.

So people, am I poxy?

***********************************

In other news, Rhubarb did very well at Saturday’s regatta. In his first race they were a very close second nearly the whole race and then ended up third. It was very exciting and at the finish there was less than a metre between first, second and third positions so he was thrilled. In his second race he was coxswain in a different boat and they came first! His first regatta medal. He was so happy. He had been feeling a bit discouraged as the first couple of regattas this season had not gone very well. This has shown him how much they are all improving and learning and renewed his enthusiasm for rowing. I’m glad because it is such a fantastic sport for him to be involved in. It is excellent for fitness and there is a great sense of community amongst all of the rowers no matter what year level and all of the families alike.

Nothing.

Some minor things like my vitamin D levels are quite low (spend much time inside immobilised by pain do you?) and my cholesterol levels are marginally high but not actually high apparently.

So nothing.

Nothing at all.

Doctor is convinced there is something the matter with me. As she put it “There’s just too many joints and things that are problematic”. I agree. There must be something.

I have a referral to a rheumatologist. The doctor assures me that there are many more in-depth tests that the rheumatologist will do.

I am not surprised really. I had a feeling that nothing would turn up. I also feel that there is a good chance that the specialist will not find anything and I will be back to square one, in pain and told to “just deal with it”.

I know these are useless, rubbish thoughts. I must pick myself up and go forth to be prodded and drained of my vital fluids with great enthusiasm and an optimistic twinkle in my eye.

Truthfully I am hoping that in the months that it will take to get a specialist appointment I will improve greatly. Beefcake has now decided that I should wean Grub. He is convinced her continued feeding is taking an unreasonable toll on my body. I won’t even consider it until she gets to eighteen, no twenty, months. I would prefer weaning to occur more naturally but if we get to twenty months I will consider it if I am no better. Of course I expect I will all better by then.

I have the flu. I have had a fever for three days. I feel leaden and snot-filled, My throat feels as though I have swallowed a cheese grater. It is making me feel decidedly up-beat. Can you tell?

Beefcake has a job interview tomorrow. Wish him luck.

We have the pestilence.

Beefcake was the first to be struck down a couple of weeks ago and we have been dropping like flies ever since. Actually, now that I think about it, all three boys seem to have been hit very badly. Rhubarb required more than a week off of school, and just returned today. Pudding only really became ill yesterday and is now a shivery, coughing, feverish, dripping mess of snot and watery eyes. It is awful. My poor baby. I have just come off a shift of holding him and giving him sips of his drink while he lays on me, not sleeping, just resting. He says he can’t even move. I am actually a bit worried about him but I will keep an eye on him overnight and make sure he doesn’t worsen.

Poss has had a touch of it, as has Grub and I feel pretty ordinary today but all in all it is the male members of the household who have suffered most. Weird.

Not only is it weird that the boys have all been affected, it is a touch annoying. My boys take their man-flu seriously. Now pudding is too young to really have a case of the man-flu but Beefcake and Rhubarb can certainly milk it for all that it’s worth. From Rhubarb’s need for the sugar-coated pain/fever medication so that it went down his poor widdle gag-prone throat easily* to Beefcake’s conviction that he had pneumonia despite the absence of any pneumonia-like symptoms.

Amidst all of the pestilence, we have continued to work on the kitchen, adding another pantry and a lovely built-in bench height table that Beefcake built. We are all very impressed that he has built something so lovely. Not to mention quite a bit surprised. Even he didn’t really think it would come out quite so well. I spent the afternoon doing some plastering in the kitchen in preparation for the  new acrylic splashback, which should be all made and cut by the end of the week.

One thing I didn’t do today was enjoy the fruits of the large internet shop that we had home delivered to us. The reason I did not is that the delivery truck had a bad crash on it’s way to us the other day. The driver was unharmed, you’ll be pleased to hear. Our shopping, however, was not. They couldn’t salvage it, they tell me. They cancelled our order and I was left to try and schedule another delivery slot. They gave us a small credit to our account to make up for it so I suppose I shouldn’t complain.  I could not get another slot until tomorrow morning  though so I will be waiting excitedly for my shop and hoping that nothing terrible happens to it.

It is rather vital that we receive our shopping soon. I have been resisting the urge to go out and buy things that we need as that will be “doubling up” and we are quite strictly budgeted at the moment. This means that we are close to having to make use of the garden foliage for bum wiping and will be shortly reduced to brushing our teeth with salt. If it doesn’t work out tomorrow I will be forced to admit defeat and go to the supermarket. I don’t really want to do this as I have taken a rather bold step and purchased the entire month’s worth of food. I have planned a month’s meals and drawn up a chart on the wall. I purchased the meat in person so we have all that in the freezer already but I don’t know how many trolleys the rest of it would take. A few, I think. Even with my love of shopping I think I may find buying a month’s worth of food for a family of six a bit tedious. It is just serve me right really that I try to be all organisey and good and end up with it backfiring all over me. The shiny and organised and super-duper housewifeyness was not meant for the likes of me.

*Easily that is, after a fifteen minute coaching and gentle persuasion session about taking tablets (with whimpering, bribery and moaning), despite it not being the first time he has taken them. He was feeling a touch fragile.

I would like to be able to say that today was a brownie free day.

I would, truly I would.

I can’t lie though. Today was not entirely brownie free. I had just one brownie although I am planning that tonight will not be entirely custard free if Beefcake drags himself away from his most demanding mistress (his laptop) and gets his bum into the kitchen to make it for me.

I have reasons, I have reasons.

Poor little Grub develped a fever yesterday evening. My children are very good at spiking bizarre and unexplained temparatures that appear while you have your back turned and then disappear with as much mystery.  Unfortunately poor Grub still has a fever. She has no other obvious symptoms, she is perhaps slightly snotty, her eyes are a bit swollen but there is really nothing  obviously wrong with her apart from a fever and the fact that she will not allow me to put her down. At all. Even to go to the toilet. She has suffered a cuddle from Beefcake a couple of times throughout the day but only for a few minutes. She is not a happy little possum.

In addition to poor Grub’s clinginess and constant breastfeeding (which incidentally meant that I had an eleven month old sleeping ON me all night) Pudding made a late night visit to our bed and insisted on staying. I won’t pretend this is unusual, particularly at the moment, ever since we told him that we were moving he has been making regular trips to our bed and staying. Last night was particularly nice though because he had a little accident in our bed. He hasn’t wet the bed in some time but naturally the perfect time would be in our bed when we already have a sick baby situation.

Now, if you will, imagine that there had been a leaky nappy incident the previous night and you had been too lazy rushed off your feet to wash the resulting dirty linen and what you have is a sheet load (ba doom boom) of uriney washing. The laundry was hip deep with pissy linen and p.j’s. And the nappies were already in the washing machine. Then, for good measure, just throw in the fact that Pudding did not go back to sleep immediately after the peeing incident this morning but instead lay awake in our bed muttering and singing softly to himself while I held Grub and listened to the dulcet tones of the garbage truck trawling down our street and you will see.

You will see that I have been in a shitful mood all day and have had to plaster a grin on my face and pretend to thrill in preparing lunch and caring for the preschooler with a very grumpy and sooky baby welded to my hip because Beefcake has lots of very important and urgent work to do and cannot be interrupted.

This is the downside of having him here all of the time, I fear. I feel like he should be at my beck and call and similarly, his employers feel that he should complete some of the tasks they have allotted to him. Quite the dillemna. Given that we have just bought a new mortgage it seems that the worky things will have to win for the time being. Nevermind, he goes on leave for more than a week as of next Wednesday so I will be sure to get my money’s worth during that period.

Where was I?

Oh yes, brownies and custard. I am deserving, yes?

Well, whoops.

I meant to blog and I meant to blog and I got on my laptop and found I couldn’t focus my eyes. I tried to comment on a couple of peoples’ blogs and had trouble concentrating enough to put together a sentence. I have had a cold. We have all had colds. I have spent the day today still lying about moaning.

I am pathetic. It’s just a cold.

We went to Rhubarb’s qualifying regatta on Saturday. The team he is coxman for qualified for the Head of the River regatta that is on Saturday. Yay. I was soooooooo excited. I nearly embarrassed myself (and Rhubarb) by running up and kissing him as he removed the oar thingies and helped carry the boat out of the water. I managed to maintain  my composure and he is still speaking to me.  I thought I was just a little tired after all the excitement until, on the card ride home, I developed a sore throat. I have been lying about and whimpering ever since. It didn’t help that we had to tidy and garden for a house inspection that took place on Monday and the blasted children seem to constantly require taking care of. It is not restful at all.

It’s amazing how, when you take a little break from blogging, it seems inconceivable that you could find anything to write about. What on Earth could I possibly have to say? Why in the name of all that is purple would I write about nothing and then ponce about the internet letting people know where they can find it? Seems quite odd if you ask me.

I had to actually force myself to open up an “add new post” window and type something. Kind of getting back on the wagon, if you will. I still have the feeling that I have swallowed razor blades and every movement that I make has all the speed  it would possess if I were submerged in wet concrete. I don’t really want to blog but I am scared. What if I stop and then I just put it off for one more day and then another and before you know it I have no blog, no bloggy friends, then where would I be?

I am delirious and feverish – can you tell?