Sunday, November 18, 2012

Poxalicious

So we've been poxed up, hiding away in our corner of the world.  It's no fun.  The world continues on without us and we watch it go by.  We've had fun too, don't get me wrong.  In fact Ted has had little real awareness of the enforced isolation - the child would be happy to spend all of his days at home I'm sure.  Me?  Not so much.  I'm a social beast at heart, and without a regular social outlet I start crawling the walls pretty quickly.  I haven't been able to do much crafting either (although I did finally make this boxed pouch pencil case for Harriet - she's only been asking for one since about March this year, I think.  Just in time for the last few weeks of school in 2012, huzzah!).







I re-discovered my true force as a fridge chef, too.  This salad was devoured by all and made purely out of bottom-of-the-drawer leftovers.  Those are pan-roasted cashew pieces in the bowl there; sure, they don't look too appetising but I can assure you that dark browning translates into a mighty fine smoky flavour in the mouth.  Mmmm!  Surprise ingredient?  Dill.  Surprise!




Mostly Ted thinks up weird and crazy reinventions of everyday objects lying around the home.  Box = Vehicle.  Drumstick = Projectile. That kind of thing.






In my research I read that a healthy child can expect to have 200-500 lesions.  Harriet did pretty well then, because although they were definitely painful, she would have only had around 200 at most.  And unfortunately the only two lesions that she touched were the very first two that came up right between her eye and nose (before we realised what they were), and they look like they'll scar.  It seems pretty unfair considering her incredible self control.  The child does not take after me in that regard!  I'll pick anything that looks vaguely pink, or raised or different.  Pick pick pick.  Harriet, on the other hand, resolutely refused to touch any of them, despite crying from the pain. 

The result of that pain was extended screen time.  Harriet begged me to put on a movie (well, anything, really) to distract her.  She also quarantined herself to that particular area on the lounge (no-one else was allowed to sit there), a particular blanket and only used her water bottle for drinking to ensure no accidental picking-up of her glass by others.  If anyone out there's looking to establish a quarantine, Harriet's the designer for you.


Ted loved all that extra screen time.  Christmas came early for that boy I tell you.  I retreated to the dining table with many a cup of tea just to avoid that icky feeling I get when I've been watching a screen for too long, and read my e-reader.  Errr.....






In order to break up one of the three 'dark days', I suggested that a rice milk, berry & banana smoothie in the sunshine might be a lovely way to sit and chat together.  Good idea in theory, but the practice ended up with Ted running around like a loon, yelling and whooping up his joy, while Harriet sat crying (nay, sobbing) on the outdoor setting, just begging me to put on another movie to distract her again.  Poor little poppet.




Zoe lent us the Pinetarsol they had from when they went through the pox recently too, which Harriet pronounced "useless".  This was her at the height of her poxiness, but apparently it did nothing to soothe her vesicles.  Safe to say that the inner west seems to be experiencing a lovely little pox outbreak at the moment.  Pinetarsol sales must be thriving.  I bought some Moo soothing cream when I was able to leave the house in my ten days of freedom, which Harriet pronounced "good".  I'm not sure she'd be hired for packaging copywriting any time soon.








The weather did little to help us out, either.  At one point there was a magnificent storm, on the last day where Harriet was truly poxed up.  All day she had been moaning and cranky and terrible to try and reason with (not that I think ill of her for it, just a statement of fact).  Then, about half an hour before James came home, she snapped out of it.  Completely.  And next thing I knew she and Ted were running around naked in a swift storm, laughing and wild and tumbling over in the grass.  It was truly glorious.  And then the rest of us started our own waiting game.  Which is still ongoing.  Blergh.










On the weekend we drove down to a deserted little beach we found in Wollongong.  That beach was a true blessing.  The children went crazy with the freedom, running into the water, splashing around in the rock pools, and...well...Ted was Ted.  As you can see.









And then we got back to the usual stuff.  Harriet reads.  Ted makes loud noises.  The photo says it all, really.  And how I love this photo.







And sometimes Ted becomes other people.  This is him being James apparently (apart from the hat and glasses, I'm not thinking impersonations are his strong point).  I missed quite a lot of groovy styling before I thought to pick up the camera on my lap and start filming him, but I'm sure you get the drift.  My favourite part is when he turns around, slaps the ground and says "Zucchini" in front of our little zucchini patch.  As you do.


4 comments:

jay said...

oh that second clip is hilarious. beautiful shots. mind sending some pox up here? we have yet to have it, i figure the earlier the better.

casso said...

Absolutely! The main problem is adult pox, I'm happy Harriet will never be in the position James and I are in right now.

Also one of the other activities I managed in a freedom day was a long overdue trip to the post office. Embarrassingly...you should have seen the number of parcels.

jay said...

hmm a trip to the post office, should we be excited? so are you and james living in fear or do you have the pox?

jay said...

oh my goodness, yes the fabric is beautiful, thank you but the book and the seeds, too much. oh that book, we were all speechless at the end, we loved it. thank you so much. xx