A Spoonful of Sugar

We were on a short break last weekend on the outskirts of Weymouth when no2 comes down with a very high temperature and a series of rotten nappies. While she was a little clingy had it didn't really spoil to much and we were all able to enjoy a lovely time at thanks to a steady supply of Neurofen.  On returning home my wife took her to the local GP, convinced it was tonsillitis, our local GP couldn't make a clear diagnosis from an un-cooperative 2yo who refused to open her mouth, insisting her big sister should be at the doctors instead. A late night rush to the out of hours GP on Saturday finally confirmed that it was in fact a case of Mother knowing best as tonsillitis was diagnosed and antibiotics prescribed.

And that dear reader is where the problems began... 

On returning home from the late night chemist tired and ill, we decided to started the first course straight away. The first bottle prescribed proudly stated 'Sugar Free' and was a bright orange and smelt faintly of citrus. 'No2' took the syringe swallowed a tiny amount then pulled a face 

Ewww. No. That’s Gross. | Gifrific

The remaining 4ml we tried to hide in ice cream, jam, yogurt, jelly, we tried bribes, promise and reason... to no avail, all rejected to the point that she wouldn't trust us to even put her to bed for fear we'd trying and slip medicine in somewhere. In a final resort we tried to forcefully give it to her with a syringe, wrapping her up in a towel so she couldn't thrash around like a octopus trying to be put in a bag. The antibiotics went down for around 11 seconds before they were vomited back up, to bed she went tired and poorly with two frustrated parents.  "How bad can it be?" i asked the wife and tasted a tiny amount. After violently retching several times i vowed to called the Dr's first thing in the morning for something more palatable. 

The 2nd bottle of antibiotics also claimed to be sugar free, and looked more like the contents of a glow stick poured into a bottle, it too came with a taste which was more reminiscent battery acid. Mary Poppins rum punch flavour this most certainly was not... Again this was rejected out of hand by 'no2'. I turned to Facebook and twitter for help, and got several suggestions - Mash it in with Jam; 1/3rd of a jar was not enough to mask 5ml of the noxious florescent yellow stuff. I tried several other ways of trying to mask it, i tried to force it down but only ended up covering clothes and furniture, this was not going to work. 

I called the Dr and we spoke at length about the situation of trying to get Children to take foul tasting medicine, she agreed that it was a problem and suggested amoxicillin the banana flavoured antibiotics i remember from my childhood which while not being ideal might work, it's still not the nicest tasting medicine when it first came on the market 40 odd years ago now but it's still the only one that is adapted for children. 

'No2' is on the mend again, but this episode highlights a total lack of understanding from pharmaceutical giants that having an ill child is stressful enough without them rejecting the very thing supposed to make them feel better. That as parents we could not give a shit about our poor little monkeys teeth, about how much sugar is in the pediatric suspension, or how many e-numbers were put in to make it easier to take.  You can bet that if you could purchase the stuff over the counter they'd all be fighting it out to make them better tasting, more palatable and more appealing to Children. 

The NHS cannot absolve itself either, bad tasting medicine is a false economy i now have 3 bottles of antibiotics in my fridge, surely it would have been cheaper to give us one slightly more expensive bottle 'no2' would have been willing to take?  I know these medicines exist, one pharma' sales manager has already been in contact to say it's not kids medicine is not rocket science and that his company is producing chocolate & orange flavours. 

As for sugar helping the medicine going down, it certainly does, and as it's medicine our little darlings aren't going to be drinking it by the litre now are they? 

  

Russian Roulette

We’re pregnant. Another bun is in the metaphorical oven.  My wife has wandered up duff street. She’s with Child. Whichever way I write this I’m still struggling to get my head around it. Normally this would be a time for excitement, to wish us well, to take joy in the fact of new life. So why do I feel like I've been kicked square in the ‘ gentleman's area’?  Why does this hat trick feel like I've scored at wrong end, two glorious wonder goals before haplessly slicing the ball past my own goalkeeper and into my net?

I expect zero sympathy from you dear reader, it was after all I (well ‘we’) who had all the pleasure of that night, not you. It was me that played Russian roulette with contraception and shot myself point blank in the head.

We’d always discussed a third child, I’m from a big family and we’d always liked the idea of a similar sized family to make things like Christmas and family gatherings that bit more vibrant and noisy. But we only moved into a larger house a couple of years ago, and I still haven’t even finished decorating a single room yet. I’d just be coming round to the idea of just having the two girls, of a faint hope that foreign holidays might be back in a few years’ time. Of sleep that lasts almost 6 hours at a time.  Dumping the kids of at the grand parents and whizzing off on a naughty weekend away with the wife.  I’d even toyed with the idea of taking up golf again or buying family season tickets at the Rugby or football.  All now firmly moved into the no bloody chance file.

So why am I struggling with the thought of having another? Am I selfish?  No probably not. it’s not really my life I worry about. The sex life apart, I don’t need anything of the above including the sleep, I’m one of those people that is eternally content with my lot.  That’s not to say I’m not ambitious I would love to have more money to give me more options in life, but I don’t strive to own more, bigger,  greater things.  I like things as they are. I’m happy.  

But the pressure is firmly on my shoulders. The girls are delighted about the thought of sharing a room, but how long will it last?  Money is tight now, how will it be when there is another little person?  Can we even afford for my wife not to work?  Would we be even better off if she still did? to We need to feed another mouth, to purchase a car to fit three car seats in, to eventually purchase a bigger house so all the kids have their own room while still making sure that it’s in an area that is best for their upbringing… And what the bloody hell will I call the blog if it turns out that number 3 is a boy?

I know I won’t resent number three for the sacrifices the whole family have to make? But I’d love to give the family the best chance in their lives and with that comes sacrifice from me.  Much of this pressure I feel is created by myself. So I’ve decided there is no time sitting around moping about the situation I find myself in, I’m lucky. This is a positive thing, I just need to convince myself of that.

 I’m off to find a new job… just as soon as I’ve booked in for a vasectomy.