After blogging about my excitement of spending all the Christmas break with Dexter I caught the dreaded Norovirus. Nature’s way of telling me not to be so smug next time I guess. Whilst the OH was dying from the Flu (real flu, not just the man kind) I was becoming best friends with the toilet. It’s obviously never a good time to be ill, but around the festive break really sucked big festive balls. I was really looking forward to seeing friends and family and spending time with Dexter relaxing. The reality was constant bickering with the OH over who was feeling the most ill (me of course), cabin fever and the feeling of impending doom that we are moving house in a week and the packing is yet to be started.  

I’ve been a complete and u(dder)tter cow to live with too. I’m not very sympathetic at the best of times let alone when I’m feeling like crap. I have been advised by friends that I shouldn’t feel that guilty about my actions though, the consensus seems to be that men are a bit naff with illness and most women want to kill their partners after a few days of ill-health. This being without the added stress of their own illness, Christmas, moving house and of course having a small child to look after. The K-D’s normal recovery period was of course prolonged as we never truly got enough time to rest and recuperate. We had our fair share of babysitting offers though. Some fab friends took Dex to a local soft play centre and knackered him out, others offered to look after him too but I just felt guilty fobbing him off onto others all the time.

The house move is happening next week so we need to be better. We need to stop sniping at each other, we need to eat properly and we need to start thinking healthy.

Thanks for reading

Mummy over and out


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