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Wednesday 26 February 2014

Powering down

There's a well-known parenting phrase that I've never used - though I've used worse, I'm positive - that goes, "Stop crying - or I'll give you something to cry about."

And so it was with half term. Mr Coffee was away on a residential course; the whole week kicked off with a piece of truly crappy news; and I lost all enthusiasm whatsoever for the endeavour of parenting. To illustrate this, I just looked on my phone for pictures of my week, and all I have come up with is a picture of a crate of Aldi whisky, taken as some kind of price comparison exercise. (I finally wound up with a bottle of Bushmills.)

I didn't cry. I kind of staggered on, fuelled by whisky and some tooth-loosening peppermint slice that Littlest and I created out of icing sugar, butter, dessicated coconut and evil. Mr Coffee finally came home, and whisked away the children so I could sew a skirt and breathe into a paper bag. The weekend rolled around, and there was rest, and by Tuesday all the INSET days were over and it all seemed to get getting back to normal.

All that needed to be done was to wake up the children and get everyone where they needed to be. So I pulled the duvet off of Eldest, and in her attempts to snatch it back she accidentally scratched me full in the eye.

Then I got to cry. I got to go to the doctor in dark glasses and get poked at and get sent home with drops and then I went back to bed where my entire body shut down and I slept for four-and-a-half hours. I call it sleep - it was more like powering down. I got an exciting puffy face. Mr Coffee had great fun imitating me pawing about blindly, and the children got to laugh at me without me even knowing what was going on.

Later that evening Mr Coffee came to bed to watch The Musketeers on the iPlayer. Since I was unable to see, he kindly agreed to audio describe the proceedings, which went something along these lines: "Ooh, there's some fighting. And some blowing up, and some wandering off. Now! That's Whatsherface! Oh, she's dead. Oh. Ooh yes. It's all kicking off."

Today I have only a slight headache and a slightly blurry eye. But I'm much improved. And I'm very much looking forward to watching my own TV now, though I shall miss Whatsherface, and her valuable contribution to the story.


20 comments:

  1. I shouldn't laugh, but I couldn't help it over Mr. Coffee's play-by-play (as we say here in USA) of the film. Hope you enjoy Whatsherface in your movie. Hope your eye is much better today.

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    1. It is, thank you. Though I feel that Whatsherface will not recover from death.

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  2. You poor thing - I'm feeling sympathetic, being as I am on day 12 of wall to wall children. Young son has a raging ear infection with perforated ear drum. I am sympathetic, but also, I want my life back. How cheap was that crate of whiskey?

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    1. Very cheap. And with cheap ginger wine, it's even more of a bargain. I like to mix my whisky with more alcohol.

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  3. good grief woman. stay in bed. drink whisky.

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  4. Oh dear, sorry about it all, although it must have been quite relaxing listening to audio tv. Everything fairly terrible here so I know what you mean about it all. Can't bear to do much, I think I'm going into some kind of cold storage. Even a crate of whisky wouldn't touch it. Sigh. Hope you eye is all better soon.

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    1. Oh I am sorry about the terrible. You have my greatest sympathies.

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  5. Sometimes, it is really good to have a valid reason for going to bed and powering down. Mostly we just stagger on. On the very rare occasions I get properly sick, I'm almost grateful to have an excuse for lying down and leaving the job to other people. Also, Mister Coffee could surely earn megabucks with his visual-to-audio interpretation skillz.

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    1. I do get entirely what you mean about being grateful. Strange, isn't it?!

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  6. Hells bells.
    Having suffered corneal abrasions in the past on a fairly regular basis - I feel your pain. And this HURTS. Hurts when you blink or move your eyeball, which happens 12 zillion times a minute and the pain HURTS. Hurty hurty stingy eye watering pain. And I agree with your approach - sleep is the only option. I always packed my boy off to my Mum for the day and just counted down the hours until tomorrow.....
    Codeine at bedtime was a big helper, and I knew that 24 hours later, all would be well, the eye is a fast healer.
    Enough about me.....
    x

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    1. It's amazing how quickly the eye sorts itself out. Two days on and I have just the faintest hint of blurriness. I'm sorry you had to go through that so often.

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  7. Oh it sounds like a horrible week. I hope your eye heals really quickly. Mr Coffee's audio description did make me laugh!

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  8. Perhaps you should have bought two bottles of Bushmills?

    Feel better soon!

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    1. I do wish I had! Once Mr Coffee turned up again, and I had a friend round for the evening, supplies became very meagre indeed!

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  9. You're right there. I can't tell the Musketeers apart even with the benefit of sight.

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  10. Oh dear... things on the up now I hope!

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  11. ooh nasty, hope eye clears... recommend the Great British Sewing Bee cure... stick your head in a bucket of Gin

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  12. Oh dear not the best of weeks and your poor eye, hope things are on the up now?

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  13. Drink the whisky and forget about the Muskateers!

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