Never Underestimate The Baby Cold

‘Ah poor Pudding’ I chuckled at some point two weeks ago. My little lady was full of cold and kept sneezing all over the place. I felt sorry for her, poor girl was not happy Pud at all. Of course we were all suffering the dramatics of Puddings first real baby cold. She whinged all day, wiped snot in every conceivable place and had us up at all hours. But calpol was dispensed and cuddles were given.

dagon_ / Pixabay

I hadn’t anticipated for one moment that soon all of us would be suffering. Pie got it first and battled through with minimal fuss. Mr Pud came next – a day on the sofa saw him right as rain. Then is was my turn. Armed with my flu jab and an extra boost of vitamin C from my recent orange obsession. I was quietly confident…

Alas! My yet again less than capable immune system let me down. Badly. Now the baby cold is what I like to think of as a bunch of juvenile bugs. Think over excited puppy, as they go whizzing round your body. Bit of a runny nose, half-hearted cough and a few sneezes. Then they fizzle out, unable to take a proper hold. Well at least that is how they operate in most people. However, once they meet my immune system they manage to morph. Suddenly juvenile bugs are grade A assassins. Their only intention is to capture and hold my sinuses. Once they have a strong hold they can camp in there for weeks.

Archbob / Pixabay

What was previously a ‘baby cold’ has now become a sinister sinusitis. The assassins are in and have been holding me hostage for well over a week now. No more hilarity at Mummy sneezing. Oh no, now everyone is running for cover. My patience has been replaced with a constant headache and the inability to bend down. Just to add a little extra to this already less than fun party are some feverish chills and achey joints. (Yeh good work flu jab you have done me a solid here).

Having to admit defeat and take time off work was a low point. But I told myself a few days rest and I would be on it. Well that was 6 days ago. I am by no means ‘on it’. Unless of course ‘on it’ means curled up on the sofa under a blanket surrounded by tissues. In which case I am very much ‘on it’. It is a sign of how bad things have got when the dog has given up stealing the used tissues.

Yet again I underestimated the ‘baby cold’. I should have been wearing a mask last week! It is too late for me, but I warn you save yourself. Those puppy-like viruses and bacteria are coming for you.

House of the Damned: Send More Biscuits

Ah it’s been a long week at Pudding HQ. The current quarantine conditions on Pie post-tonsils are taking there toll. He is not allowed out to mix with other germ infested kids for over a week. In all honesty he hasn’t been feeling well enough anyway. He has moments of forgetting he is ‘under the weather’ He will dash about with his light sabre. Then crash unceremoniously onto my shoulder. Snotting and sliming (yes slime!) everywhere.


To make matters worse Pud’s and I both have colds. This makes for two miserable tired girls. And even more snot… Pudding is still teething. She looks like one of those drooly dogs. You know the ones where they always seem to have it hanging out there mouth. There are seriously a lot of unpleasant fluids at HQ.

Of course Mr Pud is on nights. This compounds the sh*ttyness of the situation. On top of slime, snot and sobbing, I am creeping round the house. Keeping as quiet as possible. Trying to get two children to sleep on sofas. Luckily it’s only the one night so it’s only two days of whispering to endure.

Am sure some of you more yummy mummy’s out there would be embracing having to stay home. Let’s make a cake you would say. Or get the craft box out. Perhaps a spot of afternoon painting… Yeh well bully for you. I don’t bake (that should say can’t bake). I am not about to set up the painting so that my highly volatile 4 year old can lose his sh*t and paint the dog. I hate being trapped in the house.


Obviously I did what most normal parents do. I brought a large packet of digestive biscuits and went to town on Sky Movies. So there we sat. Two days on the couch. I don’t think we even bothered to get dressed. Pie and Pudding didn’t. Pie let off the air raid siren every few hours. I quickly shoved in some pain relief. We went back to our stupor!

When Mr Pud surfaced from his nights I was a Star Wars master, Harry Potter expert and Disney connoisseur. I was also at the end of my third packet of digestive biscuits (thank god for pyjamas). Surrounded by snotty tissues, empty sippy cups and sleeping dogs/children. We must have been a sight!