It’s nice; like strawberries

Last night my toddler threw up in my mouth. Like actual vomit, right in my mouth. I tasted it. Hell, I think I even swallowed it. According to my husband though it smelt nice; like strawberries. Well, I can 100% assure you it did not taste “nice; like strawberries”, it tasted like real person’s very real sick, right there, in my mouth. And do you know what I did? I sat there, I let it go in my mouth, didn’t make a fuss and cuddled Sam whilst he continued throwing up all over me, but I did shut my mouth. It was only really afterwards that I thought about how rank the whole experience had indeed been. At the time all I could think about was trying to comfort my little man, make things easier for him and how it definitely didn’t smell of strawberries. Pre-Sam if you’d have asked me what I’d have done had a fellow human being vommed in my mouth I’d have probably heaved at the mere thought of it, yet yesterday, there I was accepting this new “experience”, putting myself second and actually being fine with it. Okay, so ‘fine’ is probably a little bit of an exaggeration as I did completely freak out afterwards and needed a rather large wine “chaser”, but at the same time I felt pretty proud of myself; it had happened and I’d coped with it. And this made me think; but isn’t that pretty much what we, the human race, just do every day? Something happens and we cope with it! We’re challenged but ultimately; we survive. Despite how we might feel at the time!

Like many parents I feel utter and complete mortification when a toddler “situation” arises and we’re out and about. There are definitely some places I really don’t want to go back to, ever again. I know that I’m probably overreacting, that in reality I’m not going to bump in to the same folks who were there but the embarrassment is just too raw and the memories of horror still too vivid. A bit like beer shame, if I’m being honest, but without the alcohol! Those moments where time stands still, you’ve tried everything you can think of but nothing works and you know that in all probability you will survive but you simply cannot negotiate with a toddler.

Especially in this heat!

Oh the heat! I’m determined not to complain about our wonderful heatwave because I love the sun. Love, love, love it! When that big yellow fireball appears in the sky, I take every opportunity I can to be out in it, working on my tan and relishing in the massive vitamin D hit my body is getting. That is until I had a child. These days the sun fills me with a sense of panic, I spend most of my outdoors time fretting over whether Sam’s wearing enough sun-cream or if he’s too hot, whilst strategically trying to place a hat on his head so that he doesn’t notice it’s there and will actually wear it. I then put him to bed worrying he’s going to overheat or that suddenly the weather will turn and he’ll get too cold in the night, because he’s only in his vest. I toss and turn listening out for him to make any noise so that I know I haven’t inadvertently cooked my child, and if he hasn’t made a noise for a while? then I have to go in and check he’s still breathing. I swear the level of paranoia is like having a newborn all over again.

I’ve decided that whilst having nice weather is great for families to be able to play outside, heatwaves are just not welcome. It’s simply too hot to play in the house, I’m too frenzied to play outside and other than the supermarket freezer section, nowhere else seems to be cool. I’ve tried to create lovely shady parts of the garden for us but of course Sam only wants to play in the direct sunshine, taunting me with his hatless head as I watch like a hawk for the first sign of sunburn. Walking the dog has become a completely disgusting experience too, even though we’ve now started going later, to avoid the heat, it’s still hot and carrying a sweaty toddler across a field because he’s decided he doesn’t want to walk is not a pleasant experience.

And then there’s sand. Sand is not my friend. It’s hard work wrestling with my child to cover him from head to toe in thick, gloopy factor 50, only to watch him make a bee line for the sandpit knowing that, once he enters, some sort of paste will form all over his body, will take forever to scrub off in the bath and end up all over my house. On the plus side though, I suppose this paste could be seen as an additional protective layer from the sun’s harmful rays.

Fuelled by my sunshine paranoia I’ve taken to googling “How can I help my toddler survive a heatwave?” and have been given a whole array of advice. I currently have litres of water in the freezer, ready to create my own air con life hack, all the curtains are closed upstairs and I have a cool cloth at the ready to pop on the back of Sam’s neck, should he ever allow me to do so. I’m becoming increasingly hot and bothered running around, during nap times, trying to cool things down for the wellbeing of my child, when all I really want to do is grab my trashy novel and sit on a lounger, baking.

It was during a googling session earlier today, where after watching a video produced by the NHS and that little ole BBC, I came across a comment from a silver surfer telling all us mamas out there to stop being so precious; her generation had survived heatwaves, without having google to guide them, and they all survived with good, old-fashioned common sense, therefore so would we. And so I thought, you go that woman, you are indeed correct and just like I coped with sick in my mouth I shall cope with sun in our land. With plenty of water, a sun-cream sand paste and a hat permanently in my hand we shall go forth and charge in to the rays. I also kind of figure that this weather will break soon and I’ll have to find something new to worry about, so might as well try to enjoy the sunshine while it lasts, right? Well if that’s the case, I’m off to find my lounger!

Some sunshine games we have enjoyed, when I’ve been brave enough to head outside…

Shadow jump! I’ve introduced Sam to his shadow this heatwave! We’ve spent a lot of time waving at each other’s image and have loved trying to jump on them too.

Butterfly chasing! We’re lucky to live next to a beautiful meadow and see so many butterflies every time we take Pepper for a walk. Sam is loving chasing the butterflies through the long grass – he’s yet to catch one!

Gardening! Every evening before bedtime, Sam has been helping my husband and I to water the plants! He has his own little Sam-sized watering can and actually does a pretty good job! We’ve been paying him in raspberries from the garden!


2 thoughts on “It’s nice; like strawberries

  1. Enjoyed reading this, made me laugh and reminiscence the times when certain boys and girls were running around my garden with the water hose on, squirting each other and squealing (even have pictures to prove it lol) xxx

    Like

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