Bleh.

I can't think of a proper title. Bleh will have to do.

So, had a bit of a funny few days. On the toilet front, more of the same. I have to remember to take The Toddler to the loo (and ignore her when she says she doesn't want to go) or we get "I done a wee wee on the ground". On the early bed-time for The Littl'un front, that's still going pretty well. She now sleeps like a log, because on Saturday I abruptly decided to put her in her own room. Which I feel bad about, because she's not 6 months old yet, and I have screams of "cotdeathcotdeatharrrrgggh!" that whizz round my head occasionally. But we were waking her up every time we moved, which was very often, given that Husband is incapable of getting ready for bed quietly, I am a ridiculously fidgety sleeper, and The Toddler usually has us up at least once. And she'd waking herself up getting her arms stuck between the bars of the really-too-small-for-her crib. And then snuffle for ages while she got herself back to sleep. So yes, she now sleeps much better. Unfortunately, only til about 3.30, when I then have to go and feed her. The words "shot" and "foot" keep trying to spring to mind.

Anyway, on Saturday, The Toddler all of a sudden developed a raspy, Marge Simpson voice, and woke up a few times in the night coughing. She was a bit grumpy on Sunday, which wasn't great, as I was taking her to a Hallowe'en party. She was meant to be dressed as a bat, but ended up looking more like an interpretative dancer, as she refused to keep her ears and wings on, so was just in black with a purple tutu. The Littl'un was meant to be a witch, but I had a bit of a fail with her dress (I tried to dye it black, but it was polyester, so it just went a bit dirty looking), and she had a tiny hat, but it fell of and she was sick on it. I myself managed to rustle up a half-arsed pirates costume, complete with a sword that was made out of the side of a boots.com delivery box, which I gave to The Toddler to take to the car for me, then never saw again. Once at the party, signs started to emerge that The Toddler was really not herself. She kept wanting to sit on my knee and cuddle, and which is always nice because I don't normally get them, but also unnerving, because I don't normally get them. Also, and this is how I knew for certain that she was quite poorly, I put some food on a plate for her, and the plate included grapes, biscuits and cheese, and SHE DID NOT EAT IT. The Toddler REFUSED CHEESE. This is like the DFS sale ending - a concept my brain just can't get to grips with. That night, she turned into a baby seal. Or at least, that's what it sounded like. Actually, it's the cough that goes with croup. And it would be funny to hear your child barking like a seal, if it wasn't so freaky and so obviously uncomfortable. A rough night was had by all. Except for The Littl'un, who slumbered on regardless, got fed, and then had more sleep. Alright for some.

Decided The Toddler should go to the doctors. Phoned them expecting to be told to come in at 3.30 and then sit for hours until someone could see her, which is what usually happens. Oh no, can we come at 8.30? It was 8.05 and all three of us were still in pyjamas, and two of us were covered in baby sick. But I managed it, and, typically, The Toddler was struck down with Washing Machine Repairman Syndrome, and perked up immeasurably. The doctor confirmed she had croup and told me there was nothing she could have for it, but to keep an eye on her. By late afternoon, I was beyond sick of flicking through the channels to find something an increasing grumpy little madam would deign to watch, and said madam's breathing was starting to sound worse, so I phoned the doctor, who told me to take her to the children's unit at the hospital (not because it was deathly serious, I don't think but because it was nearly 5pm and he probably wanted to go home). So we got to check out the lovely shiny and sparkly emergency children's care unit. It has funky orange and green chairs, and lots of toys. 'Tis very nice. The Toddler was given some steroids, and perked up almost instantly and started haring around the room and trying to jump on the beds in a marked contrast to the crying baby in Assessment Room 1 and the boy dressed as a skeleton in the waiting room, who was bleeding from his ear.

And now she is asleep (although I wrote that on Facebook before, and she instantly woke up crying, so I hope I don't break it again). The magic steroids appear to be doing their thing, and she seems much less seal-like than last night. So far. I don't like having a poorly little girl. At least it got us out of the house, so we didn't have to answer the door to teenagers who think that putting on a mask from the newsagents entitles them to my chocolate. We did try putting some sweets outside for kids to help themselves to. Someone stole the tub. Not just all the sweets, the actual plastic Celebrations tub they were in. My street's a classy place.

Happy Hallowe'en everyone!