Ivy sad

Another sentence from Hazel yesterday. When one girl is crying and I am listening to her, sometimes the other girls wants my attention. When that happens, I say that Ivy is sad, and I need to listen to her right now, and we will play or read or whatever, when she is finished. Yesterday Ivy fell off a new play item in the backyard (hint: it has a slide attached), and clonked her head, so of course she cried and I listened. It's a marvellous thing, this listening. After about five minutes of howling, her crying turned to weeping, and then she showed me where it hurt (the back of her head), then where it happened (she fell off a bench in the new cubby). I described what I thought might have happened, she listened to my point of view, and off she went, calm and happy. In the middle of the crying, though, Hazel turned around, pointed to Ivy, and said "Ivy sad". She was right.

We are all a bit sad at the moment. On Thursday night I felt a bit average, and ended up with vomiting and diarrhoea all night. The girls threw up too, for hours in the middle of the night. Miraculously, Trudi did not succumb. She put on a load of washing at midnight, and the washing machine has been going ever since.

On Friday I was a mess - all wafty and miserable. I lay on the couch for much of the day. The girls have reverted to having two naps a day, and so did I. Yesterday I was heaps better, and the girls seemed to be improving too. They played on their new cubby and slide! This tired them out, and in the late afternoon, Hazel sat on the couch in a miserable pile, and said quietly "Sad". She was right.

But last night Hazel threw up her bedtime bottle, and Ivy threw up a couple of times in the night. They are so wiped out that they are sleeping through the night without a peep, except for the vomiting.

This morning both girls were pale and listless. They drank water, and then immediately went back to sleep. When they woke again - more miserable listlessness.

So we all went in to Emergency at the Austin, which is only 5 minutes drive away. The paediatric nurse barked and seemed scary at first, but ended up being very pleasant and solicitous. The girls obediently sucked on the frozen orange-flavoured electrolyte solution, and they ate a little anti-nausea tablet each. We came home with the advice to not worry about food, just water and electrolytes.

All day, the girls slept, cried, shat, slept more, slept, drank orange stuff, and slept. An hour ago, they both got up, and demanded "dikidikidikidikidiki", which is a bickie. Since then they have each demolished a handful of dry crackers, and suddenly seem to be not terribly ill. Hazel walked for the first time all day, and gave a bickie to the toy monkey, and figured out how the dustpan and brush work. Ivy smiled and ate bickies.

Now Trudi is out walking the girls around the block in the pram, and I am having a rest. This has probably been Trudi's worst birthday weekend ever. Because I have been ill, I've had some rests, but she's been on the go the whole time. I'd better go appreciate my rest, and actually rest.