More Millie maladies this week – I was called from work on Tuesday because the girl had the dreaded conjunctivitis.
Never mind that she’s had some nasty diarrhoea for a week – that’s not a problem at the nursery: explosive decompression in the rectal area and subsequent emission of fecal matter is all in a days’ work for those brave ladies at Seedlings Day Nursery. But show them a gooey eye, however, and they collapse like a Jenga tower at a Parkinson’s sufferers social.
Millie’s fine in herself though, you wouldn’t know she was ill until you opened up a nappy; although, she does have some chronic nappy rash at the moment (from the diarrhoea), which isn’t helping her sleep at night.
So we had a lovely day at home on Tuesday, out in the back garden playing with just the tap, a bucket and some gravel. By dinner time she was absolutely sopping wet and half-naked. Just as well the Lovely Melanie was at work, really. 😉
She went to stay with my parents last weekend, while I was at my brother’s stag do in Southampton (about which I’m forbidden to talk – what goes on on the road, stays on the road – I was made to swear).
But anyway, my parents couldn’t believe the change in her: the fact that you can now ask her to do things – quite a lot of different things – and she’ll do them. If it’s what she wants to do.
I thought they might be a bit more blase about Millie’s development, having seen something very similar three times before, but, no, they seem as excited by it all as the Lovely Melanie and myself!
And she’s still picking up words at a fantastic rate. Yesterday morning we learnt ‘shoes’, for example. Even better than that, ten minutes later, Millie was watching me put my shoes on to go to work, then she ran off to her bedroom next door and came back with…her shoes!
And last night’s word was ‘beeping’. Which reminds me – we’re going to have to be exceptionally careful not to swear now, as it only takes a couple of repetitions for Millie to pick something up…
I’m going to Minehead from tomorrow until Monday, for the All Tomorrow’s Parties festival at the Butlins camp there. No babies at all – no one under 18, in fact – and whilst I’m going to miss the family terribly, I’m also going to have one hell of a dangerously stupid time and behave like a crazy fool with no responsibilities whatsoever. Tee hee.
See you when I get back.