I thought after 11 months of breastfeeding I wouldn’t get mastitis, however a combination of a long car journey with the seatbelt digging in to me, cutting down on feeds during the day and carrying a heavy bag did the job. I felt fluey and dizzy and had huge lumps in one boob. Luckily I caught it early because it can result in scarring from abcesses and chunks of your breasts being eaten away from the inside. Nice. So all the effort I had put in to start to wean went to waste. I fed him pretty much every hour for a couple of days to unplug themilk ducts and we are back to feeding at 2, 4 and 6 am. I just haven’t got the energy to fight it right now.
Moo Boy has been ill too, he reacted to a wheat cracker and had a week of diareah, fever, grouchyness, vomiting, not eating…..he lost half a kilo. I took him to see a homeopath and that turned out to be a very nice experience. Usually I spend hours waiting in a too hot room with loads of ill people and their horrible, uncontrollable children only to have an argument with the doctor about why I won’t use antibiotics unless it’s a deaths door situation. Instead we spent an hour and a half with the homeopath who asked loads of questions and posted us 2 pills the next day. He perked up the next day. I don’t know if the homeopathy worked or if he was going to get better anyway but I thought it was worth a try.
A week later he is back on form and already I have the knack of pretending I can’t see him when he grabs other kids toys away from them at playgroups. He has only just got to the stage when he doesn’t always land on his head when he falls off something so I am learning not to follow him around all the time. Tricky, and I hold my breath a lot, waiting for screams that miraculously don’t happen. I blink and he is climbing up a slide, or getting his fingers very near wheels, or playing with toys that bigger kids are already playing with or putting crayons in his mouth. It’s time for me to let go of my little baby a bit and welcome in the toddler. Tantrum buds are forming now. He yells and thrashes if he can’t have something he wants, usually the cat food or a computer cable or something equally unsuitable and he has a lovely time playing the ‘out of your mouth’ game with the gravel in the garden. This is the one where I repeat ‘take the pebble out of your mouth’ while he giggles and puts the pebble in. I hate the out of your mouth game.
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