At the end of the last Birthday Post for Nugget I made the joke that by the time the I finished posting that rant it would be her third birthday.
A silly joke about how time flies when you're having kids.
Well I blinked and here we are now, Nugget has turned three.
We've gone from having a hilarious two year old, pottering around the house and babbling away to us, to having a three year old that not only babbles but has imaginary friends and never shuts the hell up.
I mean seriously. From the minute she wakes up she talks. I am nearly sure she talks in her sleep, just at a slightly slower speed to day time talking.
But the difference between a two and three year old is amazing. Sure she could talk and do things, but in the last few months we noticed big changes. She knows what she wants and can be pretty damn vocal if she doesn't get it. She wants to be involved in the raising of Jellybean. Holding him, feeding him his bottle, jumping out of bed at the slightly cry to console him. It's equal parts cute and a pain in the ass. The last thing you need the toddler waking the baby when you are downstairs.
I can't be arsed doing all the walking.
But, knowing full well that everyone says this about their kids, she is bloody amazing. We got her a bike and it took six seconds for her to figure it out. Sure it has stabilizer, but peddling and steering is no problem to her.
I could go on and on but I won't, because she will eventually read this and her ego is bad enough at three without needing to tell her more.
Happy Birthday Nugget, you amazing ball of madness. Never change.
I posted a rant a while ago that one of my friends described as lots 'whine with no cheese'. It was a rant that told the tale of all the crap that had happened since Jellybean's arrival. There was a lot of shit had gone on. While the rant was not meant as a 'pity me' sort of entry, the joke from the friend was apt. It was just a lot of complaining, other folk have things much worse in the grand scheme of things. The main purpose of the rant was so, in years to come, when the two kids were complaining about how tough their life was, I could call it up and show the ingrates what had happened.
Anyone wanting to refresh their memory of that rant can read it here.
But now sit down and let me tell you a tale of woe. A follow-up to the story of chaos.
It's whine and cheese part two ya'll!!!!!
Recently we've had some more illness in the house, nobody in the house was spared. The ladyfriend spotted it happening in me before I did. She asked if I had a migraine, even though I didn't, and said I looked off. I woke up the next morning with a dreadful chest infection, bad enough to make me take a sick day. Something I rarely do. To bring in the fun and games, the ladyfriend was struck down as well. Although she displayed some other symptoms that I didn't. Off to the doctor she went. Turned out she had, in the middle of Summer, caught pneumonia.
This was the start of our fun. Both of us were pretty tired from a few weeks of shitty sleep due to Jellybean deciding to audition for X-Factor every night at 2am for an hour or so. Piling all sickness made us feel a whole lot worse. Nugget, never one to be left out, then started coughing. Turns out she had a chest infection as well.
In a toddler this is bad. In Nugget, with her underlying lung issue, this becomes real bad real quick. Her croup flared up, meaning lots of barking coughs and no sleep for anyone.
Jellybean remained healthy, the little shit.
Nugget's coughing got so bad that ladyfriend had to bring her to an out of hours doctor at 3am, to get prescribed the stuff we usually do to help clear up her croup.
Jellybean then decided to start rolling. This is great, it shows he is developing well. Except he did it while on the sofa, onto the floor. Head bang, ladyfriend panic, off to the children's hospital she goes. Full of the guilts as well, which she shouldn't have had since I reckon the baby was basically plotting this all along.
So far, so fun. I mean kids, right...
Course when Jellybean started puking a few days later we had to worry about whether or not he was concussed from the fall. There was a lot of puking, a lot. Ringing the doctor meant we were given t he advice of bringing him in. To check everything out. Another trip to the hospital. At this stage we've used the Nanny Babysitting Services a few times to look after Nugget. What's one more time, right?
In the hospital, turns out he isn't concussed. Fantastic news. However he has a viral infection.
What's the worst that can happen?
Roll on the next morning when myself and the ladyfriend both wake up with the viral infection. Talking to God on the big white phone, firing out of all ends. The sort of stuff you read in the Old Testament.
It was fun.
Nanny Babysitting Services rocked in again, taking the kids away so we could suffer in silence. Twenty-four hours later we got over the worst of it. Except Nugget now had it. We collected her, left Jellybean with Nanny, and nursed the little one back to health. Then Nanny was struck down, but she is an odd lady. Said she was happy to do it all again if meant helping us out.
Family are strange. We're grateful for that in ways words can never express.
Then we move along a few days, nothing happened. Except today the ladyfriend wakes up feeling horrible. Off to the GP, who then sends her to hospital. Turns out the pneumonia hasn't cleared up and is now even worse. A night stay in the hospital, on a trolley in hall, is her reward.
Just to give you all a timeline for the above...this is all the last nine days.
I'm sorta wondering where we go from this. How do you take eleven in the shitstorm stakes and raise it?
With any luck the ladyfriend will be sorted after this visit and we can get a bit of a breather. But I think the universe has other ideas.
It always does.
That's an end to another Dublin Comic Con and it turns out this year was my best one ever. Four years going to the con as an exhibitor and this was definitely the most enjoyable of them. In my first year I sold out of all stock before the end of the second day. By all counts that is a great first con and no mistake. Except I brought only twenty-five books along
This year I sold the princely amount of forty-two books. Forty. Two. That's forty-two copies of books I wrote floating around out in the wild now for people to read. I had new customers, return customers, hesitant customers. Customers, that's the main thing. Me, a simple indie author, had people coming to his table to buy stories he never dreamed people would read outside of immediate family.
I'm sitting here, typing this, sipping on a fine single malt whiskey as celebration for the success of this weekend. Even if the second day was somewhat slower than the first, it didn't hamper the amount of books sold at the end of the day.
I have to give a nod to the Head Artist Alley person, for want of an official title, Sharkey. I think it was a new role bestowed on somebody this year, but the guy was great. Checking in on folks during the weekend to see how they were doing and if they needed any help with anything. Running around in the morning on both days to make sure people were set up and ready to go. Hell I even have a fantastic piece of artwork to add to my growing collection. Basically he is an all-round gent.
Roll on next year is all I can say I guess.