The cup overfloweth..

The cup of woe that is…
Yes yes I’d vowed to think positive but hear me out before you remind me of that …

The day begins a bit bleary eyed because the night before Hrit and tossed and turned with high fever. Yet I was optimistic.. Today is Monday I can take him to the doc and all shall be well.

Call from the neighbour. Our common maid wasn’t coming. *Groan* “Not today”, thought I as I watched Hrit’s fever rising. I gave him his capful of Meftal and got on with the tasks, the maid’s and mine, cleaning, sweeping, dusting, watering plants..
Pic courtesy Google Images

I got an appointment with the doc as soon as her clinic opened and watched Hrit getting more and more restless as his fever rose despite the medicine 100, 101, 102, 103, 104. I started to panic.

Despite sponging the fever refused to recede but thankfully it was time for the doc’s appointment. Hrit was shivering from the fever. His teeth chattered. I had barely entered the lift with him when he poured out all he’d eaten since morning down my back, over his clothes and all over the lift.

I yelled for housekeeping to clean the lift and dashed up for a change with one eye on the clock lest we miss the doctor or be late to pick up Naisha from school.
Washed and changed Hrit… washed and changed me… sprayed on deo lavishly to mask the odour of vomit and zoomed to the docs panting and breathless to find she hadn’t arrived.

Only if you’ve ever waited with a feverish child in your arms you’ll know what that wait was like. She arrived and we waited on. Our turn, finally. Hrit needed a shot of antibiotic and cried most sadly but the fever started to go down almost immediately. *Huge sigh of relief*.

Back at home I found the lift reeking but clean. I quickly sprayed some freshener and rushed off to pick up Naisha. I left Hrit home-alone, a first, trusting the telly to keep him out of trouble, he hardly was in any shape to be up to his usual antics.

Naisha arrived and even before I’d ended my ‘welcome back’ hug and kiss she demanded, “Did you get my pot?” (She’d asked me to get a pot for her to paint). *Sigh*. I felt my temper slipping and was starting off on what a day I’d had. However one look at my pouting audience and I shut up in a hurry. I frantically sorted out my strategy. Distraction worked well and we were home while she examined the lift for signs of Hrit-created mess.

That was my manic Monday morning.

We spent the evening trying to navigate Naisha’s homework backlog courtesy the vacation, keeping Hrit’s fever at bay and handling myriad mini and mega tantrums …
I want to play some more (No darling tomorrow’s school), I don’t want to wear my night suit (Okay sleep in your tracks), I don’t want to eat (You HAVE to), I want only khichri (Fine), I want roti (Fine, I’d made both, thank god)), Why are you talking on the phone (That’s because, dadu, nani ma, masi, bua and the ever-travelling papa wanted to know how Hrit was), you told two stories of Hrit’s choice and only one of my choice (no matter that Hrit’s two are her favourites too).
Cajoling, pleading, bribing, threatening, yelling… we got through the day. Finally at 10 it was lights out… Peace.

As Naisha drifted off she said, “I love Papa but I love you morer.” Of course papa’s darling said it out of pure pique since she was upset he wasn’t home. As I watched them sleep I found myself smiling despite the godawful day. All I’ll say is, I love you ‘morest’ babies.

That was yesterday.. Today the maid’s back.. the fever is down and it's been a Terrific Tuesday.