Perennial Anna

 The children have been ill, jointly and severally, for the past four weeks. We have had fevers and coughs and throwing up and whinging and unexpected naps and the collapse of civilisation. I think I have been ill too in amongst it all but I haven't entirely had time to conduct a roll-call of symptoms for myself. We're still not quite out of the woods, because after a good start to the morning with an exceptionally bracing walk along the beach ("No, we are not paddling today. Because the waves are bigger than mummy, that's why"), by lunchtime they were both lying on the sofa and glaring at each other after a fight I could not untangle about who wanted which blanket. Moreover, we still have a few more days of close monitoring, after two children in L's class came down with scarlet fever. Fortunately it has a short incubation period (one to seven days), and it is very treatable these days - but it does need treating with actual drugs, not just calpol and a Thomas the Tank Engine DVD. L's teacher had to take yet another week off work when she was perfectly healthy, and is wishing the class could try coming down with something that isn't very bad news for pregnant women for a change.

Tomorrow morning their father collects them for an overnight stay, and this time I don't have the excitement of going away myself to take the edge off it. I do have two days of meals they will hate planned, and I will use the time to block a very large shawl on my bed. Normally this would mean sleeping on the floor while it dried, but there will, after all, be two spare beds. I could also catch up on The Night Manager. Television after 8.30 hasn't been happening for weeks - well, it has been happening, but I have been fast asleep on the sofa while it has been happening.