My poor little mouse.
She was up a lot of last night, trying hard not to scratch herself but going crazy from the whole thing. But we have had progress. For instance:
– Ella has decided that the novelty of getting lots of attention for her condition has worn off. – I have introduced her to Astro Boy. – I have now progressed from dabbing her individual ‘pocks’ (as I like to call them) with calamine lotion, to just painting stripes of it over her entire body. At this rate, by tomorrow morning I’ll just have a bucket of the stuff on hand to tip straight over her head.
I’m still coming to terms with being 100% housebound for at least the next week. And I’m torn between wanting Caleb to catch it to just get the whole thing over and done with, and wanting to delay the nightmare of convincing a not-yet-3-year-old not to scratch his insanely itching body.
Given that I can barely talk him into prying off his Superman suit – even when it’s covered in last Thursday’s pumpkin soup – trying to battle the right and wrong way to handle a flesh-eating disorder (hey, don’t accuse me of melodrama, I’m getting cabin fever in here!) is not my idea of a rock’n’roll time.
At least Big Brother has just started. Oh no. Did I really just write that?
*banging head against wall*