Lazy Sundays

You know it's cold when Mum puts up curtains in every doorway imaginable to keep the warmth from the heater, in one room. It's almost as if the cold wind, perma-hard nipples and seeing your breath puff out when you're in the kitchen, isn't enough. Once the curtains are up, it's officially cold, and she finally admits that heat is a good thing. So, as you can well imagine, we now have the heater going. And, I'm sure, as you can also well imagine, I totally miss central heating.

In other news, I'm still suffering itchies on my girls. And my eyelids, though the eyelid itchies seem to be disappearing in favour of itchie cheekbones. I'm beginning to feel like I'm losing the war, here. The cocoa butter has been working, however it was SO FREAKING COLD last night, that I woke myself up a couple of times scratching uncontrollably. And then once when I woke up it was to put more cocoa butter on them. It's painful to keep itching - I can see I'm drawing blood, but dammit, the relief . . . the relief!

I've never actually woken myself up before because of itching, so I was still half asleep when I attempted to put the butter on my skin. Because of this, a great glob of it ended up on my nightshirt, which I then had to try and get off the shirt and back onto the flesh, without waking up D in the process.

But it was 4am, and not only was I itching myself into a fit, I also had to go pee. I wasn't as annoyed this time around as I was before - I think I'm getting used to it now - and it turns out he was already awake, having coughed himself out of sleep, and launching himself into a long and somewhat painful sounding, coughing fit. His sinuses are playing up, and it seems that he may have gotten the dreaded Cold, so Mum and I went down to the shops this afternoon to buy some essentials: cold medicine and soup. He's back in bed now, sleeping, after having taken one of the giant horsepills.

And that's about it. It's cold outside and warm inside, and I'm off to watch Spanglish.