My poor boy woke up yesterday looking like spotty dog. He was pretty well covered with them on his face and chest. More have come up on his arms and legs today. He isn't scratching to much yet. I've got some calamine aquaeous cream but he doesn't take to kindly to having it rubbed on. Actually, that's an understatement, he hates having it on and fights, pushes and shouts at the top of his voice so he doesn't get it rubbed in to well and looks like a.....ermmmm, I don't know really, just red and spotty with white, creamy patches.
It's a long time since I've been down this road with the kids. The other boys all caught them together when Craig was about 13. I do remember Chris being the last one to catch them. He had so many spots you couldn't put a pin between them and we were booked to go on holiday to Blackpool. Imagine how awful it was walking into the guest house with this spotty kid and having to explain he was no longer infectious (we'd had him checked by the doc) but knowing they didn't believe us! And everywhere we went people looked at us funny or left a quarantine ring round us on the beach. Great times!
Jamie is feeling quite poorly at the moment. I can tell because he won't eat and Jamie only stops eating when ill. So, I've just got him back to school after Christmas and now he's home for at least a week. Not that I don't love my special boy but those few hours while he's at school are mine and now they've gone, again. And a sixteen year old, disabled boy with chickenpox is far harder than a six year old. You can grapple with a six year old and rub that cream in!
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