Hot (and bother)

Is there anything easy about parenthood? I'd say no.

As I mentioned yesterday, Jamie's been a bit on the ill side again this week and his temperature's been high. But we only know his temperature's been high because his brow's been hot and, rather more scientifically, the nursery managed to get a reading.

Not that we haven't tried ourselves. Until yesterday, we were a "two thermometer household." (We'd prefer to be a "two-car household" but, until I get my test, that could be regarded as an unnecessary luxury). But neither of them have been very effective thus far. And the reason is simple. It's called Jamie.

Our first thermometer was one of those forehead jobs that you place (you may already have worked this out) on his forehead (did you get it right?) But he doesn't like anything being placed on his forehead and reacts by wriggling like a snake with legs, making it nigh on impossible to get a reading.

Thermometer number two was bought for him very kindly by my mum and is essentially a very whizzy dummy with a thermometer built in. But, ever one to be helpful, he insists on spitting that out before it has a chance to go beep.

So, yesterday, I bought thermometer number three (above) which is more of a traditional variety, save for the fact that it has a little digital display and doesn't have any mercury in it. (To be fair, it's possible that thermometers haven't had mercury in them for 20-odd years - i.e. the last time I had my temperature taken - but it's really not that important).

There was obviously no way he was going to let me put this thing in his mouth, leaving his armpit as the only viable option.

Somewhat ironically, he didn't seem to be as hot last night when I attempted to do the deed. But I'd paid £8 for this thing and he was going to have his temperature taken come what may.

To cut the story of a three-minute ordeal very short, I held him down, he fought like blazes, I continued to pin him down, he continued to kick and scream, the thermometer went beep, and I got a reading of 38.2C - a bit on the high side.

But given the fact that his face was purple and thick with sweat as result of his efforts to avoid having his temperature taken, this was hardly a surprise.

However, I think I've made my point: there truly is nothing easy about parenthood.