Eleven is the new three

Fainjin is three!  He’s so different to his older sister at the same age.  But they are very different people, so that is to be expected.  He coped very well indeed with the pared-down version of his birthday – no promised boat-ride (he’ll get it later), no party and not even a cake (he’ll get those later too).  That’s just what happens when Mummy and Babess are sick.  He got lots of fire-engines, so he’s in heaven.

As soon as he woke up, Pearl told him “It’s your birthday today!  Happy Birthday, Fainjin!”  I was still in bed, but their Dad was up, and Fainjin rushed out – anxious to share the joy – and said, “Happy Birthday, Daddy!”  Nothing like starting the day with a good laugh.

However, he insists that he’s not three.  Eleven is his favourite number at the moment, and he’s telling everyone that’s how old he is.  Even today, I held up three fingers and said “You’re one… two… three!” and he replied crossly, “No!  I eleben… twelve… six-eighteen!”  That’s his favourite sequence at the moment.  It’s a bit odd, he’s been counting one-to-one forever, which is usually a later-learned skill than counting in order.  But never mind, he’ll get there.

Babess is much better, although we did have three visits to a doctor within 24 hours.  We’re still having some tests done, and still in a waiting period to see whether she is over the bug and out the other side, but she’s much brighter than she has been for the past few days.  Thank you so much for all the good wishes.

Just getting our family through a nasty tummy bug has reminded me again of how much parents of seriously ill children (and children of seriously ill parents) suffer – the fear, worry, sleeplessness and toll on one’s own health.  If you are or have been in that position, my heart goes out to you.

One Response to “Eleven is the new three”

  1. Stimey Says:

    Happy birthday, Fainjin!!!

    (And wishes that Babess gets better soon.)

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