Been a while, first post this month. Shame.
So, some good news regarding Fionn and his allergy. Last Tuesday we went to see Dr. Paul Carson who carried out a skin-prick test to ascertain the severity and range of Fionn's allergies. We had to bring our own melon (apparently they don't test for it very often), which we forgot, so I had to tear up to Tesco in Stillorgan (while the school-run traffic was pouring out of Oatlands) to purchase a fresh cantaloupe. I came back to the clinic to find Fionn stripped to his nappy, tears pouring down his face, and full of distrust of the strange man with the needle :( As it turned out it was worth the (brief) upset: Dr. Carson was able to tell us that based on the severity (or lack thereof) of the reaction to the peanut extract he didn't feel that it was necessary for us to have to carry adrenaline auto-injectors. This comes as a huge relief to us: although it is likely that Fionn would still have to be hospitalised if he comes in contact with a peanut, it will be because he is massively unwell, as opposed to being in a potentially life-threatening situation. It seems a small thing, but we don't have to worry that unknown food might now kill him, which was making weaning the less than fun experience it should be.
We also found out that Fionn has a very mild allergy to eggs (it's almost definitely what's causing the eczema), but apart from that Dr. Carson gave us the all-clear, which meant that on Thursday afternoon Fionn was happily tucking into cod and pasta in a cheese and garlic sauce :) Happy days.
So apart from all the drama surrounding his allergies, Fionn is progressing in leaps and bounds. He moved out into his own room last weekend (following a
<sarcasm>great
</sarcasm> trip to Ikea), and seems to be settling in quite well. He loves his new mobile (thank you Aunt Róisín): he can only reach it while being held in our arms, and he spends his entire time either trying to pull it down from the ceiling or blowing at it to make the planes spin around :)
He can pull himself up on anything that doesn't move (or even one us if we stop moving for long enough), which means that any items we have left on top of lockers, chairs, side-tables, etc. have been making steady progress away from his reach as he gets taller and taller. We're coming to the realisation that everything within two feet of the floor is now unequivocally his - he has already attempted to eat small wooden blocks, soil, newspaper, Sinéad's wedding ring, dried fennel, my driving licence, and a €50 note:
He's also become so much more aware of what's going on around him: he responds to the word "book" by going over to his box of books and picking out whichever one he wants to have read to him; any time he sees a duck (be it in the park, a book, or his bath) he makes a good attempt at a Donald Duck quack - although he also does this for swans, pigeons and waterhens :) On top of all this, the child is an out-and-out flirt, and a narcissist: check him out here practising his camera face:
I'll get in trouble if I don't put up a nice photo of him after those two beauties, so here he is chilling out with Grandad Greg in Moymore at Easter:
That's all for now, hopefully won't leave it as long again before posting next time, although the dread dissertation looms large. I'll finish on a sad note, my grand-uncle Noel Quinn passed away on Friday. We'll all remember him with great joy and affection: Noel was a wonderful man, and I'll always think of him when I hear someone sing "Old Man River". Thanks for the moments Noel.
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