We left off yesterday with Oscar channeling a slightly less evil Chucky doll.

By 6am it was clear that a return to slumber was a pipe dream, and the sun was beginning to make its presence known.

We persuaded Oscar to eat his banana and watch some cartoons – more as a courtesy to other motel patrons nearby.

Who I was sure had rung the receptionist desk numerous times over night to complain about the screaming child next door. Failing that, they would at least be giving us dirty looks in the hallway in thanks for their disturbed night.

I figured that the least we could do was endeavor to provide a relatively quiet morning.

We failed.

Excited by the exceedingly bright sun and the draw of the mini fridge cupboard – which Pal had managed to child- proof with a towel threaded through the handles and then double knotted – Oscar’s chuckling reached hysterical proportions.

At which point I threw him in the shower as both a distraction and calming technique.

Which was futile and only resulted in increasingly hyper behaviour.

We checked out early.

After lucking out and finding a parking space in one of the side streets close to the hospital we wandered over and breakfasted with my aunt, where Oscar fell asleep sitting up in Pal’s arms 20 minutes before heading to the cardiology department.

Which was handy. Not.

The next 40 minutes involved holding down a tired, scared and altogether unimpressed 2 year old whilst they did the echo and we hoped in vain that the Wiggles DVD would distract him for more than 30 seconds at a time.

Against all odds the Fellow got all that was necessary. Possibly forgetting that the child’s parents were present when showing the medical student the new obstruction causing more narrowing of Oscar’s aorta.

Medical student: is that normal with children who’ve had a coarctation?

Fellow: Uh, no. I mean, it can happen, but…

There is nothing more frightening than that but.

However, before long we were assured that the scan was good.

Oscar’s cardiologist arrived and again expressed surprise that our child was 2.

Dr: He really could be a one year old, couldn’t he?

Yes, thanks. We are aware our son is a midget. Please, rub it in.

We were then informed that due to his size (small) and his overall health (good) that we’d be waiting and seeing on the minor obstruction.

For a year.

Jumping for joy and highfiving would not have been out of place with our emotions.

Nothing compares to being told your “sick” kid is too well and not urgent enough to bother with right now. To not bother with for a whole year.

After a short stop at the mall to find a t-shirt for Oscar, thanks to the beautiful and warm Sydney weather rendering the carefully selected outfit for him boiling, we headed over to the Fibro Majestic, home of the infamous Gemma (aka My Big Nutshell).

We rang the doorbell and when she answered wearing one of her trademark aprons, with a pantsless Nick in tow, I knew I was home.

After hearing so much about Gem’s bedroom transformation and her new built-in wardrobes, the master bedroom was obviously my first stop.

I practically humped the jewelry drawer, and then took a photo to commemorate the event:

As long as the stars are appreciative of neon pink string, repurposing, up cycling and all round gorgeousness!!

Next through the door was Fi of My Mummy Daze, met the Prime minister and went to New York earlier this month fame. She brought Miss E and Mr J, who were the cutest little buttons of kids I’ve ever met.

They also ate all their lunch and played happily the whole time. I very nearly spat at Fi with jealousy for her well behaved kids until I realized that my child was also behaving well.

Even if he did throw his sandwich away and instead ate all the chalk…

In fact, all the children were behaving well. I have decided that the Nutshell Fibro has secret magical kid soothing abilities, that only cut in when there are guests along for the ride.

The final additions to our party, Grace and her twin boys, arrived. No thanks to me, who gave her the wrong street number and sent her to a strangers house where no one was home to open the door and send her in the right direction.

Gemma put on a beautiful spread, complemented by Fi’s divine muffins and Grace’s pastries. A spread that I am in fact totally copying this afternoon for a late lunch/play date…

After a glass (or few) of wine, it was time for us to vacate the premises and head back home.

“Hi, Daisy?”

“Yes.”

“It’s Wesley lodge. I’m just calling because there was a Teddy bear left in your room. In a drawer, actually… Are you still in the area?”