August was a great month. September was not so great.

The month started out fine: we had a lovely Saturday afternoon at Daddy’s new job’s summer party; we bought a new car, which Nyan loved to pretend to drive (still does in fact); we all finally made it in to the Olympic park to see the swimmers in the Paralympics. Mommy and Daddy were settling in to their new jobs, and Nyan was settling in to his new nursery.

Ah, there was the rub. Nursery. Lots of time around other kids, for the first time in his life. Lots of kids with lots of bacteria and bugs and whatnot.

In short, Nyan spent a fair amount of the month with a nasty little cold that turned into a chest infection. He spent a good week and a half in Colchester, convalescing and recuperating , and came back as happy and jolly as ever, though a couple pounds lighter.

All’s well that ends well, and it was a good, if hard, lesson for Mommy and Daddy: the kid’s gonna get sick; it’s not gonna be fun; but if you take care of him, he’ll be fine.