Scene: It is very early in the morning and you are lying in bed enjoying a peaceful sleep as you do every night. Next to you is the tiny figure of a child, who makes their way into your room every night for snuggles, but tonight is not like every other night as you are about to find out.
1:58am: You notice that the figure next to you is more restless than normal. This fact barely registers in your sleeping thoughts, but you do notice it through your dream.
2:00am: You are woken up by the first choking sounds of an impending spew by the body next to you. In your sleep addled state you have the presence of mind to throw the blankets off her before the spew-pocalypse begins. There is no time to do anything else after that.
2:01am: You turn on the light and see the huge task that awaits you. There is now a vomit covered child sitting on a vomit soaked mattress crying. You run to the kitchen to grab a bucket in case there is any more vomit to come, but you might as well not bother, the damage is done. You insult the small child by offering her the bucket as she no longer possesses the desire to throw up.
2:03am: You gingerly strip off the child and send her towards the bathroom to await cleaning. You figure that area is all tiles and lino so it will be easier to clean if her reassurances she doesn't feel sick anymore turn out to be all lies.
2:04am: You turn to your bed, which now resembles a scene from Dante's Inferno and begin stripping the bedclothes. You sigh as you add this stain to the long list of pre-existing stains that your child has already kindly donated to your mattress. The bedclothes are piled up outside the laundry along with the pyjamas.
2:06am: You grab some clean pyjamas and a towel for your child and head to the bathroom to break up the argument that has started between her and your mother, as she insists that YOU are the one who must now clean her up. You throw the clothes on the floor then remember that you forgot underpants. You dash to the bedroom, nearly breaking your next in the process on the mountain of toys on the floor that she insists is her shop. You run back to the bathroom where the argument has continued in your absence and confirm to your child that you are indeed going to be the one who cleans her up. Your mum heads off to make you a coffee. You are going to need it.
2:10am: You end up having to get into the shower with your crying child, because she has just remembered she is terrified of the shower and is refusing to enter alone. It doesn't matter that you already showered today, you're now going to have a record breaking two showers in one day.
2:16am: You have scrubbed your child from top to bottom and she is finally not crying, and no longer afraid of the shower. In fact she is now "swimming" on the shower floor and giggling, her recent stomach fireworks a distant memory. This is the point at which you realise you never grabbed a towel for yourself.
2:17am: You are now standing naked and dripping wet in your bathroom drying off your child. Both of you are shivering, but only one of you is covered by a towel and receiving a rigorous drying off. The other of you is a grown adult and has to suck it up. You quickly throw on your nightgown after a quick check to make sure you ducked the contents of her stomach earlier and curse as it sticks to your wet back. You get your child dressed quickly and send her to the lounge room where your mum has turned on the heater. There is a coffee waiting for you, but you want to complete your next task with an empty stomach.
2:24am: You have dragged all of the soiled bedding to the bathroom and commence rinsing everything off before you put them in the washing machine. This task comes complete with gagging and heaving, because of course, you are a sympathetic vomiter. This is why you needed an empty stomach. The mess compels you to ask your child exactly when they ate lettuce, because you know they hate lettuce, but you have evidence on your sheets that they have somehow consumed it today.
2:34am: Gasping for fresh air you march to the laundry with your newly rinsed pile of laundry and get it into the washing machine. You add a double scoop of laundry powder and some soaking agent with anti-bacterial stuff in it. You hope this is enough to convince your brain that these bed sheets are not horror tainted evil forever more so you can put them back on your bed tomorrow.
2:35am: Before you head to the lounge room you go back to your bedroom and throw open the window as wide as it will go. You hope this is enough to get rid of the smell.
2:36am: You finally get to sit down to a coffee. This is the point where you realise you have nowhere to sleep tonight, as your bed needs to be scrubbed down and blessed by a priest before you will lie in it again. You decide to grab the mattresses from your child's bed and the trundle bed you keep for sleepovers and drag them into the lounge room. But first, coffee.
2:50am: You watch your "sick" child dance around the lounge room with a seemingly endless source of energy. You wonder for about the millionth time since becoming a parent whether she is siphoning energy from you. It is at this point where you remember that her dad is meant to be taking her to the park tomorrow so you send him a quick message explaining that she is possibly unwell so tomorrow's excursion will need to be cancelled. You do not expect a reply because only an idiot would be awake at this time of the morning.
2:55am: You drag the mattresses into the lounge room and set your child up to sleep. You turn on the TV to get her to sit still. Your mum returns to bed, having kindly kept you company during the grossest parts, she is relieved of her duties and free to fall back into the kind of sound sleep only someone whose child has not just thrown up can have. You envy her that luxury.
3:05am: You turn off the lights and try to fall asleep to the sound of Dora the Explorer. This fails as you haven't seen this episode, so you can't resist the temptation to watch. This is why you watch the same movie every single night to go to sleep. You can't sleep through something new.
3:30am: You finally turn off the television. Neither of you are sleeping and you can't handle the excitement of Nick Jr. any more. You spend the next twenty minutes reminding your "sick" child that she is meant to be sleeping right now and stroking her back. Every time she makes a new noise you feel compelled to ask her how her stomach is feeling, just to hear her say it feels good and calm. This doesn't fill you with as much confidence as it should. You do not trust your child anymore.
4:00am: Your child is finally asleep. You think this would be your cue to sleep as well, however this is the point where you discover your daughter makes really loud noises with her mouth in her sleep. (Has she always done this?) Every new noise jolts you awake and you regret not putting a bucket on the ground next to her.
4:30am(ish): You finally fall asleep somehow, but it isn't a restful sleep. You are still paranoid there will be a repeat performance and you can feel the ground underneath the paper thin mattress you are lying on. You resign yourself to the fact that tomorrow is going to be a bad day.
6:00am: You are woken up by a bright eyed and bushy tailed child. She is feeling fabulous and wants food. You turn on the television to distract her and go back to sleep. Might as well catch some more sleep while you can.
9:00am: You are woken up by the telephone. Her father has been trying to get on to you for an hour now and wants to make sure everything is OK. You reassure him it appears to have been a one off event, but she needs to stay home today just to make sure. He informs you he is coming over today to see her, and you resign yourself to the fact that your sleep is over. Thank God for coffee.
End Scene
I come for the coffee, I stay for the padded walls and straight jackets
Showing posts with label Illness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Illness. Show all posts
Monday, 24 October 2016
Saturday, 23 July 2016
July Fly on the Wall
Welcome to another instalment of Fly on the Wall. This is by far my favourite time of the month. I get to share little stories and tid-bits you'd hear if you were a fly on the wall. Today I am joined by 8 other bloggers who are all sharing their innermost crazy. Be sure to buzz around and visit all of them.
Mum: I think I'm hungry.
Me: Well let me know when you're sure.
Mum: Why? Are you going to do something about it?
Me: No, I'm just really invested in this story.
My little sister Kim is staying with us at the moment, and my favourite thing to do with her is turn everything she says into an innuendo. It bugs the hell out of her, but it's not my fault she's so filthy.
Me: I remember that pie I made that had the cod in it, I was pretty proud of that fish pie.
Kim: Oh I remember that. I loved eating your fish pie.
My cue to fall on the floor laughing.
Kim: Oh shut up.
Kim: Mum do you want your meat separated
My cue to fall on the floor laughing
Kim: Stop it. I'm just trying to figure out if mum wants her pork loins in twos.
I have to rush to the toilet to prevent having an accident on my couch.
Kim: I hate you.
Mum walked in to the room and started smacking me in the back of the head.
Me: Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.
Mum: Oh sorry I'm just like Pavlov's dog. Whenever I see you I have to hit you.
Kim: Mum, it's not nice to call her Pavlov's dog.
Me: No, mum is Pavlov's dog. And for future reference it's called a Pavlovian response mum.
Kim: I know all about the pavlova response, I work in childcare.
Me: I'm a diverse person.
Mum: I thought you were about to say you're a diabetic.
Me: Mum do you have regrets?
Mum: I have a few, too few to mention.
Me: No, I'm being serious. Thanks a lot Frank Sinatra, I'm going to punch you in the nads when I next see you.
Me: Miss K have you eaten your dinner yet?
Miss K: I don't like it. I want a different dinner.
Me: Well this isn't a restaurant. You eat what I put in front of you or you go hungry.
Miss K: Well let's pretend this is a restaurant then and you make me something else.
Me: If this is a restaurant it's a soup kitchen, where you get what you're given or go hungry.
Miss K: I don't like this restaurant.
Mum: You're getting more and more anti-social as you get older.
Me: Yep I know. I love it.
Mum: I don't.
Me: When you think about it, I've spent fourteen years speaking on the phone to people I don't know or don't like.
Mum: I'm your mum.
Me: FOURTEEN YEARS MUM!
Miss K came up while I was surfing the web and started randomly mashing at my keyboard.
Me: Don't you even think about it miss.
Miss K: I'm going to think about it.
Earlier this month one of my dad's sons from his first marriage became a grandfather for the first time. This makes my dad a great-grandpa and me a great-aunt. This news disturbed me because I feel at 32 I'm way too young for this crap. However it does make for great conversations with the family.
Me: I found out today that dad is a great-grandpa.
Ben: Whose kid had kids?
Me: One of [older brothers] kids, not sure if it was [nephew 1] or [nephew 2].
Ben: That's crazy.
Me: Tell me about it. That makes you a great-uncle, and yet still so mediocre.
Ben: That's the pot calling the kettle black.
Me: This is freakin' weird.
Mum: What?
Me: I'm a great-aunt.
Mum: (laughs) Meh, you're ok...
Here is another in the wonderful series of Minecraft conversations which sound weird without context.
Eliza: I have a head. Where did that come from? Mum where are you, I have a head.
Miss K has been sick on and off with various viruses these past two months, but one night she woke up with weird swelling in her chin. I rushed her straight to our after hours medical service where we were prescribed antibiotics for an infection which had caused her glands to swell up like a balloon.
Dr: Now one of the side effects of this antibiotic is diarrhoea.
Me: Did you hear that Miss K? This medicine may give you runny poos.
Miss K: Runny poos in my neck?
I don't think the doctor appreciated that I laughed so hard at Miss K's shock.
Sadly for us, that visit to the doctor wasn't the end of the saga, and after going to my own GP for a second opinion we were told to rush to the local hospital as the swelling was an indication Miss K was forming an abscess in her neck. Miss K ended up spending three nights in hospital on IV antibiotics, and I spent three nights sleeping on a mattress on the floor in the ward next to her. but she took all of the poking, prodding and needles like an absolute trooper and on the fourth day we were finally allowed to go home. She's still on antibiotics for the time being, as there is still some swelling in her neck, but we've hopefully avoided surgery as long as her recovery continues as well as it has.
Conversation in a public toilet.
Miss K: Mum I did poos and wees.
Me: (Very aware that there is another person in the stalls with us) Yes I know you did now hurry up and finish.
Miss K: But there were lots of them.
Me: That's great. Are you done yet?
Cue the toilet next to us flushing and a woman comes out laughing.
Woman: It's ok, I have kids too.
Me: The conversations you have once you're a parent.
We had a federal election in Australia this month, and my sister Natalie decided to vote for the first time.
Nat: I have no idea who any of these people are or what they want. I remember watching some political show at dad's once and they kept talking about a cabinet, but they never once showed a picture of it. I couldn't understand what was so amazing about a stupid cabinet that they felt the need to discuss it for so long. What is this cabinet?
Me: It's the group of politicians which make up parliament. And you are one the people deciding who runs our country for the next few years. I worry about you sometimes.
Natalie was temporarily promoted to room leader at the daycare centre she works at this month, but the promotion did not come without issues, and one of her co-workers quit suddenly, saying that she couldn't work with Natalie because she stressed her out, and now she was constipated.
Nat: I don't understand what her problem is, I looked at the roster and I only spent 3 hours and 20 minutes a day with her.
Me: Well apparently that's long enough for you to constipate someone.
Nat: Yeah. You better not spend more time than that with me otherwise you'll start having problems too.
Luckily for Natalie her bosses were able to see the humor in the situation, but Nat now has the reputation of constipating those who work around her.
Well that's it from our crazy part of the world, be sure to visit all the other bloggers joining in today, and I'll be back to share more fun again soon.
Baking In A Tornado
Menopausal Mother
Spatulas on Parade
Never Ever Give Up Hope
Dinosaur Superhero Mommy
Southern Belle Charm
Go Mama O
Molly Ritterbeck
I'm going to warn you now that there is a lot of toilet humor in today's post. I try to keep things as clean as possible around here, however sometimes life has a way of keeping things in the gutter when I'm around. If you are easily offended I'd look away now.Menopausal Mother
Spatulas on Parade
Never Ever Give Up Hope
Dinosaur Superhero Mommy
Southern Belle Charm
Go Mama O
Molly Ritterbeck
Mum: I think I'm hungry.
Me: Well let me know when you're sure.
Mum: Why? Are you going to do something about it?
Me: No, I'm just really invested in this story.
My little sister Kim is staying with us at the moment, and my favourite thing to do with her is turn everything she says into an innuendo. It bugs the hell out of her, but it's not my fault she's so filthy.
Me: I remember that pie I made that had the cod in it, I was pretty proud of that fish pie.
Kim: Oh I remember that. I loved eating your fish pie.
My cue to fall on the floor laughing.
Kim: Oh shut up.
Kim: Mum do you want your meat separated
My cue to fall on the floor laughing
Kim: Stop it. I'm just trying to figure out if mum wants her pork loins in twos.
I have to rush to the toilet to prevent having an accident on my couch.
Kim: I hate you.
Mum walked in to the room and started smacking me in the back of the head.
Me: Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.
Mum: Oh sorry I'm just like Pavlov's dog. Whenever I see you I have to hit you.
Kim: Mum, it's not nice to call her Pavlov's dog.
Me: No, mum is Pavlov's dog. And for future reference it's called a Pavlovian response mum.
Kim: I know all about the pavlova response, I work in childcare.
Me: I'm a diverse person.
Mum: I thought you were about to say you're a diabetic.
Me: Mum do you have regrets?
Mum: I have a few, too few to mention.
Me: No, I'm being serious. Thanks a lot Frank Sinatra, I'm going to punch you in the nads when I next see you.
Me: Miss K have you eaten your dinner yet?
Miss K: I don't like it. I want a different dinner.
Me: Well this isn't a restaurant. You eat what I put in front of you or you go hungry.
Miss K: Well let's pretend this is a restaurant then and you make me something else.
Me: If this is a restaurant it's a soup kitchen, where you get what you're given or go hungry.
Miss K: I don't like this restaurant.
Mum: You're getting more and more anti-social as you get older.
Me: Yep I know. I love it.
Mum: I don't.
Me: When you think about it, I've spent fourteen years speaking on the phone to people I don't know or don't like.
Mum: I'm your mum.
Me: FOURTEEN YEARS MUM!
Miss K came up while I was surfing the web and started randomly mashing at my keyboard.
Me: Don't you even think about it miss.
Miss K: I'm going to think about it.
Earlier this month one of my dad's sons from his first marriage became a grandfather for the first time. This makes my dad a great-grandpa and me a great-aunt. This news disturbed me because I feel at 32 I'm way too young for this crap. However it does make for great conversations with the family.
Me: I found out today that dad is a great-grandpa.
Ben: Whose kid had kids?
Me: One of [older brothers] kids, not sure if it was [nephew 1] or [nephew 2].
Ben: That's crazy.
Me: Tell me about it. That makes you a great-uncle, and yet still so mediocre.
Ben: That's the pot calling the kettle black.
Me: This is freakin' weird.
Mum: What?
Me: I'm a great-aunt.
Mum: (laughs) Meh, you're ok...
Here is another in the wonderful series of Minecraft conversations which sound weird without context.
Eliza: I have a head. Where did that come from? Mum where are you, I have a head.
Miss K has been sick on and off with various viruses these past two months, but one night she woke up with weird swelling in her chin. I rushed her straight to our after hours medical service where we were prescribed antibiotics for an infection which had caused her glands to swell up like a balloon.
Dr: Now one of the side effects of this antibiotic is diarrhoea.
Me: Did you hear that Miss K? This medicine may give you runny poos.
Miss K: Runny poos in my neck?
I don't think the doctor appreciated that I laughed so hard at Miss K's shock.
Sadly for us, that visit to the doctor wasn't the end of the saga, and after going to my own GP for a second opinion we were told to rush to the local hospital as the swelling was an indication Miss K was forming an abscess in her neck. Miss K ended up spending three nights in hospital on IV antibiotics, and I spent three nights sleeping on a mattress on the floor in the ward next to her. but she took all of the poking, prodding and needles like an absolute trooper and on the fourth day we were finally allowed to go home. She's still on antibiotics for the time being, as there is still some swelling in her neck, but we've hopefully avoided surgery as long as her recovery continues as well as it has.
Conversation in a public toilet.
Miss K: Mum I did poos and wees.
Me: (Very aware that there is another person in the stalls with us) Yes I know you did now hurry up and finish.
Miss K: But there were lots of them.
Me: That's great. Are you done yet?
Cue the toilet next to us flushing and a woman comes out laughing.
Woman: It's ok, I have kids too.
Me: The conversations you have once you're a parent.
We had a federal election in Australia this month, and my sister Natalie decided to vote for the first time.
Nat: I have no idea who any of these people are or what they want. I remember watching some political show at dad's once and they kept talking about a cabinet, but they never once showed a picture of it. I couldn't understand what was so amazing about a stupid cabinet that they felt the need to discuss it for so long. What is this cabinet?
Me: It's the group of politicians which make up parliament. And you are one the people deciding who runs our country for the next few years. I worry about you sometimes.
Natalie was temporarily promoted to room leader at the daycare centre she works at this month, but the promotion did not come without issues, and one of her co-workers quit suddenly, saying that she couldn't work with Natalie because she stressed her out, and now she was constipated.
Nat: I don't understand what her problem is, I looked at the roster and I only spent 3 hours and 20 minutes a day with her.
Me: Well apparently that's long enough for you to constipate someone.
Nat: Yeah. You better not spend more time than that with me otherwise you'll start having problems too.
Luckily for Natalie her bosses were able to see the humor in the situation, but Nat now has the reputation of constipating those who work around her.
Well that's it from our crazy part of the world, be sure to visit all the other bloggers joining in today, and I'll be back to share more fun again soon.
Saturday, 18 June 2016
June Fly on the Wall
Welcome to another month's instalment of Fly on the wall. Today nine bloggers have joined up to share some of the things you'd see if you were a fly on the wall in their home.
Below is a list of all the bloggers involved today, be sure to visit them all and share the love.
Mum and I share drink making duties at home, alternating it so if one of us made the last round, the next round is made by the other one. One night it was my turn to make the drinks but I'd gotten side tracked looking at something on the internet. Mum found a bell on the table and started ringing it.
Me: Crap, it's my turn isn't it?
Mum: That's not what I meant, I was just about to say visiting hours were over, get out.
Nat complained to me several times during the month that she was feeling nauseous every single day. I gave her sympathy every single day until we had this conversation.
Nat: You know how I've been feeling sick for the last few days?
Me: Yeah
Nat: Well I figured out what was going on. Every night I make myself a ham sandwich for lunch, and then I was putting them ON TOP of the fridge until the next morning.
Me: Well no wonder you were getting sick you idiot. Hang on, I have to tell mum so she can laugh at you...
While helping Miss K get dressed
Me: I'm not sure this shirt is going to fit you. Nah it fits, but you might gape a bit at the front, those buttons are not forgiving at all. Welcome to the wonderful world of women's shirts kiddo.
Miss K (looks around) This is just your bedroom mum.
Me: Gee Miss K hates it when I turn Sesame Street into a dystopian society.
Mum: I can't understand why.
I was watching Jonathan Creek one weekend because I absolutely love that show and rarely get time to watch it. It's normally a fairly tame show, but I managed to find the one episode with two sex scenes in it on a day when Miss K was watching with me. It came to the first kissing scene and I began contemplating whether or not to just miss out and change the channel when Miss K piped up.
Miss K: They're kissing.
Me: I know. Ewww, she'll get boy germs.
Miss K: No she won't.
Me: Why not?
Miss K: Because boys don't have germs.
Me: YES THEY BLOODY DO!!!!!!!!!!
I can't believe she's on to me already. I honestly thought I had another year or so before I had to worry about this.
Kim and I were discussing television.
Kim: I love the food network, it's my favourite....party.
Me:...
Kim: I couldn't think of the word.
Me: Channel?
Kim: Oh yeah.
Miss K and I took the day off from our responsibilities on Wednesday and went to Melbourne for the day. We took a trip to the Melbourne Museum to see the dinosaur exhibit, but also stuck our head in on the human body exhibit because Miss K is obsessed with how the body works. There was even a display which explained digestion, with very graphic examples of everything from a plate of whole food, all the way down to a lump of poo at the end and a button which made fart noises. On the way home Miss K made a friend with another passenger on the train and we were discussing our trip to the museum with him.
Me: We saw all kinds of animals and insects at the museum today didn't we?
Miss K: Yeah, and a poo.
Me: Well yes, we saw that too.
Before we headed home we stopped in at the Pancake Parlour because I cannot go through Melbourne without going there at least once. Miss K had never been before so I was excited to introduce her to the most amazing pancakes in the world, however she only picked at hers and preferred to eat the ice cream on top instead. Recently we've been having issues with food and her, so I asked her if we needed to add pancakes to her list of no no foods.
Me: Do you not like pancakes anymore?
Miss K: No, I love pancakes.
Me: Did you just not like the ones they make at the restaurant?
Miss K: Yeah they were yucky. Your pancakes are the best.
So I'll be sure to add that to my Yelp review whenever I get around to it.
So I wrote in my last post that I was sending Miss K to her father's house this weekend despite her having a cold, but she decided I needed one more go of dealing with a sick child and vomited in the train on the way to handover the next morning. We were literally five minutes away from our stop at the time too, so I had to figure out whether it was more important to clean her up or find the conductor and let him know there was a slight mess on one of his seats (we caught most of it on our clothes, lucky us.) I decided Miss K needed cleaning up and went to the toilet only to find it already occupied by someone who spent ages in there, so we didn't even have time to clean up before we ran out of the train to make it to handover. But you'll be pleased to know I rang Miss K's dad while we were still on the train and told him to run to a clothing store to pick up clean clothes for Miss K, and I spoke to the staff at the station to let them know to get a message to the conductor on the train we had just left. I then took the next train home again smelling slightly sour, and ran straight to our local clothing store to replace the jumper I had left in the rubbish bin outside the train station. The joys of parenting.
Well that's all from me, I'm off to enjoy a child free weekend, and my enjoy I mean harass Miss K's dad with constant texts making sure she's getting better. He's been forewarned that this was happening so I have full permission to make a total pain in the ass of myself.
Below is a list of all the bloggers involved today, be sure to visit them all and share the love.
Mum and I share drink making duties at home, alternating it so if one of us made the last round, the next round is made by the other one. One night it was my turn to make the drinks but I'd gotten side tracked looking at something on the internet. Mum found a bell on the table and started ringing it.
Me: Crap, it's my turn isn't it?
Mum: That's not what I meant, I was just about to say visiting hours were over, get out.
Nat complained to me several times during the month that she was feeling nauseous every single day. I gave her sympathy every single day until we had this conversation.
Nat: You know how I've been feeling sick for the last few days?
Me: Yeah
Nat: Well I figured out what was going on. Every night I make myself a ham sandwich for lunch, and then I was putting them ON TOP of the fridge until the next morning.
Me: Well no wonder you were getting sick you idiot. Hang on, I have to tell mum so she can laugh at you...
While helping Miss K get dressed
Me: I'm not sure this shirt is going to fit you. Nah it fits, but you might gape a bit at the front, those buttons are not forgiving at all. Welcome to the wonderful world of women's shirts kiddo.
Miss K (looks around) This is just your bedroom mum.
Me: Gee Miss K hates it when I turn Sesame Street into a dystopian society.
Mum: I can't understand why.
I was watching Jonathan Creek one weekend because I absolutely love that show and rarely get time to watch it. It's normally a fairly tame show, but I managed to find the one episode with two sex scenes in it on a day when Miss K was watching with me. It came to the first kissing scene and I began contemplating whether or not to just miss out and change the channel when Miss K piped up.
Miss K: They're kissing.
Me: I know. Ewww, she'll get boy germs.
Miss K: No she won't.
Me: Why not?
Miss K: Because boys don't have germs.
Me: YES THEY BLOODY DO!!!!!!!!!!
I can't believe she's on to me already. I honestly thought I had another year or so before I had to worry about this.
Kim and I were discussing television.
Kim: I love the food network, it's my favourite....party.
Me:...
Kim: I couldn't think of the word.
Me: Channel?
Kim: Oh yeah.
Miss K and I took the day off from our responsibilities on Wednesday and went to Melbourne for the day. We took a trip to the Melbourne Museum to see the dinosaur exhibit, but also stuck our head in on the human body exhibit because Miss K is obsessed with how the body works. There was even a display which explained digestion, with very graphic examples of everything from a plate of whole food, all the way down to a lump of poo at the end and a button which made fart noises. On the way home Miss K made a friend with another passenger on the train and we were discussing our trip to the museum with him.
Me: We saw all kinds of animals and insects at the museum today didn't we?
Miss K: Yeah, and a poo.
Me: Well yes, we saw that too.
The only photo I took in the whole museum. She freaked out when I showed her because it looks like the dinosaur is getting ready to eat her head.
Before we headed home we stopped in at the Pancake Parlour because I cannot go through Melbourne without going there at least once. Miss K had never been before so I was excited to introduce her to the most amazing pancakes in the world, however she only picked at hers and preferred to eat the ice cream on top instead. Recently we've been having issues with food and her, so I asked her if we needed to add pancakes to her list of no no foods.
Me: Do you not like pancakes anymore?
Miss K: No, I love pancakes.
Me: Did you just not like the ones they make at the restaurant?
Miss K: Yeah they were yucky. Your pancakes are the best.
So I'll be sure to add that to my Yelp review whenever I get around to it.
So I wrote in my last post that I was sending Miss K to her father's house this weekend despite her having a cold, but she decided I needed one more go of dealing with a sick child and vomited in the train on the way to handover the next morning. We were literally five minutes away from our stop at the time too, so I had to figure out whether it was more important to clean her up or find the conductor and let him know there was a slight mess on one of his seats (we caught most of it on our clothes, lucky us.) I decided Miss K needed cleaning up and went to the toilet only to find it already occupied by someone who spent ages in there, so we didn't even have time to clean up before we ran out of the train to make it to handover. But you'll be pleased to know I rang Miss K's dad while we were still on the train and told him to run to a clothing store to pick up clean clothes for Miss K, and I spoke to the staff at the station to let them know to get a message to the conductor on the train we had just left. I then took the next train home again smelling slightly sour, and ran straight to our local clothing store to replace the jumper I had left in the rubbish bin outside the train station. The joys of parenting.
Well that's all from me, I'm off to enjoy a child free weekend, and my enjoy I mean harass Miss K's dad with constant texts making sure she's getting better. He's been forewarned that this was happening so I have full permission to make a total pain in the ass of myself.
Thursday, 16 June 2016
Yes I send my child for visitations while sick
Ah winter, the worst of all seasons. You bring with you frost on my car, numb fingers and noses, and all manner of nasty viruses, each one which will slowly convince you that this is the bug that will finally kill you.
Miss K is sick at the moment with a particularly nasty virus in her chest. I had it for three weeks, mum's on week two at the moment and Miss K is on day three. She currently sounds like a sixty year old man who has smoked a pack of cigarettes a day for the past forty years every time she coughs. I have an arsenal of pain killers and cough medicines in my pantry and every four hours I dutifully dole out the next dose of vile medicine much to her disgust. I'm sure she is convinced that my various treatments are going to kill her before the virus does.
But come tomorrow morning all of this stops. I dose my daughter up one last time, then I bundle her into a train and hand her over to her father for four days, during which time it officially becomes his duty to be chief snot remover and poison dispenser. Even before I was a single mother with my own custody agreement in place, this always seemed like the normal thing to do. You have a visitation scheduled, it happens unless a body part is falling off, and even then if it can be sewn back on in time the visit should still be able to happen. But my time working for a lawyer taught me that this isn't actually the case a lot of the time, and it doesn't seem right.
Now there is always a back story to every relationship, so I'm not saying that my way is the only right way and everyone else who does this differently is an idiot, but I wonder what the mothers who do keep kids home sick from a custody visit are saying when they make this decision. Are you saying that there is no one in the world who could possibly care for your ailing child better than you can? Are you saying the father is totally inept at caring for house plants, let alone children and this virus is far too much of a challenge for him to be able to get right? Are you saying you secretly have Florence Nightingale syndrome and the highlight of your parenting career is the times your child is ill and you spend your nights sleepless and your days full of temperature taking and dosing up your children?
Miss K's dad can be a total screw up, a fact which I gently remind him of at any chance I get. But by withholding our child from visiting him simply because she is sick, I would be telling him loud and clear; "You are not good enough."and that is simply not a message I care to send to him or our daughter. I want her to know that when the chips are down he will be there for her, and that message needs to be sent from day one. Whether it be a virus or a bastard ex, she needs to know that her dad will be there for her no matter what. On the other hand he needs to learn exactly what it means to be there for her when she needs it. He needs to get used to comforting her, wiping away her tears and making her feel better. Unless he has practise at doing this there is no way in hell he will ever be good at it. Now I'm not saying he sucks at it now, he is a very devoted dad who does everything in his power to love and care for our daughter. But as she gets older her needs change. Once upon a time all of her boo-boos could be kissed away but that's not the case so much. As parents we both need to be present for all of the changes otherwise we get left behind and stop being effective at our job.
As the primary caregiver I am the chief snot wiper and boo-boo kisser, and that is how it has been for over five years now. I've lost count of how many colds I have weathered, how many times I've caught vomit in my hands (or on my shirt) and how many cups of vile tasting medicine I have given over the past five years, nor do I care to count them. They are all just threads that make up the fabric of my life as Miss K's parent. But I am not her only parent, and because of this I am happy to step aside every now and again and let her dad take the reins for a few days and see what it means caring for someone who has half his genes. (Side note, they are the ones responsible for her total lack of inside voice). But because I am still mum, even when she's not in the same town as me I'll still be worried sick and totally unable to sleep this weekend, but that just goes with the territory.
Miss K is sick at the moment with a particularly nasty virus in her chest. I had it for three weeks, mum's on week two at the moment and Miss K is on day three. She currently sounds like a sixty year old man who has smoked a pack of cigarettes a day for the past forty years every time she coughs. I have an arsenal of pain killers and cough medicines in my pantry and every four hours I dutifully dole out the next dose of vile medicine much to her disgust. I'm sure she is convinced that my various treatments are going to kill her before the virus does.
But come tomorrow morning all of this stops. I dose my daughter up one last time, then I bundle her into a train and hand her over to her father for four days, during which time it officially becomes his duty to be chief snot remover and poison dispenser. Even before I was a single mother with my own custody agreement in place, this always seemed like the normal thing to do. You have a visitation scheduled, it happens unless a body part is falling off, and even then if it can be sewn back on in time the visit should still be able to happen. But my time working for a lawyer taught me that this isn't actually the case a lot of the time, and it doesn't seem right.
Now there is always a back story to every relationship, so I'm not saying that my way is the only right way and everyone else who does this differently is an idiot, but I wonder what the mothers who do keep kids home sick from a custody visit are saying when they make this decision. Are you saying that there is no one in the world who could possibly care for your ailing child better than you can? Are you saying the father is totally inept at caring for house plants, let alone children and this virus is far too much of a challenge for him to be able to get right? Are you saying you secretly have Florence Nightingale syndrome and the highlight of your parenting career is the times your child is ill and you spend your nights sleepless and your days full of temperature taking and dosing up your children?
Miss K's dad can be a total screw up, a fact which I gently remind him of at any chance I get. But by withholding our child from visiting him simply because she is sick, I would be telling him loud and clear; "You are not good enough."and that is simply not a message I care to send to him or our daughter. I want her to know that when the chips are down he will be there for her, and that message needs to be sent from day one. Whether it be a virus or a bastard ex, she needs to know that her dad will be there for her no matter what. On the other hand he needs to learn exactly what it means to be there for her when she needs it. He needs to get used to comforting her, wiping away her tears and making her feel better. Unless he has practise at doing this there is no way in hell he will ever be good at it. Now I'm not saying he sucks at it now, he is a very devoted dad who does everything in his power to love and care for our daughter. But as she gets older her needs change. Once upon a time all of her boo-boos could be kissed away but that's not the case so much. As parents we both need to be present for all of the changes otherwise we get left behind and stop being effective at our job.
As the primary caregiver I am the chief snot wiper and boo-boo kisser, and that is how it has been for over five years now. I've lost count of how many colds I have weathered, how many times I've caught vomit in my hands (or on my shirt) and how many cups of vile tasting medicine I have given over the past five years, nor do I care to count them. They are all just threads that make up the fabric of my life as Miss K's parent. But I am not her only parent, and because of this I am happy to step aside every now and again and let her dad take the reins for a few days and see what it means caring for someone who has half his genes. (Side note, they are the ones responsible for her total lack of inside voice). But because I am still mum, even when she's not in the same town as me I'll still be worried sick and totally unable to sleep this weekend, but that just goes with the territory.
Saturday, 21 May 2016
May Fly on the Wall - Things that Kept me Smiling in Spite of Myself
Welcome again wonderful people to yet another in the Fly on the Wall series. Anyone who read my post last week about my bad news may be surprised to see me joining in this month, but right now laughter is the best medicine, and my friends and family made sure to keep me laughing all month long. I'm sure you all know the drill by now, but if you're a newbie I'll explain it anyway. Today a group of 9 bloggers have all gotten together to share all of the crazy that you'd see every day if you were a fly on their wall.
But before I get into the fun, allow me to introduce you to all the other bloggers joining in this month with the craziness, be sure to visit them all and keep the medicine flowing right to the end of the bottle.
Apparently this month Miss K had cows on the brain because we had a lot of discussions that ended up being about cows for some reason.
Me: Can you please stop eating like a little piggy and eat like a little lady?
Miss K: No, I'm not a little old lady.
Ady: Really? What are you then?
Miss K: I'm a piggy and a cow.
Miss K still has some speech issues, but I'm struggling to figure them all out, so one day while we were working on her sentences this came out.
Me: Can you say the quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog?
Miss K: The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy cow!
Me: Not quite but close enough.
Me: Miss K did you just fart?
Miss K: No, it must have been the cow.
Me: But I don't see any cows in the room
Miss K: You're the cow mum.
I wasn't sure whether to be more offended that she was calling me a cow or blaming me for her farts. I'm still not sure.
Mum made Miss K a sandwich one day, and cut it into triangles.
Miss K: This sandwich tastes great granny, but it would taste even better if it was cut into squares.
Mum: I'm sorry, I thought you might like triangles for once.
Miss K: No, I only like squares.
Sadly mum did not learn her lesson and made her another sandwich cut into triangles the next day too. I have now taken over sandwich duties again for the sake of everyone's sanity.
During one of my visits to hospital earlier this month they gave me a script for a tablet that wasn't to be taken orally. I went to the in-hospital chemist to pick it up and saw they had a pharmacy intern running the front desk. He was run off his feet, so I just waited quietly till it was my turn and gave him my name. He ran off to get my tablets, but once he saw exactly what it was that had been dispensed he told me he needed to run away and let a female pharmacist explain them to me. It took all of my strength not to laugh at him and cluck as he literally ran away from the desk. I did feel sorry for the poor guy though.
This is why you shouldn't call me when I'm bored.
Me: (answering a call from Nat) Your mother is a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries
Nat: I fart in your general direction
Me: Go away or I shall taunt you a second time.
Nat: Most people just say hello.
Me: Hey at least I was speaking English this time.
For anyone who doesn't get that reference, check out this Monty Python and the Holy Grail video. All of my best ever insults have come from this scene.
Miss K was being a real pain in the rear one night at dinner. I didn't have the energy to fight her over every mouthful, so mum had been pulling her up, but it was getting exhausting.
Mum: Can I run away from home now?
Miss K: No!!
Mum: But why not?
Miss K: Because you're my best.
Luckily mum decided to stay after that. Flattery will get you everywhere in this world.
It seems that Miss K has inherited my hearing troubles.
Me: Miss K do you know what you're doing tomorrow?
Miss K: C is for cookies?
Me: Yes it is, but that's not what I asked.
Miss K: Mum does my forehead have a name?
Me: Yes it does, it's called your forehead.
Miss K: No, I have a fivehead.
While in Inverloch we watched Hairspray, which I've never seen before. This happened at the end of it.
Me: That's it, I've figured it out.
Sam: What?
Me: I was trying to figure out who John Travolta reminded me of in that movie.
Sam: And who does he remind you of?
Me: He reminds me of Ryan Stiles doing an impersonation of Carol Channing.
I want to take a quick second to thank everyone who has contacted me in whatever way over the past few weeks to share your condolences, your stories, and your love. I am truly touched to have such a wonderful big web of people standing behind me in the good times and the bad, and you are all awesome. Big love and hugs to each and every one of you.
But before I get into the fun, allow me to introduce you to all the other bloggers joining in this month with the craziness, be sure to visit them all and keep the medicine flowing right to the end of the bottle.
Baking In A Tornado http://www.bakinginatornado.
Juicebox Confession http://www.juiceboxconfession.
Menopausal Mother http://www.menopausalmom.com/
Spatulas on Parade http://spatulasonparade.
Searching for Sanity http://singlemumplusone.
Never Ever Give Up Hope http://batteredhope.blogspot.
Dinosaur Superhero Mommy http://dinoheromommy.com/2016/05/20/fly-on-the-wall-may/
Southern Belle Charm http://www.southernbellecharm.
My Brain on Kids http://mybrainonkids.net
Apparently this month Miss K had cows on the brain because we had a lot of discussions that ended up being about cows for some reason.
Me: Can you please stop eating like a little piggy and eat like a little lady?
Miss K: No, I'm not a little old lady.
Ady: Really? What are you then?
Miss K: I'm a piggy and a cow.
Miss K still has some speech issues, but I'm struggling to figure them all out, so one day while we were working on her sentences this came out.
Me: Can you say the quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog?
Miss K: The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy cow!
Me: Not quite but close enough.
Me: Miss K did you just fart?
Miss K: No, it must have been the cow.
Me: But I don't see any cows in the room
Miss K: You're the cow mum.
I wasn't sure whether to be more offended that she was calling me a cow or blaming me for her farts. I'm still not sure.
Mum made Miss K a sandwich one day, and cut it into triangles.
Miss K: This sandwich tastes great granny, but it would taste even better if it was cut into squares.
Mum: I'm sorry, I thought you might like triangles for once.
Miss K: No, I only like squares.
Sadly mum did not learn her lesson and made her another sandwich cut into triangles the next day too. I have now taken over sandwich duties again for the sake of everyone's sanity.
During one of my visits to hospital earlier this month they gave me a script for a tablet that wasn't to be taken orally. I went to the in-hospital chemist to pick it up and saw they had a pharmacy intern running the front desk. He was run off his feet, so I just waited quietly till it was my turn and gave him my name. He ran off to get my tablets, but once he saw exactly what it was that had been dispensed he told me he needed to run away and let a female pharmacist explain them to me. It took all of my strength not to laugh at him and cluck as he literally ran away from the desk. I did feel sorry for the poor guy though.
This is why you shouldn't call me when I'm bored.
Me: (answering a call from Nat) Your mother is a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries
Nat: I fart in your general direction
Me: Go away or I shall taunt you a second time.
Nat: Most people just say hello.
Me: Hey at least I was speaking English this time.
For anyone who doesn't get that reference, check out this Monty Python and the Holy Grail video. All of my best ever insults have come from this scene.
Miss K was being a real pain in the rear one night at dinner. I didn't have the energy to fight her over every mouthful, so mum had been pulling her up, but it was getting exhausting.
Mum: Can I run away from home now?
Miss K: No!!
Mum: But why not?
Miss K: Because you're my best.
Luckily mum decided to stay after that. Flattery will get you everywhere in this world.
It seems that Miss K has inherited my hearing troubles.
Me: Miss K do you know what you're doing tomorrow?
Miss K: C is for cookies?
Me: Yes it is, but that's not what I asked.
Miss K: Mum does my forehead have a name?
Me: Yes it does, it's called your forehead.
Miss K: No, I have a fivehead.
While in Inverloch we watched Hairspray, which I've never seen before. This happened at the end of it.
Me: That's it, I've figured it out.
Sam: What?
Me: I was trying to figure out who John Travolta reminded me of in that movie.
Sam: And who does he remind you of?
Me: He reminds me of Ryan Stiles doing an impersonation of Carol Channing.
I want to take a quick second to thank everyone who has contacted me in whatever way over the past few weeks to share your condolences, your stories, and your love. I am truly touched to have such a wonderful big web of people standing behind me in the good times and the bad, and you are all awesome. Big love and hugs to each and every one of you.
Saturday, 19 March 2016
March Fly on the Wall
Welcome again to another monthly episode of Fly on the Wall. For any of you who are unfamiliar with the premise, what happens is every month a group of bloggers joins forces to share all the crazy and weird things you'd see and hear were you a fly on one of our walls.
Below is the list of bloggers who are participating this month, be sure to visit them all and see that I'm not the only mad one around here.
Upon seeing that Miss K had spilt an entire marble run game over the living room floor:
Mum: Look at that, now your balls are all over the floor.
Me: I'm debating whether or not to have a nap. That's really the only reason I shipped Miss K off to kindergarten, so I could have daytime sleeps.
My brother in law Jason shaved off his signature goatee this month, which for some reason always causes a lot of discussion in our family. This time he didn't even warn anyone before he did it, so the first we all knew about it was when he came home one day after work with a naked face. This was the conversation...
Sam: What did you do?
Jason: I just felt like a change.
Sam: World's greatest shave?
Me: No, world's weakest chin.
Eliza: At least he makes up for it in nose size
Mum and I were making up a shopping list...
Mum: And Malteasers, in case I feel like them.
Me: Did you say Malteasers to pay for the funeral?
Kim was struggling to open a high chair at work one day. Her boss walked up and rescued the chair from her wrenching, and got it opened in two seconds, Kim decided to walk off in a huff, and yelled behind her to the laughing boss "Shut up, I never graduated high school OK?" Her boss then yelled back "You have a diploma in child care."
Miss K and I were sitting on her bed chatting one night, when I stood up she patted my backside.
Miss K: You have a big bum mum.
Me: I know honey, I ate too much sugar when I was younger. But if someone has a big bum, trust me when I say they know they have a big bum, so you should never point it out to them.
Miss K: But you do have a big bum right?
So glad she learns so much from me.
Miss K and I were at my friend Frankie's for dinner one night when two of his friends stopped in for a visit. The husband and Frankie went outside to look at his car, and I stayed inside chatting with the wife, who is originally from Texas. We were having a lovely discussion about her home town when Miss K decided we were being boring and wanted some attention. So she starts stroking the lady's face and declares "You're really old." I was mortified because this lovely lady is only ten years older than me, and hasn't aged too badly at all, but luckily she took it well and laughed. I think I need to have a discussion with Miss K about appropriate declarations to make to strangers.
Miss K: Mum, I'll be me, and you be Nonna.
Me: What? Why?
Miss K: Nonna, I'm hungry.
Me: Right. And what would Nonna say right now?
Miss K: Here, have some food.
So two days before I was meant to post this, Miss K took a tumble while running around the house (if I've told her once, I've told her a million times not to run in the house) and she ended up with a concussion. It wouldn't have been such a big deal except I was already babysitting my niece and nephew that day, so I had to rally the whole family to help me organise school pick ups, getting Miss K and I to the doctors so they could check her out, and look after a baby. In between scheduling medications and ducking streams of vomit I may have gone slightly more insane, but at the end of the day Miss K was over the worst of it, and everything else that had to be done that day got done. It's times like this I'm so grateful I have such a big and caring family, who all pitched in to keep us going. Miss K is back to her smiling, bubbly self now, and seems to be suffering from no ill effects after trying to scramble her brain. In fact her biggest annoyance about the whole day was that she had to miss kindergarten because of it.
Well that's all from me this month, I'm off to remind Miss K "gently" that she's not meant to be doing pirouettes in the living room again. Apparently she'll never learn.
Below is the list of bloggers who are participating this month, be sure to visit them all and see that I'm not the only mad one around here.
Upon seeing that Miss K had spilt an entire marble run game over the living room floor:
Mum: Look at that, now your balls are all over the floor.
Me: I'm debating whether or not to have a nap. That's really the only reason I shipped Miss K off to kindergarten, so I could have daytime sleeps.
My brother in law Jason shaved off his signature goatee this month, which for some reason always causes a lot of discussion in our family. This time he didn't even warn anyone before he did it, so the first we all knew about it was when he came home one day after work with a naked face. This was the conversation...
Sam: What did you do?
Jason: I just felt like a change.
Sam: World's greatest shave?
Me: No, world's weakest chin.
Eliza: At least he makes up for it in nose size
Mum and I were making up a shopping list...
Mum: And Malteasers, in case I feel like them.
Me: Did you say Malteasers to pay for the funeral?
Kim was struggling to open a high chair at work one day. Her boss walked up and rescued the chair from her wrenching, and got it opened in two seconds, Kim decided to walk off in a huff, and yelled behind her to the laughing boss "Shut up, I never graduated high school OK?" Her boss then yelled back "You have a diploma in child care."
Miss K and I were sitting on her bed chatting one night, when I stood up she patted my backside.
Miss K: You have a big bum mum.
Me: I know honey, I ate too much sugar when I was younger. But if someone has a big bum, trust me when I say they know they have a big bum, so you should never point it out to them.
Miss K: But you do have a big bum right?
So glad she learns so much from me.
Miss K and I were at my friend Frankie's for dinner one night when two of his friends stopped in for a visit. The husband and Frankie went outside to look at his car, and I stayed inside chatting with the wife, who is originally from Texas. We were having a lovely discussion about her home town when Miss K decided we were being boring and wanted some attention. So she starts stroking the lady's face and declares "You're really old." I was mortified because this lovely lady is only ten years older than me, and hasn't aged too badly at all, but luckily she took it well and laughed. I think I need to have a discussion with Miss K about appropriate declarations to make to strangers.
Miss K: Mum, I'll be me, and you be Nonna.
Me: What? Why?
Miss K: Nonna, I'm hungry.
Me: Right. And what would Nonna say right now?
Miss K: Here, have some food.
So two days before I was meant to post this, Miss K took a tumble while running around the house (if I've told her once, I've told her a million times not to run in the house) and she ended up with a concussion. It wouldn't have been such a big deal except I was already babysitting my niece and nephew that day, so I had to rally the whole family to help me organise school pick ups, getting Miss K and I to the doctors so they could check her out, and look after a baby. In between scheduling medications and ducking streams of vomit I may have gone slightly more insane, but at the end of the day Miss K was over the worst of it, and everything else that had to be done that day got done. It's times like this I'm so grateful I have such a big and caring family, who all pitched in to keep us going. Miss K is back to her smiling, bubbly self now, and seems to be suffering from no ill effects after trying to scramble her brain. In fact her biggest annoyance about the whole day was that she had to miss kindergarten because of it.
Well that's all from me this month, I'm off to remind Miss K "gently" that she's not meant to be doing pirouettes in the living room again. Apparently she'll never learn.
Thursday, 19 November 2015
National Family Caregivers Month
November is National Family Caregivers Month. This is the time where the people who care for their sick and ailing family members are recognised for their hard work, sacrifice and above all love. I was recently contacted by Heather Von St James, a brave and incredible woman who survived Mesothelioma. She documents her story over on her blog, which you can find here. She has asked me to discuss National Family Caregivers Month, to help shed some light on this wonderful cause.
Caregivers are all around us. They care for their parents, their children, their spouses, their siblings or their grandparents. They give up their own lives to make sure the people they love are cared for in the best possible way, so now is the best time to find a caregiver you know and let them know their effort is appreciated. Being a caregiver can be a thankless task, made harder by the fact that you spend your time watching someone you love suffer. Caregivers must put aside all of their own feelings and issues and put the needs of their loved ones first. This can be a challenge for most of us, but caregivers do it on a daily basis, without expecting a word of thanks from anyone.
A female lawyer I met through my work at the family law firm is currently caring for her husband who is suffering Mesothelioma, just like Heather Von St James did. (For anyone who doesn't know, Mesothelioma is a rare and aggressive cancer caused by exposure to asbestos. The prognosis for anyone diagnosed with Mesothelioma can be grim.) This woman is now juggling being the sole provider for her family, caring for their small child, and caring for her husband as he undergoes the aggressive treatment necessary to treat Mesothelioma. (Treatments for Mesothelioma currently include surgery, either a pleuronectomy or a pneumonectomy, followed by months of chemotherapy, and then months of radiotherapy. These treatments make the sufferer very ill, but the alternative is much worse. For more information check out the Mesothelioma website) On top of that she has to put up with the "helpful" advice from other family members who are not currently helping her with her increased work load. When her family first got the diagnosis my boss told us to let her vent to us whenever she needed it, as it was clear she wasn't going to get this opportunity elsewhere, so whenever she made one of her infrequent visits to our office, the office manager would take her off and listen to her, sometimes for up to an hour at a time. During this time she'd cry, she'd get angry, she'd laugh, and then she would leave, returning back to her life until the next time she needed a sympathetic ear. While our office manager could do nothing to actually lessen her work, she could still help her at a time when anyone would feel absolutely hopeless.
I always had the utmost respect for this woman, but more so when I saw how hard her life became once her husband was diagnosed. It never stopped her from getting up every single morning and doing everything she had to just to keep her family going. It didn't mean she never cried or got upset, she is still human, but she never let her sadness stop her from being a loving mother and wife, and an amazing lawyer. This is the kind of selfless work carers do every single day, and for that they need to be thanked.
So if you know someone who is caring for a family member, do something today to let them know their hard work is not only noticed, but appreciated. And if you are one of the more than 60 million caregivers in the United States alone, or one of the millions of caregivers from around the rest of the world, thank you.
Saturday, 20 June 2015
June Fly on the Wall
Welcome again to another Fly on the Wall. This series is about sharing all the little things that we all do that are never enough on their own for a blog post, but tend to group together nicely in a post like this, just to show you that even the flies in our house are ashamed to know us. Today 18 bloggers are participating in the challenge, and their links are written below. Be sure to visit all of them, even if only to make you feel just a little bit better about how insane you are.
My brother law was recently diagnosed as diabetic. I never knew just how inappropriate conversations about blood tests could be until we all decided to play with his new blood sugar tester.
Me: Did you prick me already? I didn't feel a thing.
Sam: That's what she said.
Me: You're going to have to prick me again, I got nothing out of that one.
Me: I'm getting nothing out of this one.
Jason: Squeeze it harder then.
*inappropriate giggling from every adult in the room*
Sam: I want Eliza to have a turn. Where's his little jabby thing?
*inappropriate giggling from me*
Sam: I said his LITTLE jabby thing.
Needless to say that didn't stop the giggling.
Me: Life is more like a soap opera than we realise. The only difference is we don't do the longing stares into the difference when things go wrong.
Mum: That is so true. I'm going to make it my life's mission now to do that stare into the distance whenever something goes wrong. Can I get some dramatic music too?
Kim and I were discussing recipes from our childhood with mum when we started talking about a recipe mum had when she was a kid. This is the conversation that ensued.
Mum: I was about to say I'd ask mum, but never mind*
Me: Did you really? Aww mum.
Kim: Hold on, let me get out the ouija board...0408
Me: Hang on, that's my number, I'm not dead yet, don't summon me!
*My grandma has been dead 25 years, which somehow makes mum's initial comment even sadder.
Nat: I had to get the dinner cart downstairs to the kids at work the other day, but I hate taking the elevator, so I stuck the dinner cart on the elevator, pushed the button then raced the elevator down the stairs. Unfortunately I got halfway down the stairs and forgot what I was doing, so I just went back to my room and left the cart to ride the elevator. It could have ended up in the basement if my room leader hadn't got it for me.
Me: Did you know that strawberry flavouring comes from beaver secretions, from their scent gland.
Nat: Really? I have strawberry flavoured lip gloss.
Me: Oh. Well then, enjoy putting your beaver secretions on your lips.
Me: I feel it is inappropriate to break into 1980's songs when yelling at the children.
The court house in the town I work in has a massive circuit every three months, and all the local people going through the family law courts can have their matters heard in the area. It saves everyone having to travel an hour and a half to the next closest family law courts. The joys of living in a rural area. The latest circuit just happened this last week, and we had thirty matters going through the court in one week. Most of them happened in the first day so I had to help my boss get the case files for about 25 matters to the court house, which is half a block away from our office, so we walked the files down. I was carrying about 20 kilos worth of paperwork the whole trip, then we got to the court house and found that they were doing security scans at the front door, which meant that entry was in single file, and the queue to enter was the length of the building. Needless to say by the time we got the files into the court room my arms and legs were like jelly. The sore muscles I ended up with lasted another three days. The pain ended up so bad Miss K had to pull me up the stairs into my sister's house when I went to pick her up at night. I'm now going to request we get office skate boards before next circuit. The added bonus is I will look mega cool when I ride it down to the cafe every week to pick up our milk.
Miss K has fortnightly speech therapy sessions in a nearby town. This is a conversation she has with our therapist every single week. You would think the woman would learn by now she needs to rephrase this question.
Chloe: What is this girl doing?
Miss K: She's eating a burger.
Chloe: And where is she eating the burger?
Miss K: (pointing to the picture) Right there.
Well that's all from me for this month, be sure to buzz back again next month for another installment of crazy.
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My brother law was recently diagnosed as diabetic. I never knew just how inappropriate conversations about blood tests could be until we all decided to play with his new blood sugar tester.
Me: Did you prick me already? I didn't feel a thing.
Sam: That's what she said.
Me: You're going to have to prick me again, I got nothing out of that one.
Me: I'm getting nothing out of this one.
Jason: Squeeze it harder then.
*inappropriate giggling from every adult in the room*
Sam: I want Eliza to have a turn. Where's his little jabby thing?
*inappropriate giggling from me*
Sam: I said his LITTLE jabby thing.
Needless to say that didn't stop the giggling.
Me: Life is more like a soap opera than we realise. The only difference is we don't do the longing stares into the difference when things go wrong.
Mum: That is so true. I'm going to make it my life's mission now to do that stare into the distance whenever something goes wrong. Can I get some dramatic music too?
Kim and I were discussing recipes from our childhood with mum when we started talking about a recipe mum had when she was a kid. This is the conversation that ensued.
Mum: I was about to say I'd ask mum, but never mind*
Me: Did you really? Aww mum.
Kim: Hold on, let me get out the ouija board...0408
Me: Hang on, that's my number, I'm not dead yet, don't summon me!
*My grandma has been dead 25 years, which somehow makes mum's initial comment even sadder.
Nat: I had to get the dinner cart downstairs to the kids at work the other day, but I hate taking the elevator, so I stuck the dinner cart on the elevator, pushed the button then raced the elevator down the stairs. Unfortunately I got halfway down the stairs and forgot what I was doing, so I just went back to my room and left the cart to ride the elevator. It could have ended up in the basement if my room leader hadn't got it for me.
Me: Did you know that strawberry flavouring comes from beaver secretions, from their scent gland.
Nat: Really? I have strawberry flavoured lip gloss.
Me: Oh. Well then, enjoy putting your beaver secretions on your lips.
Me: I feel it is inappropriate to break into 1980's songs when yelling at the children.
The court house in the town I work in has a massive circuit every three months, and all the local people going through the family law courts can have their matters heard in the area. It saves everyone having to travel an hour and a half to the next closest family law courts. The joys of living in a rural area. The latest circuit just happened this last week, and we had thirty matters going through the court in one week. Most of them happened in the first day so I had to help my boss get the case files for about 25 matters to the court house, which is half a block away from our office, so we walked the files down. I was carrying about 20 kilos worth of paperwork the whole trip, then we got to the court house and found that they were doing security scans at the front door, which meant that entry was in single file, and the queue to enter was the length of the building. Needless to say by the time we got the files into the court room my arms and legs were like jelly. The sore muscles I ended up with lasted another three days. The pain ended up so bad Miss K had to pull me up the stairs into my sister's house when I went to pick her up at night. I'm now going to request we get office skate boards before next circuit. The added bonus is I will look mega cool when I ride it down to the cafe every week to pick up our milk.
Miss K has fortnightly speech therapy sessions in a nearby town. This is a conversation she has with our therapist every single week. You would think the woman would learn by now she needs to rephrase this question.
Chloe: What is this girl doing?
Miss K: She's eating a burger.
Chloe: And where is she eating the burger?
Miss K: (pointing to the picture) Right there.
Well that's all from me for this month, be sure to buzz back again next month for another installment of crazy.
Saturday, 29 June 2013
First week as a working mum
So I had a feeling it would be some time before I felt I had enough energy to come back to you guys, and I wasn't wrong. So first before I get to the point of today's post, a quick update on the little things that have happened this week.
Miss K got over her gastro after about five days. We only had spewing for three of those days, and yuck nappies for another day. She has now been clever enough to catch a cold on my first day off, so I've been dealing with snot these past three days, which while still gross is a lot easier on my sensitive gag reflex. Her dad has split up with his girlfriend and moved back to his mother's house in Melbourne, (no huge surprises there, I've been predicting this would happen for about 2 weeks now.) so we're back to square one when it comes to his visits. We missed speech therapy last week, because of her stomach bug, but we were back again this week and she is improving with such speed it is wonderful to watch. I now need to go out and buy her a few jigsaw puzzles, because she played with some at speech therapy and was so good at it, I feel it's something we need to bring into the house. Miss K is also adjusting brilliantly to spending so much time at her aunty's house, possibly because she has so much fun there. This week alone they went toy shopping, visited my nephew's kindergarten and went to a cafe for lunch. There have been no tantrums when I leave for work, no tears or clinging or anything negative at all. I get a wave and a kiss and she returns to playing. It has definitely made returning to work a lot easier that she is so OK with me not being around all the time. Also knowing that she is in the best place possible means I don't spend the day worrying if she is OK. Of course this week may be different given she is unwell, but I've already been reassured that a sticky green nose isn't a problem.
Now on to the point of today's post. I've been back at work for three days now, and when I thought about going back to work, I always thought the hardest part of the whole process would be leaving Miss K behind. It turns out that was the easiest part. I know I should be going easy on myself as I've been out of the workforce for three years now, but I suck at my job. It has been so long since I've been this bad at my work and it feels terrible. Once upon a time I used to put a lot of stock into the fact that I could learn new jobs fairly quickly, which made being a temp worker a breeze. In fact the first time I got this job it started as a temporary assignment when one of their secretaries up and quit very quickly, and I was so good at the job she asked me to stay on once the contract was finished. It was probably a huge risk for her, given I had next to zero experience working in a solicitor's office, but she gave me the chance and I was grateful for it.
Well she's taken another huge risk taking me back again, for several reasons. The first being the last time I worked there I unceremoniously quit after 6 months, staying only long enough to train a new secretary to take my place, and two I've spent the last three years ignoring the many things I've learnt while working over the past ten years in lieu of tea parties and dirty nappies. And I'm paying for it now. I don't remember where they keep all the legal documents, I can't remember the process for filing things with the court, I had forgotten the security pass for the front door and locked myself out the first day I was there, and I am so very, very slow at completing my work right now. When I left there the last time, I was able to get through a basket of dictation in a day. This week it took me three days to get through a basket. But on the plus side I started a second basket on Wednesday, and managed to get through almost half of it by the end of the day. So I guess you could say I'm getting better, but it's going to take quite some time to get back to my former quality of work. Luckily for me my boss is completely understanding of my position, and is willing to give me the benefit of the doubt when it comes to what I am able to do (or will be able to do eventually.) It just means that for now she checks absolutely everything I do before she allows it to leave the office, which I am totally fine with.
So we are back to playing the wait and see game. I now have to wait and see how long it takes to get good at this job again, I have to wait and see if Miss K is going to be as happy to be left at her favourite aunty's house for three days in a row this week, and I have to wait and see if my big sister finally comes to her senses and realises that my darling daughter is Dennis the Menace in disguise and decides to start pretending she's not at home whenever we come over first thing in the morning. But in the mean time I do have to say how very grateful I am that I have so many people around who are so happy to turn their lives upside down so that I can get what I want. Especially my big sister and her whole family, who have suddenly become cured of any last hints of cluckiness in the past week. There is not a bunch of flowers big enough to say how thankful I am for their help.
Miss K got over her gastro after about five days. We only had spewing for three of those days, and yuck nappies for another day. She has now been clever enough to catch a cold on my first day off, so I've been dealing with snot these past three days, which while still gross is a lot easier on my sensitive gag reflex. Her dad has split up with his girlfriend and moved back to his mother's house in Melbourne, (no huge surprises there, I've been predicting this would happen for about 2 weeks now.) so we're back to square one when it comes to his visits. We missed speech therapy last week, because of her stomach bug, but we were back again this week and she is improving with such speed it is wonderful to watch. I now need to go out and buy her a few jigsaw puzzles, because she played with some at speech therapy and was so good at it, I feel it's something we need to bring into the house. Miss K is also adjusting brilliantly to spending so much time at her aunty's house, possibly because she has so much fun there. This week alone they went toy shopping, visited my nephew's kindergarten and went to a cafe for lunch. There have been no tantrums when I leave for work, no tears or clinging or anything negative at all. I get a wave and a kiss and she returns to playing. It has definitely made returning to work a lot easier that she is so OK with me not being around all the time. Also knowing that she is in the best place possible means I don't spend the day worrying if she is OK. Of course this week may be different given she is unwell, but I've already been reassured that a sticky green nose isn't a problem.
Now on to the point of today's post. I've been back at work for three days now, and when I thought about going back to work, I always thought the hardest part of the whole process would be leaving Miss K behind. It turns out that was the easiest part. I know I should be going easy on myself as I've been out of the workforce for three years now, but I suck at my job. It has been so long since I've been this bad at my work and it feels terrible. Once upon a time I used to put a lot of stock into the fact that I could learn new jobs fairly quickly, which made being a temp worker a breeze. In fact the first time I got this job it started as a temporary assignment when one of their secretaries up and quit very quickly, and I was so good at the job she asked me to stay on once the contract was finished. It was probably a huge risk for her, given I had next to zero experience working in a solicitor's office, but she gave me the chance and I was grateful for it.
Well she's taken another huge risk taking me back again, for several reasons. The first being the last time I worked there I unceremoniously quit after 6 months, staying only long enough to train a new secretary to take my place, and two I've spent the last three years ignoring the many things I've learnt while working over the past ten years in lieu of tea parties and dirty nappies. And I'm paying for it now. I don't remember where they keep all the legal documents, I can't remember the process for filing things with the court, I had forgotten the security pass for the front door and locked myself out the first day I was there, and I am so very, very slow at completing my work right now. When I left there the last time, I was able to get through a basket of dictation in a day. This week it took me three days to get through a basket. But on the plus side I started a second basket on Wednesday, and managed to get through almost half of it by the end of the day. So I guess you could say I'm getting better, but it's going to take quite some time to get back to my former quality of work. Luckily for me my boss is completely understanding of my position, and is willing to give me the benefit of the doubt when it comes to what I am able to do (or will be able to do eventually.) It just means that for now she checks absolutely everything I do before she allows it to leave the office, which I am totally fine with.
So we are back to playing the wait and see game. I now have to wait and see how long it takes to get good at this job again, I have to wait and see if Miss K is going to be as happy to be left at her favourite aunty's house for three days in a row this week, and I have to wait and see if my big sister finally comes to her senses and realises that my darling daughter is Dennis the Menace in disguise and decides to start pretending she's not at home whenever we come over first thing in the morning. But in the mean time I do have to say how very grateful I am that I have so many people around who are so happy to turn their lives upside down so that I can get what I want. Especially my big sister and her whole family, who have suddenly become cured of any last hints of cluckiness in the past week. There is not a bunch of flowers big enough to say how thankful I am for their help.
photo courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net
Would a field of flowers be enough? probably not.
Friday, 21 June 2013
How to deal with a spewy toddler
Hello again you fine ladies and gentlemen, you'll have to excuse my latest absence from the blogging world, but I have been up to my armpits in partially digested stomach contents since Monday, so I decided you lovely people had to be put on the back burner for a few days until Miss K got over her gastro. Now every single time I have ever encountered gastroenteritis in the past 29 years, it has always been a 24 hour lurgy. One whole day of misery and discomfort, followed by a few days spent recovering from the horror that is seeing everything you eat come back at you in technicolor. But Miss K likes to shake things up and keep me on my toes, so we've had 3 days of vomiting, followed by one day of me jumping every time she so much as twitched strangely. I also learned thanks to Miss K's Nonna, as well as Nurse on Call and one of our local doctors, that gastro doesn't always last a mere 24 hours. I've been helpfully told that it can go for as long as ten days. That's a lot of vomit.
Well this whole week has been one giant learning curve for me, as this is the first time I've ever had to care for a child with gastro, so I have decided because I am just such a kind and giving person that I needed to share my new found knowledge with you guys. If there is anyone out there who is yet to have a child (one of my good friends Kelly is due to pop very soon, if she hasn't already so this may be hugely helpful for her) then this may help you guys to avoid making the same mistakes I did this week. So grab a pencil and a notepad, and make sure you haven't eaten anything too heavy before reading this, because it gets pretty yucky.
1. Don't wear your finest clothes for a while
This is a big one. You will get vomited on. Several times if you're lucky. So you're going to need to make sure you leave your dry clean only clothes in the closet until the infection is well and truly out of your house. Stick to dark colours, something that is easy to rip off while you are dealing with a screaming child that is also covered in vomit would also be helpful. Oh and a nice thick jumper probably wouldn't hurt as it can help prevent seepage into undergarments. Just saying.
2. Don't worry about trying to get them to the toilet in time
This one took me two whole days to learn. My first instinct when someone is doing a faithful recreation of that scene from the exorcist is to try to get them to the toilet or at least a basin as fast as possible. The problem with this is small children lack the ability to hold it in until you get them to an appropriate receptacle, meaning that you'll probably end up with a clean toilet, but a nice long trail of vomit (or poop) for you to clean up. After I spent two days mopping every non carpeted floor in the house, and disinfecting every carpet in the house I started just carrying a bucket around with us. It saved a lot of time and cleaning.
3. Learn a few shortcuts to make this time easier
If you've got a kid with long hair, put it in plaits for a few days. Put a towel over their pillow to make cleaning up a bit easier. Put them in clothes that are easy to remove without spreading their entire digestive system over the rest of their body in the process. Place buckets strategically around the high traffic areas to save having to scramble for one at the last minute. It is the little things like this that will make dealing with stomach catastrophes easier to cope with.
4. Take any help that is offered to you
Now I don't know about you, but I feel guilty making other people clean up my daughter's spew. But the time it took to completely deal with a mess when I was alone compared to the time it took when I had helpers was a lot longer, and more stressful. On the plus side I was less embarrassed about mopping our floors and doing laundry in my underpants, until I remembered that it was pitch black outside, and I hadn't shut our laundry blinds, so if my neighbors were the spying kind, they would have seen everything. I'm going to assume that given that I haven't been presented with any bills for psychiatric counseling this week that no one was looking, but I'm still checking the mail every day just to make sure.
5. Don't feel ashamed if the little things get forgotten for a few days
So when you're dealing with sick children, you tend to get a lot of extra work piled on to your already giant to do list. There's the extra laundry, extra cleaning, extra hugs and kisses needed, extra fluids to hand out and lots of time spent worrying. If you can't be bothered cooking a three course meal for every healthy family member during this time, then don't. If you decide to stock your freezer with microwave meals and tell them to figure it out for themselves, more power to you. Now I can say with great happiness that I do not have a huge mess waiting for me once Miss K is completely healthy again, but that is only because I had mum here keeping the place clean, as well as my beautiful big sister who made her kids help tidy up the lounge room every day this week while they were visiting us. My laundry and Miss K's are only completely up to date because Miss K decided to test the stain resistance of every item we wore this week, so I had to keep on top of the washing so we didn't descend into total nudity before the end of the first day. Everything else was at the back of my mind.
6. Try not to spend too much time worrying
This is a hard one. Like I said at the very beginning, gastro can last up to ten days. That could mean ten days of freaking out because your darling little one is ill. It's a horrible bug, and it will knock the stuffing out of them, but they will survive it and so will you. I have almost cried every single day this week just from exhaustion and concern. I hate seeing my baby so sick, and I hate the feeling of being thrown up on. I hate having to refuse to give Miss K milk because you can't give a sick kid dairy (and Miss K loves her dairy products.) and I hate not being able to take her pain away the most. But today she almost had her old sparkle back in her eyes. She was playing almost like normal again, to the point where she was frog hopping around the doctor's surgery while we were waiting for him. It's been four long days since I've seen the old Miss K, but she is slowly (so very, very slowly) coming back to me, and we are almost at the end of this awful infection. And despite the sleepless nights and long days, we have both survived. But I'm sure I'll still be a twitchy nervous mess for another few days. I seriously hate vomit.
Well that's all from the quarantine for now, I'm off to get some well deserved sleep, and I think Miss K and I are going to tempt fate tomorrow morning by giving her a glass of milk. Her first one in four days, but I promised her today if she made it through an entire day without throwing up, we could start eating dairy again, and frankly, I think she's earned it.
Stay awesome everyone and I'll be back again soon hopefully.
Well this whole week has been one giant learning curve for me, as this is the first time I've ever had to care for a child with gastro, so I have decided because I am just such a kind and giving person that I needed to share my new found knowledge with you guys. If there is anyone out there who is yet to have a child (one of my good friends Kelly is due to pop very soon, if she hasn't already so this may be hugely helpful for her) then this may help you guys to avoid making the same mistakes I did this week. So grab a pencil and a notepad, and make sure you haven't eaten anything too heavy before reading this, because it gets pretty yucky.
1. Don't wear your finest clothes for a while
This is a big one. You will get vomited on. Several times if you're lucky. So you're going to need to make sure you leave your dry clean only clothes in the closet until the infection is well and truly out of your house. Stick to dark colours, something that is easy to rip off while you are dealing with a screaming child that is also covered in vomit would also be helpful. Oh and a nice thick jumper probably wouldn't hurt as it can help prevent seepage into undergarments. Just saying.
2. Don't worry about trying to get them to the toilet in time
This one took me two whole days to learn. My first instinct when someone is doing a faithful recreation of that scene from the exorcist is to try to get them to the toilet or at least a basin as fast as possible. The problem with this is small children lack the ability to hold it in until you get them to an appropriate receptacle, meaning that you'll probably end up with a clean toilet, but a nice long trail of vomit (or poop) for you to clean up. After I spent two days mopping every non carpeted floor in the house, and disinfecting every carpet in the house I started just carrying a bucket around with us. It saved a lot of time and cleaning.
3. Learn a few shortcuts to make this time easier
If you've got a kid with long hair, put it in plaits for a few days. Put a towel over their pillow to make cleaning up a bit easier. Put them in clothes that are easy to remove without spreading their entire digestive system over the rest of their body in the process. Place buckets strategically around the high traffic areas to save having to scramble for one at the last minute. It is the little things like this that will make dealing with stomach catastrophes easier to cope with.
4. Take any help that is offered to you
Now I don't know about you, but I feel guilty making other people clean up my daughter's spew. But the time it took to completely deal with a mess when I was alone compared to the time it took when I had helpers was a lot longer, and more stressful. On the plus side I was less embarrassed about mopping our floors and doing laundry in my underpants, until I remembered that it was pitch black outside, and I hadn't shut our laundry blinds, so if my neighbors were the spying kind, they would have seen everything. I'm going to assume that given that I haven't been presented with any bills for psychiatric counseling this week that no one was looking, but I'm still checking the mail every day just to make sure.
5. Don't feel ashamed if the little things get forgotten for a few days
So when you're dealing with sick children, you tend to get a lot of extra work piled on to your already giant to do list. There's the extra laundry, extra cleaning, extra hugs and kisses needed, extra fluids to hand out and lots of time spent worrying. If you can't be bothered cooking a three course meal for every healthy family member during this time, then don't. If you decide to stock your freezer with microwave meals and tell them to figure it out for themselves, more power to you. Now I can say with great happiness that I do not have a huge mess waiting for me once Miss K is completely healthy again, but that is only because I had mum here keeping the place clean, as well as my beautiful big sister who made her kids help tidy up the lounge room every day this week while they were visiting us. My laundry and Miss K's are only completely up to date because Miss K decided to test the stain resistance of every item we wore this week, so I had to keep on top of the washing so we didn't descend into total nudity before the end of the first day. Everything else was at the back of my mind.
6. Try not to spend too much time worrying
This is a hard one. Like I said at the very beginning, gastro can last up to ten days. That could mean ten days of freaking out because your darling little one is ill. It's a horrible bug, and it will knock the stuffing out of them, but they will survive it and so will you. I have almost cried every single day this week just from exhaustion and concern. I hate seeing my baby so sick, and I hate the feeling of being thrown up on. I hate having to refuse to give Miss K milk because you can't give a sick kid dairy (and Miss K loves her dairy products.) and I hate not being able to take her pain away the most. But today she almost had her old sparkle back in her eyes. She was playing almost like normal again, to the point where she was frog hopping around the doctor's surgery while we were waiting for him. It's been four long days since I've seen the old Miss K, but she is slowly (so very, very slowly) coming back to me, and we are almost at the end of this awful infection. And despite the sleepless nights and long days, we have both survived. But I'm sure I'll still be a twitchy nervous mess for another few days. I seriously hate vomit.
Well that's all from the quarantine for now, I'm off to get some well deserved sleep, and I think Miss K and I are going to tempt fate tomorrow morning by giving her a glass of milk. Her first one in four days, but I promised her today if she made it through an entire day without throwing up, we could start eating dairy again, and frankly, I think she's earned it.
Image courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net
Is it sad that this is our reward?
Stay awesome everyone and I'll be back again soon hopefully.
Saturday, 1 June 2013
Post traumatic memories
Hi all, I promise I'm still here and I definitely do still love you guys. I don't even have any real excuses why I haven't been around lately. I can't say I've been super busy traveling around the world or turning my child into the next Einstein or even cooking seven course meals full of healthy foods I can't even pronounce. (Although I did scald my finger while cooking frozen peas and corn today so does that count?) I guess I have just been struggling to find anything interesting to say to you guys, and I'd rather keep quiet for a few days rather than post inane crap for the sake of posting.
So first I'll do a quick update of what's been going on at la casa sanity this week, I turned 29, Miss K and I took a trip to visit Nonna, I finished another subject at school and am now taking a leisurely 2 weeks off before my next unit is available for study and Miss K is finally using 2 words at a time when she talks. We finished a round of group development therapy and we start a new round next week and Miss K's dad moved down here to be with us and his new girlfriend. (And his new girlfriend's absolutely gorgeous little boy who I totally want to steal. But I'm not clucky.)
But it hasn't been all sunshine and rainbows lately, and today I'm actually here to talk about something that still makes me uncomfortable to discuss publicly, despite the fact that this story is 2 years old now. Sadly it keeps rearing its head at the most unexpected of times, and I feel powerless every time it happens. So I know I have mentioned it several times over the past year of this blog, but at 2 weeks old Miss K became seriously ill and we almost lost her. Actually I think Miss K was ill from birth, but thanks to medical incompetence and my willingness to treat the doctors word like gospel it went largely ignored until she almost died.
So for the most part it is easy to forget the three weeks we spent in hospital, and the stress and fear and what ifs, and the further we get away from those two weeks the easier it gets. Of course the 7th of April is always a hard day for my whole family to get through, as that is the day we almost lost my mum and my daughter, but we each find our ways to cope with this day and try to move on. We have had countless discussions in my family, going over the events of that night over and over again, and while it doesn't hurt me to talk about it, it certainly never is a pleasant conversation, but it needs to be discussed. We need the release that comes with letting our memories out. But sometimes something comes up that none of us expect, that forces the memories to the surface in such a violent way, it becomes difficult to cope with.
Last night we were watching One Born Every Minute USA when the thing we are so madly trying to forget started happening on screen right in front of us. Now I love this TV show. Thankfully for me I didn't start watching it until after Miss K was born, otherwise I may have demanded a C-section from the very beginning. It certainly isn't a show for the weak stomached, and even with 2 years having passed since my own labour, I still find myself crossing my legs in sympathy when I watch these women go through their pain. The show normally follows the same arc, One older woman and one younger woman come into the maternity ward, we follow them through the long hours of pre-labour through labour right to the last push, then the mum holds the baby, there are tears all around and here are the end credits. Last night was different. Last night an infant went into distress after being born, while the cameras were rolling. And they showed it all. Now I'm not going to go into the nitty gritty details here, if any one of you are in the mood to have your day ruined, just look for episode 15 of season 2.
Now I'm pretty sure that this little baby did survive like my own did (we had to turn the telly off after we saw what we did, but I can only assume they didn't really air a story with a miserable ending) but that didn't make what we saw any less traumatic for us. All of those memories I have tried so hard to forget over the past two years came flooding back with a vengeance and it took all my strength not to cry. I felt worse because my baby sister watched the episode with us, and she was visibly upset by what we saw, largely because when Miss K stopped breathing, she was the one doing the resuscitating. And I couldn't comfort her because the only thing I could think of to say was we survived. I know it doesn't seem unreasonable to say that at least we came out at the end of it OK, but that doesn't take away the fact that for what seemed like the longest time, none of us knew if we would. Just saying "But we're OK now" seems to undermine the pain, the fear and the uncertainty we all felt at the time and I just couldn't do it to her. Needless to say we all ended up sneaking into Miss K's bedroom at some point during the rest of the evening just to watch her sleep.
I know I am lucky that my story ended up with a happy ending, and it is only because I have Miss K with me every day that I am not a puddle on the floor. I guess I'm just surprised that the memories still hurt as much today as they did 2 years ago.
Well that's all from me today, sorry if I've left you feeling blue, but hopefully this post has the cathartic effect I was hoping for, and I can be back again soon with more happier news. Until then, stay awesome my wonderful readers and thank you again for your patience in my sporadic writing.
So first I'll do a quick update of what's been going on at la casa sanity this week, I turned 29, Miss K and I took a trip to visit Nonna, I finished another subject at school and am now taking a leisurely 2 weeks off before my next unit is available for study and Miss K is finally using 2 words at a time when she talks. We finished a round of group development therapy and we start a new round next week and Miss K's dad moved down here to be with us and his new girlfriend. (And his new girlfriend's absolutely gorgeous little boy who I totally want to steal. But I'm not clucky.)
But it hasn't been all sunshine and rainbows lately, and today I'm actually here to talk about something that still makes me uncomfortable to discuss publicly, despite the fact that this story is 2 years old now. Sadly it keeps rearing its head at the most unexpected of times, and I feel powerless every time it happens. So I know I have mentioned it several times over the past year of this blog, but at 2 weeks old Miss K became seriously ill and we almost lost her. Actually I think Miss K was ill from birth, but thanks to medical incompetence and my willingness to treat the doctors word like gospel it went largely ignored until she almost died.
So for the most part it is easy to forget the three weeks we spent in hospital, and the stress and fear and what ifs, and the further we get away from those two weeks the easier it gets. Of course the 7th of April is always a hard day for my whole family to get through, as that is the day we almost lost my mum and my daughter, but we each find our ways to cope with this day and try to move on. We have had countless discussions in my family, going over the events of that night over and over again, and while it doesn't hurt me to talk about it, it certainly never is a pleasant conversation, but it needs to be discussed. We need the release that comes with letting our memories out. But sometimes something comes up that none of us expect, that forces the memories to the surface in such a violent way, it becomes difficult to cope with.
Last night we were watching One Born Every Minute USA when the thing we are so madly trying to forget started happening on screen right in front of us. Now I love this TV show. Thankfully for me I didn't start watching it until after Miss K was born, otherwise I may have demanded a C-section from the very beginning. It certainly isn't a show for the weak stomached, and even with 2 years having passed since my own labour, I still find myself crossing my legs in sympathy when I watch these women go through their pain. The show normally follows the same arc, One older woman and one younger woman come into the maternity ward, we follow them through the long hours of pre-labour through labour right to the last push, then the mum holds the baby, there are tears all around and here are the end credits. Last night was different. Last night an infant went into distress after being born, while the cameras were rolling. And they showed it all. Now I'm not going to go into the nitty gritty details here, if any one of you are in the mood to have your day ruined, just look for episode 15 of season 2.
Now I'm pretty sure that this little baby did survive like my own did (we had to turn the telly off after we saw what we did, but I can only assume they didn't really air a story with a miserable ending) but that didn't make what we saw any less traumatic for us. All of those memories I have tried so hard to forget over the past two years came flooding back with a vengeance and it took all my strength not to cry. I felt worse because my baby sister watched the episode with us, and she was visibly upset by what we saw, largely because when Miss K stopped breathing, she was the one doing the resuscitating. And I couldn't comfort her because the only thing I could think of to say was we survived. I know it doesn't seem unreasonable to say that at least we came out at the end of it OK, but that doesn't take away the fact that for what seemed like the longest time, none of us knew if we would. Just saying "But we're OK now" seems to undermine the pain, the fear and the uncertainty we all felt at the time and I just couldn't do it to her. Needless to say we all ended up sneaking into Miss K's bedroom at some point during the rest of the evening just to watch her sleep.
I know I am lucky that my story ended up with a happy ending, and it is only because I have Miss K with me every day that I am not a puddle on the floor. I guess I'm just surprised that the memories still hurt as much today as they did 2 years ago.
Well that's all from me today, sorry if I've left you feeling blue, but hopefully this post has the cathartic effect I was hoping for, and I can be back again soon with more happier news. Until then, stay awesome my wonderful readers and thank you again for your patience in my sporadic writing.
Wednesday, 27 March 2013
Spotlight on Mental health; My story
Hello again my wonderful audience, today I am going to be doing something a little bit different. As many of you know, I have depression. Now I know in this one I am not alone. A survey done by the Australian Bureau of Statistics back in 2007 showed that 45% of Australians suffered from some form of mental illness at some point in their life. That is a staggering 7.3 million people in Australia alone.
Now despite the fact that mental illness is so wide reaching, there is still too much shame and fear put into the words, so I am going to do my bit in demystifying mental illness by playing host to people who want to tell their side of the mental health story. To get things started, I thought it would be best if I told my story first, to get the spirit of sharing going. So welcome all to the first Spotlight on Mental Health.
Now despite the fact that mental illness is so wide reaching, there is still too much shame and fear put into the words, so I am going to do my bit in demystifying mental illness by playing host to people who want to tell their side of the mental health story. To get things started, I thought it would be best if I told my story first, to get the spirit of sharing going. So welcome all to the first Spotlight on Mental Health.
So I was diagnosed with depression over ten years ago now. It shouldn't have come as a shock to me considering I come from a family with a very long history of mental illness, but it still scared the hell out of me when the doctor confirmed my mum's suspicions. I had no idea that mum had been suspicious for months. Apparently it isn't normal to lock yourself in the bedroom for 18 hours a day and sleep for most of that. Who knew?
But it wasn't the constant sleep and withdrawing from everyone that pushed mum over the edge, it was the fact that I started cutting my wrists that forced her to drag me to the doctors. At the time I didn't realise exactly much I had changed over the past six months until the doctor started asking questions. That's when I started thinking about how I had been spending my life since leaving school. I had decided not to go on to university or TAFE and had gotten a job, but I didn't do anything apart from work and sleep. I had no desire to spend time with friends, or participate in any of my normal hobbies, or do anything other than sleep. I didn't feel sad or angry or anything except numb. And when things got too stressful I cut myself just to feel something.
Now I figured that the doctor had to be wrong about me. I wasn't depressed, I was just tired. Depressed people go around crying and yelling and talking to themselves all day. I just needed fifteen hours of sleep a night. As for the cutting thing, I just needed a way to relieve stress, it was no indication that I was ill. But with him and my mum both agreeing that I needed to start taking medication I quietly agreed and started taking anti-depressants. It took about two weeks for the meds to start doing their thing, and slowly I started coming out of my bedroom and interacting with the world around me again. And that's when I had to face my family.
What I hadn't realised at the time was that mental illness doesn't just affect the individual, it affects everyone in their life. I had a lot of angry, hurt and confused family members (some of them just children), and a lot of damaged relationships that I had to work very hard to repair. I think it took mum a long time to trust that I wasn't going to do anything stupid again, especially as for the next eight years, I kept doing stupid things. I hurt myself over and over again in various ways, I made terrible decisions about who I would date, or sleep with, or hang out with, and I kept trying to self destruct. Luckily for me my mum is an incredibly understanding and loving woman who could see that I needed help, and was always there for me. The same goes for the rest of my family. I truly believe I wouldn't be as OK as I am today if it wasn't for them.
And I am OK. I'm not completely cured, and I probably never will be. This is something that I am going to have to live with for the rest of my life, but because it has been ten years now I finally have it to a point where it is controlled. I take my medications, I talk to my family, I remind myself that I am incredibly lucky to be where I am and I never take the good days for granted. And I write. This blog has been the cheapest therapy I have ever had, and you guys are the best counsellors too.
So that's my story. It is far from over, I still have bad days where I can't even force myself to clean the house, but I am prepared for that now, and I know how to deal with it. But mine is just one of millions and millions of stories, so over the coming weeks, I am going to have some very special guests come along and share their stories with you as well. The first one is coming up next Wednesday and it will be from a lovely lady Becc, from Take Charge Now, so be on the lookout for that next week.
I'd like to finish by extending an open invitation to any of my readers out there who have a story to tell on mental illness, either as a patient, or as a family member of someone who has a mental illness, to get into touch with me, either through the contact me button at the top of this page, or through my Facebook or Twitter pages. The only way we can remove the negative is by speaking out.
Thursday, 6 December 2012
Miss K's first Christmas
Hello again my lovely readers, I'm back again for more bloggy goodness. I have decided that given that most of you weren't around to view Miss K's first Christmas (given that this blog was still 2 months away last December) that I would share the fun with you guys today. Now I am ashamed to say that if it wasn't for the dozens upon dozens of photos I took in December of last year, I would remember very little of Miss K's very first Christmas. In my defence I was still wearing my mum training wheels at the time, so a lot of those months are just a blur. Luckily for me (and all of you) I was a lot better at taking photos last year as there were so many amazing things I saw that just had to be captured as Miss K rolled over for the first time, sat on her own finally, smiled for the first time and all the other wonderful memories that babies create.
So of course the lead up to Christmas saw a lot of first; Miss K seeing a Christmas tree for the first time
So of course the lead up to Christmas saw a lot of first; Miss K seeing a Christmas tree for the first time
I think she's applauding it, but I can't be certain.
And of course decorated the Christmas tree for the first time. I do remember her being a lot more co-operative last year.
And of course on the big day she got to discover the joy that is ripping wrapping paper to shreds
And thanks to her many aunts and uncles (and Grandma of course) she was spoilt absolutely rotten too.
This is just the presents she got first thing in the morning before all the aunts and uncles descended on the house. The little walker down the bottom right most of you should recognise as the awesome toy that helped her to gain the confidence to finally walk earlier this year. The Elmo plane was Grandma's present, and both the babies of the family got one, and that white dress on the couch was a hand made gift from my wonderful aunty. Amazingly enough Miss K still fits in the dress 12 months later, but not for much longer I think.
Everyone loves a good button to push.
And of course what Christmas is complete without a heap of animated toys that sing Christmas carols to play with?
This little fellow is so well loved by all the kids in our family.
I don't know if she's wrestling with him or hugging him...
The one memory from Christmas that is still as clear as day is the fact that I ended up rushing Miss K to the emergency room 2 days before Christmas with a 39 degree fever, and ended up spending 4 hours waiting to see a doctor who put her on steroids and antiemetics, both of which are incredibly dangerous for babies to be taking. Of course her illness meant that her nose dripped more than our kitchen tap over the whole of Christmas, meaning I have had to Photoshop out a lot of unsightly boogers from our Christmas photos.
While the little things may be a blur now, I know that our Christmas last year was a lot of fun, and full of laughter and love, and my whole family being there to help celebrate. And I know I've probably said this before, but the real reason for me to celebrate this season is my family, and they are the ones that make this time of year a party, and something worth being around for.
Well that's it for me, I'd love to hear from you guys, so here's a question, hopefully to put you people in the mood to chat finally. What makes Christmas special for you guys?? Do you have any traditions that you have to follow every year, and how do you celebrate this season??
Well until next time, stay awesome my wonderful guests, and remember that little box down the bottom of this page is always open so please drop me a line and share your Christmas with me.
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