The day my head exploded

Today I had to make a call to the United States to participate in a teleclass that went for about an hour. I haven’t made any long distance calls recently, preferring to use Skype for international communication, but this option wasn’t available for this particular call so it was the old fashioned way…by telephone.  Because I haven’t called internationally for a while I thought I’d better find out what current international call rates were from my fixed line phone. So I decided to ring Telstra (our national telco) …that was my first mistake.

I began to navigate my way through the labyrinthine recorded options but after some time it became apparent that my seemingly simple request was too much for the robot. It asked me if I wanted to be put through to a ‘consultant’ I pressed ‘1’ for yes.  That was my second mistake.  

My consultant ‘John’ was very nice, extremely courteous and used lots of Autralianisms like ‘no worries’ making me feel very safe and at home. Ahem.

I posed my question “Hello John! What are the current call rates to the United States from my fixed line phone…I’m on the ‘Telstra Home Reach’ plan”.

Silence.

Then John asked me to hold for ‘a couple of minutes’. Five minutes later he came back and asked me who was calling me from the States.  I told him ‘no-one, I’m calling them’ and I repeated my request. He put me on hold again.

Next time he came back he asked me about my mobile phone. I told him it had nothing to do with my mobile, I was calling the United States from my FIXED LINE. 

Silence.

He put me on hold again.

This went on for some time…eventually he worked out what I wanted and began to explain the various options. That conversation made my ears bleed. Here’s a sample:

John (heavily accented):  If you call 0018 to a fixed line it is half hour free and $5.25

Me: Eh?

John: repeated the above

Me: What's free?

John: Half hour and $5.25

Me: Is it $5.25 per half hour?

John: Yes…………….and free.

Me: Which?

John: Half hour.

Me: No....is it $5.25 OR is it free?

John: Yes.

Me: It can't be both.

John: Yes

Me: No, it can't, it's either $5.25 or free....

John: Yes. It's $5.25…………….and free.

Me: Sigh. Is $5.25 for half an hour AND THEN free?

John: Yes…………….no, it's $5.25 and free.

Me: Aaaaaaaaaaaargh!!!

It was all like that. In total I spent 45 minutes on the phone with an enquiry which should have taken 5 minutes at the absolutely maximum.

I made the call anyway, I just hope I don’t get a bill for $80.

Enough

Just lately I’ve been thinking about what is enough. Or at least when am I enough? When is what I have done or what I do enough?

This thinking has been the result of a bit of soul searching on my part. Something I’ve avoided for quite some time because the trouble with searching is sometimes you find stuff and it’s not always pretty. However, my constant discontentment has forced me to take the advice I usually give to my clients and ‘go within’ just a little bit.

I’ve told you about my new job, how much I like it and the people I work with it and they seem to like me too. I also whined about the decisions I had to make about more study or continue with the business etc. I won’t go on about it again, I still don’t know what I’m doing. Anyway….what I have realised is that this is a bit of a pattern with me (at least in career terms). I run away from what I really want, find something that I quite like and will settle for, then decide that I have to BE MORE for this role so I start cramming my life with more hard work and study and angst about my abilities. Until one day I collapse in a heap of disillusion and depression and exhaustion – and slightly lose my mind for a little while. And then I start all over again.

Sigh.

Why do I do it, why am I constantly putting myself in the position of thinking I have to be more, always more. Never ok just as I am, never ENOUGH.

Jennifer Louden writes about the ‘Hounds of More’ she says “Hounds of More are petrified you won’t be able to do what you most yearn to do in your life, so they keep you running in circles, chasing your—and their!—tails.”

Mine are there, always snapping at my ankles making me go faster, search harder, grasp at more, and more and more. So much to do and learn and achieve and BE!

When in actual fact I don’t think I really want any more – at least not that stuff. I want a peaceful life, I want to plant a herb garden and draw again and grow some vegetables and walk the dog and play with the children.

I just haven’t quite worked out how to pacify the hounds.

The winter of my discontent

I’m quite surprised to find myself here writing a blog post so I can only imagine how surprised anyone reading it might be.

I’ve actually been thinking a lot about this blog recently, shall I keep it?, should I stop completely?, should I try to do one post a week?…do I need anymore ‘to do’ or ‘shoulds’ in my life? ‘should I continue to use appalling grammar?’

I don’t know.  I used to enjoy it (the blog not the bad grammar), I don’t anymore.  It’s not that I don’t have thoughts and feelings and plans and ‘stuff’ happening that I could write about.  I just don’t like it here anymore.  I still like the idea of blogging, I just don’t like this blog.  I’ve moved on, grown out of it, changed my direction (or should I say my directionless-ness, for I don’t think I’ve had any real direction for a long time and now I just have a new set of directionless issues).

I’d still like to talk about what I’m thinking, what’s happening Chez Bridget’s Flame, who annoys me, makes me happy, makes me laugh, frustrates me, inspires me and so on.  And I’m sure everyone is dying to hear all that crap fascinating information.

With spring just around the corner here in the arse end of the world, perhaps I will suddenly have a new lease on my blogging life and feel inspired to re-invent my blog identity. 

Perhaps.

Photo credit this blog right here

Couldn’t resist this photo…I love winter but the image still made me smile.

Chapter 3 – The girl who hasn’t a clue

I hope you haven’t all died of anticipation waiting for me to continue this fascinating study of my life.

I won’t keep you waiting a moment longer…

One of the things that I’ve liked about working at my new workplace is the encouragement I’ve had from senior people, I’ve had discussions with a couple of them and they have talked to me about the organisation’s mentoring program (to assist staff move forward on a career path). They’ve also asked me questions about my qualifications and plans for further study. They recognise that I’m not working in my field and that I have skills and qualifications to do much more than I am doing in this role. There are lots of very interesting jobs within this organisation and if I’m going to be working, I wouldn’t mind doing something in this educational sector.

I was recently offered a place on a Masters Program; I would be doing a Master of Education with a speciality in Cognitive Psychology and Educational Practice – which is just a fancy way of saying ‘how people learn’. The managers here were very approving of that.

The thing is…do I really want to commit to years of study (I’d have to do it very part time)? Also, do I actually want a career anymore? I’ve been down that road and chose to leave. I wanted to run my business and be around for my children. Years of working full time and studying part time is not conducive to family life, especially as Tom is working on a Masters himself, so I’ve been picking up a lot of extra ‘home duties’ to support him in his studies. Is this really how I want my future to be? Working all week and studying all weekend? Maybe I would be better to stay with this job (which isn’t too onerous) and spend a little bit of time gradually building my business until it’s at the stage that I can leave work and do only that.

I have to admit I enjoy studying and there is a part of me that would love to get my Masters. I’m just not sure how much I want that. How much of it is a genuine desire for a future in education and how much is it my ego wanting to show the world I can do it?

I don’t have the answers to any of these questions and that is my dilemma. Somehow along the way I have totally lost sight of what I really want and I don’t know how to find that again. But the other problem could be that there are too many possibilities.  Poor little princess.

I know it probably sounds pretty pathetic – there are people in the world with REAL problems and here I am fretting about what to do with my life. But this is the only life I’ve got and I want to make it count AND be happy if that’s possible. I want to be a good example to my children AND be around for them. I want to earn my own money AND be free.

Not much to ask really, is it? No. I didn’t think so either.

Chapter 2 - The girl who is

So I found myself on my first temping assignment. I was quite pleased because it was with an educational organisation, but one with a ‘spiritual’ focus. It is also the organisation that oversees the sector to which my daughters’ school belongs. I was to spend a month covering for someone who was on leave.

The minute I walked in I felt at home, the people were nice, the atmosphere was peaceful and while at first I found it unusual to be working in an environment where every meeting began with a prayer, I didn’t object. It didn’t take me long to find my way around and I’ve always been independent so I wasn’t constantly seeking help or reassurance. Basically I just got on with it and everyone seemed really pleased that I did. I got a lot of praise. I felt I was only doing what I was being paid to do at the level I was used to performing. Others felt I was excelling in some way. Go figure. Within a week my immediate manager was making comments about ‘keeping me on’ and telling anyone who’d listen what a ‘God-send’ I was and generally singing my praises high and low. It was nice, if not slightly disconcerting. I really wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary. She spoke to people in other areas and soon I was being asked to do small projects for other people. I continued to do this for a month and then my time was up. The assistant director invited me to a meeting and asked me to stay on for another month working in her area with some other senior people. I agreed. At that time she also strongly encouraged me to apply for a vacancy that was coming up. So I started in the new area and they arranged for me to do four days with them and a fifth day with another team in need of the kind of project support I do. It’s a lovely mix. I’ve had lots of interesting projects to work on and done some fascinating research and data analysis. I also applied for the job as suggested and pretty much just got on with my work.

To cut a long story short, my application was welcomed, I interviewed for the position (there were other applicants too) and yesterday they offered me the job and I accepted. That should be the happy ending shouldn’t it? And it is, in many ways. I actually love it here. It’s an organisation that is a good match for a) my career interests b) my personal values and c) my academic goals.

So why am I not jumping for joy?

I’ll try and explain tomorrow.

Yulish stuffs

Yuletide greetings from the Southern Hemisphere. Here I am writing from my blog called ‘Bridget’s Flame’ a Solstice goddess whose flame will pierce the darkness.  Here I am celebrating the Winter Solstice, with all its symbolism around rebirth (of the Sun), introspection and planning for the future. Here I am among all this and with absolutely no idea what the future holds for me.

I have spent yet another 24 hours immersed in the ‘internal debate’ I mentioned in my previous post. Thoughts, plans and ideas playing tag in my head until I thought it might explode and fall right off and into my cornflakes. I’m tired, tired of thinking, tired of being confused and tired of holding on so tightly and having to know NOW. This minute. IMMEDIATELY!

So, when faced with a dilemma of such momentous proportions, I decided to do what any sensible girl would do… I consulted my astrologer.  She said;

“The course of Venus brings you to an even deeper level of thought. Realisations of what motivates you, what really makes you happy in the core of your being, rise to the surface and bloom in the light of consciousness. A freedom and a responsibility in one. ‘For am I now seeking the favour of men, or of God? - St. Paul’”.

Right then. Lovely as it was (thanks St Paul) that didn’t really help, it just confirmed my confusion.

So I did the next logical thing and moved on to my Goddess Tarot iPhone app. For we all know that nothing answers life’s little questions like an iPhone app. It said ‘it is time for us to take our fantasies and transform them into reality’. At first I thought that meant I should make that call to Johnny Depp but it probably didn’t. Unfortunately.

Sigh.

I’ve already said that this week I’m going to blog it all out. A great spewing forth of all the revolting mixed up-ness that has been accumulating in my head for some time now.  It’s not life and death. It’s not even that important in the grand scheme of things. In fact at times it will make me sound like a whiny, ungrateful little pain in arse.  Sorry about that.

Because really, what have I got to complain about? With my health and my education and my family and a roof over my head and food to eat and shiny things to play with.

Yeah. Well unfortunately saying all that doesn’t make it go away, it doesn’t ease my confusion or pull me up by my bootstraps or help me make decisions about how I want my life to be.

So…tonight I’ll light a candle, meditate on the solstice, fly my freak flag from the tallest tower and then tomorrow… I will begin.

Solstice blessings to you all.

The world turns

Well here I am again, popping up when you least expect it. Life is no less busy, the temporary job I was doing was extended another four weeks, that four weeks is up next Friday but they don’t seem to have any plans to let me go. 

I’m a bit conflicted about it all, I like working there even though the work is not what I normally do.  I know it won’t challenge me for long (it doesn’t really challenge me now but it’s interesting enough to hold my attention).   It’s a nice working environment and probably has some potential for future work that is more in my field.   However I sometimes can’t help feeling I’m just ‘settling’ for something less than I am capable of and avoiding stepping out into the world and actually doing something I want to do.

One of the reasons I haven’t been blogging is that my life is just full of this incessant internal dialogue of whining and moaning and indecision and it seems grossly unfair to inflict others with it.  I bore myself, it certainly wouldn’t be entertaining for anyone else.

So I’ll continue my inner debate and occasionally pop by to let you know I’m still alive.

In the meantime if anyone has any idea how I can get my mojo back I’m all ears.

 

Countdown

I only have two days until I have to start work full time again (only for a month though).  All of a sudden, after having nearly 4 weeks off,  I’ve thought about a load of things I need to do.

So now I’m frantically trying to do them.

Blogging isn’t one of them.

I don’t know why I do this, maybe I overestimate the time I have available or underestimate what needs to be done. Or maybe I just hide and procrastinate.  After all I wouldn’t want to succeed would I?

One day I need to think about this. In the meantime I need to get on with some work so please excuse the brief post while I try to do something productive.

Another door opens…

Within a few hours of yesterday’s disappointment I received a call from the agency about a job that had just come in.  They felt I was ideally suited to the role and asked me to come in (again) for a chat about it.  I agreed and I’m going in this afternoon.

The only thing is this position is a full time, permanent one.  It’s a good job, again writing curriculum and coordinating learning and development within an organisation.  I should be happy and I am…sort of.  I’m just not sure I want something quite so…committed.   I’d really like something similar to that, interesting company, challenging work, utilising my skills, experience and my degree, but part time, maybe 2 or 3 days a week.  I’m sure a job like that, with my name on it, exists.  Just not sure where. 

Working full time is a bit of a nightmare the way it impacts on family life, leave early, home late, always rushing.  Also not being able to get to things at school and always being busy and tired. It’s no fun.  It also leaves me no time to work on the business (which is my ultimate goal).

So, I don’t know what will happen today – it may not be suitable once we talk about it so I’ll be back to square one.  I still feel like I’m in some strange, unsettled place with the future uncertain.  I’m not enjoying this at all. Which seems a bit ungrateful, I know I’m lucky to be in a position where I can be offered good, well paid jobs, but is it really too much to ask to have something a bit more suited to family life (not to mention my sanity)?

How can it be so?

Apparently, according the dating system on blogger, I wrote that last post on 20th March.  I don’t believe this. It can’t possibly have been that long. Can it?

Where do the days go? It’s starting to freak me out a little.  A minute ago it was Christmas and now Easter has come and gone.  Did time speed up?  Can someone please explain this terrifying phenomenon to me? And please don’t say ‘it’s what happens when you get older’ because that will depress me even more.

I feel like my life is speeding past me like a runaway train.

And just so you know…I don’t like it.  Not one bit.

 

Where’s my parachute?

I've had trouble blogging for quite some time now (some of you may have noticed).  It’s not laziness or even busy-ness  that stops me (although I am busy) , it’s much more about the turmoil in my head.

I sit down and open up Live Writer then go blank.  I have no idea how to get my thoughts out of my head and onto the blog.  Sometimes I think ‘just write about anything’ but there is so much other ‘stuff’ it’s difficult to do even that.

It’s nothing terribly dramatic or cause for concern, just a kind of general confusion and angst.   You may recall that I have been working full time since last August.  I have blogged about it and made it clear that I don’t like the job.  I still don’t like it, in fact in December I tried 3 times to resign.  They talked me into staying – the general manager asked me to stay at least until February and see how I felt then  as a ‘personal favour’ to him.  It’s hard to say no to that without seeming unreasonable. February came and I felt the same way so I resigned again.  This time they believed I meant it and ‘reluctantly’ accepted my resignation.  Apparently they were very ‘disappointed’.  I don’t really care.  I finish there on 26 March. 

Now I feel a bit lighter but with something new to worry about.  How will I earn money?  What I really want to do is get my business going again and work from home as I used to.   Of course there is a lot of fear and trepidation and ‘what ifs’ around that.  Taking the leap, without any kind of real solid basis for taking the leap and without a working parachute (or any parachute at all if I’m honest).   In other words A RISK!!! Scary, scary stuff. 

Let’s hope I can fly.

The post I promised Dave I’d do last week…

….then didn’t do so then promised I’d do at the weekend and am now doing. Hark at that appalling grammar – go on folks have a field day.

The End.

Just kidding.

Sigh. I’m really struggling to get into blogging again.  I want to, I really do but it’s been so long since I’ve done it regularly that I’m out of the habit (I’m talking about blogging people…blogging!).  I plan to, I open up Live Writer then I stare at the empty page for a while and suddenly remember that I have something very important to do.  I’m like this…

 

It’s just not in the forefront of my mind any more.  However I want it to be.  I want to get back to the days when I’d regularly think to myself ‘I must blog this’ and I’d take my camera everywhere to be sure to capture any blog fodder digitally.  So, I’m going to try to remedy this by setting a goal for two posts a week (at least) to begin with.  If that goes well then I’ll set a new goal. 

Be warned the results may be even worse than they used to be.  Bear with me please. 

Today’s weather report

It’s hot, I’m tired and I need chocolate.

Anyone got a problem with that?

The bureau told us it was going to be 40 tomorrow and 34 on Saturday. Now they say it’s going to be 43 tomorrow (only getting down to 32 overnight – sob) and 41 on Saturday. They are liars. Later I’m going to down to the bureau to punch someone on the nose.

Apparently the cool change will come and it’s going to be 25 on Sunday. That would be nice….but I’ll believe it when I see it.

In the meantime let be known that I am heartily sick of this stifling ‘record-breaking’ heat. I am a Scottish person…we’re not made for this kind of weather.

Woe is me....

...the TV is broken! Normally I wouldn't bother...if it's not Midsomer season or time for a new series of Dr Who I could care less (no, really) however there is a Dr Who special episode on tomorrow and we have no TV. I'm desolate.

I don't give a toss about Big Brother, Idol or Oprah...I never watch soaps and I only occasionally partake of CSI (although I quite like it...and some of those other American acronyms NCIS, Law & Order SVU - not SUV as I once said - a police show about Range Rovers). No, TV is not vital to my life. Movies are, I like a good film, but at least I can watch them on the laptop if need be.

But Dr Who....!!! It's more than a girl can bear.

Gratuitous picture of the current doctor...

...and a dalek.

Post blogday blues

For some reason today I'm feeling a little flat (in the emotional sense). It isn't full blown depression just a general feeling of discontent, overwhelm, pointlessness and frustration (oh, is that all?). I'm tired, that doesn't help. I'm trying to remain excited about the 'new year', maintaining enthusiasm for my plans and goals but some days it feels as though nothing works.

What I am coming to understand is that whenever I feel this way it's usually about work. It's never about my family, that's all good, it's not about my health, it's occasionally about homesickness, sometimes it's frustration about our lack of progress with the renovation. But the real moping, whining, complaining stuff is all about work.

Obviously I'm a slow learner because it's taken me this long to realise that it's a major source of unhappiness for me. Seems I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.

Now I just have to decide what to do about it.

Unplanned renovations

Remember I mentioned that I was planning to put up the Christmas tree on Sunday? Hannah had a birthday party to go to that day and I said we'd put up the tree when she came back. In the afternoon, while she was gone, I started to organise the furniture to accommodate the tree. I happened to mention to Tom that we really should have moved the piano as we've been planning to do for a few weeks. 'Well, let's do it now!' he said. 'Ok!' I enthusiastically cried.

Later, after we'd removed two doors and a built in cupboard to get the piano to it's new location, I nearly had a little cry.

Everything from that cupboard was piled on our bed. The office was in turmoil, there were tools over all over the floor, the tree wasn't even close to being put up and the children were whining about that and the fact they hadn't been given dinner yet.

'Shut up' I said. And they did.

Since then things have been tidied up, the tree is decorated and looking lovely, the children have recovered from the slight malnutrition they suffered on Sunday and I'm getting better with some counselling.

And I'm really glad that cupboard has gone, it was an eyesore.

.

Is it bedtime yet?

Well I haven't stopped all day and I'm exhausted. This morning they were fed, dressed and entertained for hours, we made paper bag puppets and had a competition for the best collage monster then I made a tuna pasta sauce and gave them it with pasta dinosaurs for lunch, they ate that and some fruit for dessert while I cleaned up the mess from all the craft.

Then Tom took over for an hour while I went and did the shopping and as I came back he left (it was planned, he wasn't running away at least I don't think he's running away - he assured me we'd planned this). I bathed the youngest (Lachlan) and cleaned up the toilet (don't ask), unpacked the shopping, made popcorn (real popcorn not microwave) and prepared apple juice drinks for all (no, I didn't squeeze the apples) and put on a movie for them (cheating I know). Then I set the chicken drumsticks to marinade, cut and seasoned potatoes to make wedges, put a load of washing on and unloaded the dishwasher and reloaded it with yet more dirty dishes.

I made myself a cup of tea and a piece of toast (it's 5pm and I haven't had lunch) and came through here, heaved a sigh and started to write this post and......Hannah came in and said 'Mummy, the movie is finished'. I looked at her for a moment, looked at my tea and toast, looked at my half written blog post and said 'want to watch another one?'. So off she went and put another movie on (don't judge me, I don't care). I turned back to the computer and heard a little voice saying 'oh no, not again'. Let's just say the youngest is back in the bath and I'm about to go and clean the toilet again. His aim really isn't very good at all today.

We do this child swap regularly (I've mentioned it before) and usually it's no trouble at all, the kids all get on well and pretty much entertain each other. They are, on the whole, polite, well mannered, undemanding children, however for some reason this time is testing me. Admittedly I'm doing most of it alone because Tom had other obligations this weekend (so he says) but even that doesn't usually worry me - I may not be the most domesticated woman on the planet but I'm actually quite capable (despite the way it may appear if you read this blog). Just not this weekend.

Anyway, tomorrow we are having a birthday afternoon tea when the boys' parents come to pick them up, Oliver, the oldest boy will be 7 on Monday and my birthday is on Tuesday so it's party sausage rolls and fairy bread (ick!) all round.

That's assuming I last the night.

And Dave if you point out any typos or spelling/grammatical errors today I'm going to jump in that teleport and come right over there and punch you on the nose. Or leave the children with you.

What happened next

When I titled yesterday's post 'Unexpected' I hadn't yet realised the full significance of this turn of events. Last night was fairly smooth, Tom was here and when Aislin needed help to get somewhere (not having quite mastered the crutches yet) he was able to pick her up and carry her wherever she needed to be. I can do it if I have to, but he's taller and stronger than me and it's effortless to him. To me...well...she's heavy and all arms and legs - difficult to wrangle.

This morning she woke up at 6am and needed to go to the toilet. I could hear her struggling with the crutches so I jumped up and went through and as her need was urgent I carried her there. She was wide awake by then and I asked if she wanted a drink and she did so we just got up even though we could have safely had another hour in bed (sigh). Then there was a flurry of the usual morning activity, breakfast, getting dressed, making sure Hannah had all her swimming gear and so on. All the time giving Aislin extra help because everything is more of a challenge for her right now, carrying her down the steps from the front door, lifting her into the car etc. We took Hannah to school and Aislin waited in the car reading a book while I dashed in to tell the teacher what was going on. We came home and I lifted her out of the car and back up the steps. It was only 9.05 and I was buggered.

She wanted me to play a game with her, I looked at the pile of work I had to do and settled down resignedly to play several games of Junior Scrabble. Then we did two (big) jigsaws. It went on like that all day with supervising her practicing on her crutches as an added extra.

This afternoon we went to pick up Hannah, I had a pile of library books to return and I planned to drop them off on the way to school, we got to the library I looked at the books, looked at Aislin and discovered the flaw in my plan. I couldn't carry the books and help her. So I gathered up the books, and made a dash for the return chute leaving Aislin in the car in a public car park. Something I hate doing. It was only a couple of minutes and I could see the car (which I'd locked) the whole time but it felt bad.

After we picked up Hannah I remembered I needed to go to the supermarket - we were nearly out of some essentials that couldn't wait. Again I looked at Aislin and wondered how I'd get round the supermarket with her...she's not ready for a marathon effort like that on crutches yet. In the end (you should thank me that you're not getting the full version here....stuff happened) I squeezed her into the tiny toddler trolley seat - not easy with a gangly 5 year old with a gigantic left foot. After we'd done the shopping (all the while listening to 'Mummy, this seat is hurting me...) we got back to the car, unpacked the shopping then tried to prise Aislin back out of the trolley....there was a while there that I thought we were going to just have to bring the whole thing home with Aislin still in it and wait until Tom got home so he could take it apart and set her free using his angle grinder. Fortunately it didn't come to that.

This is hard, but I'm not complaining because I know it is NOTHING compared to what some carers are doing 24 hours a day, every day of their lives, for people much bigger and heavier and more seriously disabled than Aislin is right now. I'm just saying that it is much more challenging than I realised it was going to be....not the carrying so much as the logistics of doing anything with someone who isn't fully operational.

This week is going to be fun...I have an appointment with the hairdresser, a doctor's appointment (where I also have to see the nurse for an injection) and Aislin's specialist appointment on Thursday.....how am I going to negotiate these? Oh don't worry...you're sure to hear all about it.

Unexpected

So last night when I posted the children had gone to bed and I was going to have a glass of wine and perhaps watch a movie. What I hadn't mentioned was that earlier that evening there had been an incident in which Aislin, feeling exuberant, had leapt from an armchair onto the floor. Now there were three problems with this 1) leaping from the furniture is strongly discouraged in this house (but she's 5 years old and they do love to leap) 2) this particular armchair temporarily held all the coats and jackets and various odds and ends from the pageant adventure that I had just unpacked from the car and 3) Aislin had left a piece of cellophane on the floor after unwrapping something a moment before. As she leapt her foot caught on a jacket and she fell awkwardly, this was exacerbated by the piece of cellophane on the wooden floor upon which she then slipped. Then the screaming began, Hannah ran out of the front door at this point - she hates it when anyone hurts themself and often runs off in distress.....I hope she doesn't consider a career in nursing.

Anyway, afer much calming down of the hysterical Aislin (while Tom fetched Hannah back) I iced and elevated the foot and administered some Childrens' Panadol. She was in some pain and there was a little swelling and the start of a bruise, she couldn't walk on it very well but she said it was ok and a some time later went off to bed quite happy.

Then I did my blog post, I didn't mention the incident because frankly if I blogged every little accident my children had there would be hardly a day without an injury report, there's always someone bumping their head or falling over or scratching themselves on a bush. I'm told it's normal. Also, I was very distracted by that clown.

So anyway.....they were in bed, I'd dutifully done my blog post so I settled down with a movie and my wine ready for a relaxing hour or so with my feet up. About an hour later Aislin came hopping through in tears, the pain in her foot had woken her up, I looked at the foot, it looked the same, I checked the time, it had been 4 hours since the Panadol so I gave her another dose and she had a drink and fell asleep on my lap. I carried her to bed and she slept soundly for the rest of the night.

This morning she was bright and happy but couldn't put any weight on the foot. It was still swollen and the bruising was more obvious. You can see where this is going can't you? So she and Tom went off and spent some considerable time here....

....and came home with this......

She's broken her foot. This is the temporary cast and we see the specialist on Thursday and he will decide what sort of cast she needs for the rest of her recovery.

She was supposed to be having swimming lessons at school every day this week. Yesterday we went and bought a new swimsuit and goggles. She's devastated. She also thinks the cast is ugly and she refused to be wheeled around in a wheel chair at the hospital.

She has crutches and she doesn't mind those...as long as she's not expected to actually use them. I can just tell this is going to be fun.

I had the presence of mind to do a quick pedicure for her before she left for the hospital, a girl needs some comfort, especially if a bunch of strangers are going to be looking at your feet. The nurses loved her toenails and so does she.

By the way, don't think you're getting out of reading the pageant post....it has only been postponed temporarily.

Restless

I'm feeling edgy today, restless and cross for no reason. Well probably not no reason, life is slightly stressful just now and to top it all I'm homesick again and all of that is manifesting as a kind of restless crankiness. It's a beautiful thing to behold, just ask Tom.

I don't know why I can't just settle here and accept it as my home. I want to, I don't enjoy feeling this way, I really want to let go of the desire to return to the UK and get on living my life here, but I just can't seem to. No matter how hard I try. It still feels temporary, like it's the place I'm living until I can get back to the place I LIVE.

In other news the girls brought home the annual note about school swimming. Every year they spend a week having lessons with the school. The note reminded us that we have to pay $50 for each child. So that's $100 we're up for a month before Christmas. Fabulous. I'm sick of giving that school money (told you I was cranky).

Tom sent me an email from work telling me about a terrible training session he'd attended. He got a feisty email in return for his trouble. I have spent a good deal of time as a college lecturer and I know what it's like to stand in front of groups of students of varying opinion about a) the subject matter b) whether they actually need to be there (because they know it all already) and c) your abilities. It sucks. It's a hard thing to do at the best times and on the occasions that you get some smarty pants, know-it-all git sitting there judging you it's enough to make you pull out the pepper spray (no, I never actually had any pepper spray..... unfortunately). A different story altogether when it's their turn to stand in front of the group and present their major project....with me grading them. Karma I think you'd call it.

Ok, I think I'd better stop now, I'm frothing at the mouth. Be careful with the comments won't you?