Failed Parenting 101

Last weekend Hannah, who is 6, was playing with a toy coat hanger, basically a piece of moulded plastic with a hook on it. Because as we all know toys need something to hang their clothes on. Anyway, at some point she decided that the best place for this was in her mouth, about the same time her father decided to sit back and bumped her so that the piece of plastic went to the back of her mouth and scratched her throat. As soon as the initial drama was over we ok, I forgot all about it.

Fast forward to last night. Hannah tells me that her teacher sent her to get a glass of water because her throat was so sore. Yes, 5 days later it still hurts and she hadn't complained (well only once or twice).

So off to the doctor we go today. Not our usual doctor I might add, another one in the same practice who, amazingly, had a several appointments available on the Thursday before the Easter long weekend when every other doctor is screaming for mercy from the endless stream of patients with sudden urgent ailments. It soon became obvious why she had so many available appointments, but I digress.

So the quack* doctor examines Hannah's throat with her tiny wee maglite. She then turns to me giving me a look that I imagine regularly turns men to stone, fortunately I was somehow immune - my ovaries are my protection perhaps, and says 'does she often have tonsilitis?'. Puzzled I say 'no' to which she replies, rather accusingly, 'well, she has now and her glands are right up, didn't you feel them?' Now I don't know about other parents, but me, well I rarely check my childrens' glands. With my kids I cuddle them a lot, yell at them occasionally, read to them, cook for them, wash their clothes, generally care for them but check their glands - nope, never done it. I am then subjected to a lengthy discourse on viral tonsilitis. As an afterthought she adds 'oh and she has an ulcer on that scratch in her throat'.

So have I failed in some way? Are we supposed to regularly check for swollen glands in children that otherwise seem perfectly healthy? Is it a twice daily requirement, like toothbrushing?

Was my mother supposed to do mine and should I have been doing my own these past 30 odd years?

Anyway, the outcome of all this is Hannah has to gargle soluble Disprin and take Panadol for any temperatures or pain she experiences. Hannah is pretty excited she LOVES to gargle.

*Did you notice I've learned to strike through in HTML? Such a proud day.

Plague Mary

Well I'm ill. Very, very ill. I couldn't go to work today, in fact I could barely get out of bed. It seems to be some sort of flu-like virus. A bit like a head cold on steroids. My head aches, my nose has stopped functioning in a nose-like way, it seems to be blocked with cement. I feel sick, I have been sick, but most of the time I just feel nauseous. My ears are agony, it feels as though someone is sticking hot pokers into them at varied intervals to surprise me. Believe me...it surprises me. My skin hurts, all of it. I think even my hair hurts.

The 'friend' (who I suspect infected me with her vile bacteria) said it does indeed sound like what she had. And then she said (quite cheerfully I thought) 'oh, you'll be sick for a week...forget about Easter'. FORGET ABOUT EASTER??? But it's EASTER ...... the chocolate, the hot cross buns, the chocolate chip hot cross buns and oh yeah church...whatever....but the CHOCOLATE!!!!! Did I mention the chocolate?

Consequently in my consumptive (and distressed) state I feel unable to spend hours at the computer (that's how I know I'm really sick) so this your lot for today.

Office progress

Over the weekend I took steps to resolve my messy desk issue. We have a room that is to be used as an office, however we haven't yet made it into an office as we are still trying to get around to painting it. So as a 'temporary' measure I have my desk and laptop in the lounge room - that is 'temporarily' for the last 18 months!!! Last Friday after looking at the piles of paper on my desk, on the floor and on top of the bookcase, and then blogging about it, I decided that we should just make the office an office and worry about the painting at a later stage when we have more time. So on Saturday we moved into the office. It's not quite finished there is still stuff to put away but my books are now on a bookcase (oh joy!!) my files are, well......filed, my papers are pretty much sorted and my desk is clear. Guess what? I can find stuff. If I want something I can reach out and get it...straight away! My coffee cup, this morning, is sitting in a sea of empty space. It has at least a foot square all to itself.

One thing I'm learning this year is acceptance. I so want to move forward with the painting and renovating but we have committed to my finishing Uni as well as working part time and continuing with workshops and coaching and I have just had to accept that at this stage the removations will have to wait. In about 7 months (!) time I will be finished Uni and then we are home free!! So what if it means I have to take everything back out of the office to paint it? So what if it means a little bit longer with bare floors and hideous wallpaper in the laundry and toilet. Let's face it, it's not going anywhere! I'm sure I'll still have days that it all frustrates me but I know that 7 months will pass in no time and then look out....I'm going nuts with the paint brush!

The joy of lethargy

I've just noticed that my entire blog is no longer on one page. Now that has to be cause for celebration.....doesn't it? I keep telling myself I'm getting better and I am, however I seem to still have an average of one blog a week (and I do mean 'average' it's more like 3 weeks off and one week with a spurt of activity). So my challenge for April is to at least double it. Ha! We'll see.

I'm at a bit of a loss today. I feel like I should do some uni work (2 assignments due next week) but I also feel like a break from that. Is that so wrong? Hell no. However now I can't decide what I will do. I'm considering trying to find the surface of my desk again. I know it's there somewhere because all that paper can't be levitating in mid air...can it? I sat down today to blog and just squeezed and pushed until there was a space to put my coffee cup. I'm also learning to navigate using keys rather than the mouse, mainly because there is no room to move the mouse around on the desk.

Yes, perhaps I need to tidy my desk space.

Or I could fold laundry. There are two baskets worth there. But why? If I put them away the other people that live in this house will just take them out, wear them and put them back in the dirty wash and then I'll have the whole damn thing to do again. Nope.

I could shop...the cupboard is bare. However if I shop then I'll have to cook. Not keen on that either.

We've got bread. Toast is good.

I really don't feel much like getting involved in any domestic activity. Maybe I'll surf the net (shoes and handbags today I think), send emails to my sisters and drink gallons of tea. Yep, that sounds good.

Decision made.

What would Jesus do....

My 6 year old daughter goes to a Catholic school. This means that, in her opinion, she is our resident expert on all things religious. Today I overheard this conversation between her and her 4 year old sister in the back seat of the car.

Miss 4 - I love Jesus

Miss 6 - Why?

Miss 4 - Because he can turn into anything he wants

Miss 6 - That's not Jesus, that's God. And he doesn't 'turn into things'

Miss 4 - You said he did

Miss 6 - No, I said he is anything you want him to be

Miss 4 - silence...... then.... Good. Because I want him to be a KANGAROOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

Such simple desires.

Four years on....

Last week my 'baby' turned 4. She's already started kindy, just one morning a week for her first term then 2 whole days a week from next term. She's growing up, becoming more independent every day. Thankfully she's not so independent that she doesn't want me to lie and cuddle her before she goes to sleep though. And she's not so independent that she doesn't want to spend the first 15 minutes of every day snuggled on my lap while she has her morning drink. And not so independent that she can get through the day without at least once feeling my 'cold'. That is the cool bare skin at the back of my upper arm. She strokes it. She can be quite demanding that I sit in exactly the right position and wear exactly the right attire so that she can reach my 'cold'.

She was born the week the war started in Iraq. We spent the first week of her life together in hospital, just the two of us getting to know each other. It was a wild and stormy week and every morning she would wake before sunrise. I'd get a cup of tea, open the curtains, climb back into bed and give her her first feed of the day while watching the sun come up and the storms and rain over the hills. Sometimes I would watch the morning news after our little feeding ritual. I was amazed that such drama and violence could be happening outside our peaceful little cocoon. Can you believe it's still happening? Fortunately our cocoon still exists, not always as peaceful as those first days but pretty good most of the time. Happy Birthday baby girl!!!

This one's for you M

Yes, 2 blogs in one day, I could have put this at the end of my previous blog but I felt it deserved it's own space.

Today is my sister's birthday, well actually the 8th is her birthday and it's the 9th here, but she lives in America and it's still yesterday there so she can actually read this on her birthday. Confused?

So M, I have a few things to tell you on your 'special day'.

I remember when you arrived into my life, I was 6 and really not expecting to come home from school and find a baby in a basinette in the lounge room. I can't remember if Mum and Dad said you were coming, if they did I must have blocked it out because I remember being surprised. I'd been the only one for a long time and you were quite an interruption to that. I soon realised you were actually ok, and in fact got fairly attached to you. Of course from time to time you were the typical little sister, a right pain in the arse but I still liked you. I remember bullying you a bit - sorry about that. I remember how cute you were, all blonde and smiley and quiet. I remember Mum telling me how good you were and how if you were being naughty she just had to use a firm voice and you'd stop (unlike me who only responded to a damn good thrashing seemingly). I remember watching you at the dinner table, when you were 2 or 3, playing with the knives and forks, pretending they were people, lost in your own little world. Can you imagine how I felt the first time I saw Aislin do the same thing? Most of all I just remember you always being there, my sister and my family. At the important times you (and Fi) are the people I turn to, when Dad died and then when Mum died you were the only two that knew exactly how I felt because you felt it too. No-one else could possibly know because no-one else had that shared history. Now you are married and live so far away, I miss you every day. I know you've got a great husband and family but I'm a bit cross with him for taking you away (kidding Brian).

So birthday girl here are just 10 of the million and one things I love about you.

1. You love Brian so much you left everything to be with him.
2. You are hilariously funny.
3. We like the same stuff - emails all day about handbags, music, movies, food or just whinging.
4. You know when to tell me to quit whining and I'm ok with that - but I wouldn't take it from anyone else (except Fi).
5. You use words like malcontent ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!!
6. You can knit and don't get impatient with me when I can't remember what you taught me (or if you do get impatient - which knowing you I'm sure you do - you hide it well).
7. You come all the way across the world to see us, often.
8. Sometimes you pretend to be less emotional than you are.
9. You know me better than anyone else but still like me. I can tell you the most shameful thing that I'm thinking and you'll say you think it too.
10. You are really, really smart.

Happy Birthday Moy - I love you!!!!!!