People often jest and say "My, but I'm getting old!". Is that something that you say to yourself just to make certain that your mind and body keeps up with the programme? I don't know but lately I've heard it quite a bit. Scary, if everybody around me claims to be getting old, does this apply to me too or am I just hanging around with a bunch of old farts and need to find myself a friskier crowd of acquaintances?
I have become quite enthused about scrapping again and decided to dig into the "box of the past" dah dah dah dum (drum roll please) and I found a collection of negatives (you know those things we used to have to take to the photo shop to have developed, oh, never mind) hidden in an envelope. Off I scurry to the photo shop (no not adobe photoshop, the actual shop shop) to discover pics from the past and reminisce a little of days gone by.
I hand in my negatives and select a few pictures that I would like have developed. Amongst the lot of negatives that I found was an old strip of negatives, which for the life of me I cannot recall the name of, but they were from those first little thin cameras with the even thinner strip of film. I hand them to the shop assistant, young and frisky little cow and she turns to me without hesitation and says "Oh my gosh but these are soooo old!" Excuse me? "We can't develop these here, they need to go to a special lab." Yes, thank you, I know I'm special but surely my pictures can be developed without any special attention or such drastic action? No, it turns out, they need a special lab. I leave a little disappointed and rather insulted, I mean, she could have at least tried to contain herself and her outburst, hmph.
It looks quite possibly, sniff, sniff, that it is my frisky acquaintances that should be looking for a younger crowd to "hang with" because clearly this old hag is fast approaching her sell by date. Now if you'll excuse me I am going to purchase myself a box of Loreal to wash that grey right out of my hair........ because I'm worth it!
Showing posts with label about me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label about me. Show all posts
Wednesday, 27 August 2008
Monday, 11 August 2008
Forgotten promises
It is really weird how life works. Some people call it fate, some call it karma, others like myself, believe that God has us all in the palm of his hand and sends us messages and interventions to help us through life or to teach us lessons in life.
Hubby and I spent the weekend discussing our marriage and whether or not there was anything left to save. Neither of us is entirely happy with life, each other or much of anything right now and we have reached "that" point in our marriage. Do we go forward together or do we call it a day? To make a long story short, we have decided to give it one last try.
Where does God come in you're thinking? Well, I have been invited to a series of scrapbooking evenings, dedicated solely to making a wedding album. I didn't really think too much of it until I spent this afternoon sifting through all my wedding pictures and keepsakes that I had packed away. The things I found and remembered really pulled at my heartstrings; our wedding vows, the order of service in which I had dedicated a poem to Mark, telling him why I wanted to be his bride and finally the letter I had written to him and left on his pillow the night before our wedding day, dedicating my undying love and devotion to him, making promises I fully intended to keep, yet realise I have fallen horribly short. Reading these things and remembering why I married him, why I love him and reminding myself of promises and commitments I made and haven't lived up to. That is where God comes in. Thank you Lord, for choosing a critical time like this, where everything could be falling apart and making me realise why and how I should be working harder at keeping it all together.
Hubby and I spent the weekend discussing our marriage and whether or not there was anything left to save. Neither of us is entirely happy with life, each other or much of anything right now and we have reached "that" point in our marriage. Do we go forward together or do we call it a day? To make a long story short, we have decided to give it one last try.
Where does God come in you're thinking? Well, I have been invited to a series of scrapbooking evenings, dedicated solely to making a wedding album. I didn't really think too much of it until I spent this afternoon sifting through all my wedding pictures and keepsakes that I had packed away. The things I found and remembered really pulled at my heartstrings; our wedding vows, the order of service in which I had dedicated a poem to Mark, telling him why I wanted to be his bride and finally the letter I had written to him and left on his pillow the night before our wedding day, dedicating my undying love and devotion to him, making promises I fully intended to keep, yet realise I have fallen horribly short. Reading these things and remembering why I married him, why I love him and reminding myself of promises and commitments I made and haven't lived up to. That is where God comes in. Thank you Lord, for choosing a critical time like this, where everything could be falling apart and making me realise why and how I should be working harder at keeping it all together.
Tuesday, 05 August 2008
Evil elves in my cupboard
It has come to my attention that there is either an evil group of tiny elves or tiny group of evil elves living in my cupboard. I haven't actually caught them physically so I can't tell you whether they are evil or tiny or both, but I know that they are there. I am not crazy, yes, I know you find that difficult to believe and from time to time I might appear a little off balance but crazy, no, not yet anyway.
To prove my point let me give you an example; yesterday morning AND this morning I dig in my cupboard for something a little more summery to wear as the dawn of Spring and Summer slowly arises and to my horror of horrors I discover that the clothes are smaller than they were last year! Can you believe it. These little buggers have basically spent most of the winter altering my summer clothes and have made almost every single one of them smaller.
Is that a snicker I hear? Please people this is no joke.
Obviously I cannot make them the same size that they were last summer and a new wardrobe is completely out of the question, so I guess I am going just have to try and lose a few pounds and fit into my newly altered attire. O.K, so getting rid of a few kilo's isn't necessarily a bad thing but jeez you evil little elves, you could have warned me.
To prove my point let me give you an example; yesterday morning AND this morning I dig in my cupboard for something a little more summery to wear as the dawn of Spring and Summer slowly arises and to my horror of horrors I discover that the clothes are smaller than they were last year! Can you believe it. These little buggers have basically spent most of the winter altering my summer clothes and have made almost every single one of them smaller.
Is that a snicker I hear? Please people this is no joke.
Obviously I cannot make them the same size that they were last summer and a new wardrobe is completely out of the question, so I guess I am going just have to try and lose a few pounds and fit into my newly altered attire. O.K, so getting rid of a few kilo's isn't necessarily a bad thing but jeez you evil little elves, you could have warned me.
Tuesday, 01 July 2008
Above all else
I've sat here a few times in the last week trying to find words to express the way I've been feeling lately and, well, it's been a little too hard. The truth is, the horrible truth, is that my marriage is in serious trouble. I find it really hard to accept that after almost 20 years together it has come to this. One would think that if you have made it this far as a couple then it should be smooth sailing from here on, after all, what more could you go through that hasn't already been tried and tested and boy have we been tried and tested. We always came out on top, but some how, this time it isn't as easy.
I am not going to blame him or accuse him, he has his faults but I am not going to fool anyone by proclaiming to be the perfect wife either, if anything, after reading my posts, you have come to realise that most of me is just downright balmy, intense, anal and at times probably rather annoying. Perhaps those parts of me have become to much for him. Perhaps unconditional love develops conditions and the person you believed to have loved all this time becomes nothing more than an irritation, a burden, who knows.
There are things in my life which I choose not to discuss, perhaps an entry on post secrets would reveal my sadness and pain and rid of it in a web of peoples lies, deceits and deep dark secrets, where it can anonymously slip out of my life and into oblivion. I have no friends to share my pain, this blog is my outlet, my diary, my best friend albeit a quiet, unresponsive, gossip that tells everyone everything, just like people do anyway.
I'm not asking for sympathy, God knows I've contributed to the problems too, I only hope and pray that we can get through this and manage at least convince him that we are worth fighting for.
I am not going to blame him or accuse him, he has his faults but I am not going to fool anyone by proclaiming to be the perfect wife either, if anything, after reading my posts, you have come to realise that most of me is just downright balmy, intense, anal and at times probably rather annoying. Perhaps those parts of me have become to much for him. Perhaps unconditional love develops conditions and the person you believed to have loved all this time becomes nothing more than an irritation, a burden, who knows.
There are things in my life which I choose not to discuss, perhaps an entry on post secrets would reveal my sadness and pain and rid of it in a web of peoples lies, deceits and deep dark secrets, where it can anonymously slip out of my life and into oblivion. I have no friends to share my pain, this blog is my outlet, my diary, my best friend albeit a quiet, unresponsive, gossip that tells everyone everything, just like people do anyway.
I'm not asking for sympathy, God knows I've contributed to the problems too, I only hope and pray that we can get through this and manage at least convince him that we are worth fighting for.
Monday, 09 June 2008
Stuff about me.
1. I am the eldest child and only girl.
2. I married my High School Sweetheart, Mark. We have been together for almost 20 years and married for 8 of them.
3. We have three children, a precious yet complicated trio of different personalities.
4. I have had three miscarriages.
5. My ambitions as a child was to either be a teacher or a spy. I am neither.
6. As a child, Princess Diana was my best friend, I adored her, we "chatted" all the time, funny though, I did all the talking!
7. I was a rebellious teenager.
8. I have never taken drugs. Oops, there was that ONE puff of a joint when I was 23, that's all.
9. I spent almost a year in boarding school when I was in Gr. 6. I hated it.
10. I LOVE puddings, forget cake, give me pudding, warm, tummy warming pudding with cream.
11. My hubby and I were born at the same hospital, almost exactly one year apart.
12. I enjoy taking photographs. I am still mastering the art.
13. I enjoy crafts.
14. I put on 30kg's when pregnant with my first child. When he was born I lost 12kg's. I still haven't lost the other 18kg's.
15. I developed pre-eclampsia during my first pregnancy and had to have an emergency C-Section delivery when I was 35 weeks pregnant.
16. My brother, Grant, was killed in a car crash on Woman's Day 1999, two months after he celebrated his 21st birthday.
17. I had my gall bladder removed when I was 19.
18. I love lindt chocolate.
19. I failed matric. I repeated the year and passed the second time.
20. My husband and I shared the most romantic honeymoon in Mauritius.
21. My father was imprisoned for his role in the 1981 Seychelles coup attempt.
22. Losing my family is my greatest fear.
23. I love surprises, giving them and getting them.
24. Manipulative people infuriate me.
25. I know I was born to be rich. and thin.
26. I don't do windows. I hate housework.
27. Summer is my favourite season. Winter provides my favourite foods.
28. In an attempt to be thin and at the same time not deprive myself of food, I tried bingeing and purging.
29. Re. #28. I realised I hate vomiting.
30. My best day ever was my wedding day.
2. I married my High School Sweetheart, Mark. We have been together for almost 20 years and married for 8 of them.
3. We have three children, a precious yet complicated trio of different personalities.
4. I have had three miscarriages.
5. My ambitions as a child was to either be a teacher or a spy. I am neither.
6. As a child, Princess Diana was my best friend, I adored her, we "chatted" all the time, funny though, I did all the talking!
7. I was a rebellious teenager.
8. I have never taken drugs. Oops, there was that ONE puff of a joint when I was 23, that's all.
9. I spent almost a year in boarding school when I was in Gr. 6. I hated it.
10. I LOVE puddings, forget cake, give me pudding, warm, tummy warming pudding with cream.
11. My hubby and I were born at the same hospital, almost exactly one year apart.
12. I enjoy taking photographs. I am still mastering the art.
13. I enjoy crafts.
14. I put on 30kg's when pregnant with my first child. When he was born I lost 12kg's. I still haven't lost the other 18kg's.
15. I developed pre-eclampsia during my first pregnancy and had to have an emergency C-Section delivery when I was 35 weeks pregnant.
16. My brother, Grant, was killed in a car crash on Woman's Day 1999, two months after he celebrated his 21st birthday.
17. I had my gall bladder removed when I was 19.
18. I love lindt chocolate.
19. I failed matric. I repeated the year and passed the second time.
20. My husband and I shared the most romantic honeymoon in Mauritius.
21. My father was imprisoned for his role in the 1981 Seychelles coup attempt.
22. Losing my family is my greatest fear.
23. I love surprises, giving them and getting them.
24. Manipulative people infuriate me.
25. I know I was born to be rich. and thin.
26. I don't do windows. I hate housework.
27. Summer is my favourite season. Winter provides my favourite foods.
28. In an attempt to be thin and at the same time not deprive myself of food, I tried bingeing and purging.
29. Re. #28. I realised I hate vomiting.
30. My best day ever was my wedding day.
Thursday, 17 April 2008
The boycott
It is actually quite amazing how our bodies have a way of communicating with us; many of us choose not to pay attention, but in their own ways, they tell us stuff. Today my body said ENOUGH! I have chosen not to pay much attention to it's desperate pleas for what ever it is desperately pleading for. All I know is, that at the end the day, it boycotted me.
After having spent a better part of the week coordinating my kids' social, sporting and events calendar, getting up to date with admin that was horribly neglected during the holidays as well as my home, that I certain was also about to boycott me, my body told me in no uncertain terms today that it had well and truly had enough.
A dear friend of mine suggested that I attempt to partake in a little activity some Mom's have the privilege of doing; Time Out. Speak English please woman I don't talk foreign!
No, seriously, she is absolutely right, but not only do I need to find this elusive time out thing, it needs to be the ultimate elusive, gym time out thing. I know I am terribly unfit as well as overweight and perhaps that is what my body is trying to tell me. It seems we, (my body and I that is) don't quite speak the same language yet, so I don't always fully understand what it is trying to tell me, however when you've reached 7pm in the evening and you pass out from pure exhaustion on the sofa before your children do (seriously, I was out COLD), I think that is a clear signal from my body to do something about our current state of affairs. (Note to self, see if Kade has done anything about the thin machine yet, perhaps while he's there he can add on an instant gym machine too.)
So, now it seems, that not only do I have the insurmountable task of attending to every body elses needs, it turns out that I have to actually take care of myself too. I mean talk about a system malfunction, has this old body of mine forgotten that we are a mother now and that kind of stuff is passed it's "all about us" sell by date?
I am seriously considering the whole gym thing, I know it sounds horribly like I don't want to do it, when in theory I really do, it is just, like the whole patience thing is a virtue I do not have, time is a thing I doubt I will ever have. The body and I have entered into talks, supporting arguments and negotiations with Mr. Hubby regarding the whole gym thing, so if I don't go.....well then I can blame my fitness woes on him. Stay tuned.
After having spent a better part of the week coordinating my kids' social, sporting and events calendar, getting up to date with admin that was horribly neglected during the holidays as well as my home, that I certain was also about to boycott me, my body told me in no uncertain terms today that it had well and truly had enough.
A dear friend of mine suggested that I attempt to partake in a little activity some Mom's have the privilege of doing; Time Out. Speak English please woman I don't talk foreign!
No, seriously, she is absolutely right, but not only do I need to find this elusive time out thing, it needs to be the ultimate elusive, gym time out thing. I know I am terribly unfit as well as overweight and perhaps that is what my body is trying to tell me. It seems we, (my body and I that is) don't quite speak the same language yet, so I don't always fully understand what it is trying to tell me, however when you've reached 7pm in the evening and you pass out from pure exhaustion on the sofa before your children do (seriously, I was out COLD), I think that is a clear signal from my body to do something about our current state of affairs. (Note to self, see if Kade has done anything about the thin machine yet, perhaps while he's there he can add on an instant gym machine too.)
So, now it seems, that not only do I have the insurmountable task of attending to every body elses needs, it turns out that I have to actually take care of myself too. I mean talk about a system malfunction, has this old body of mine forgotten that we are a mother now and that kind of stuff is passed it's "all about us" sell by date?
I am seriously considering the whole gym thing, I know it sounds horribly like I don't want to do it, when in theory I really do, it is just, like the whole patience thing is a virtue I do not have, time is a thing I doubt I will ever have. The body and I have entered into talks, supporting arguments and negotiations with Mr. Hubby regarding the whole gym thing, so if I don't go.....well then I can blame my fitness woes on him. Stay tuned.
Monday, 07 April 2008
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
I have tried to put together in words how absolutely desperate I have been feeling of late. Desperate for some quiet, desperate for some peace, for some solitude. I had put it down to the visit of Scarlet O Hellraiser, yet the more I try to bring some peace into my life the more desperate I find myself feeling. Then the guilt sets in; how can I wish for something other than the beauty and wonder of my beautiful children and family that I have right here with me? How can I be so ungrateful? Then self pity sets in followed by confusion and self loathing.
My husband has spent the better part of the last two months travelling and has spent all of one weekend in the last six at home. The pressure of holding the fort is becoming insurmountable to say the least. When my Mother comes to stay and help it often brings on a mixture of emotions; gratitude for a little assistance and some "grown up" company, however she does not always support or respect my mothering ways and shows it; reprimanding me and debating my disciplining techniques right in front of my children, which results in them getting away with anything, because if Mom says no Granny will more than likely say yes. In my fragile Scarlet O Hellraiser state, I am not able to deal with that. The day usually ends with me driving her home and getting bomb blasted for the entire half hour trip there on what a terrible mother I am, how my children will grow up scarred and abhor me, and I spend the next half hour trip driving back home in tears.
My husband asked what on earth is wrong with me, the answer was a mumbling through sobs and tears. When he finally asked what he can do ....just give me some time out, an hour or two, a day being pampered at a spa and if I can milk it for all I am worth a weekend on a deserted island with a chef, maid and butler waiting on me hand and foot.
My husband has spent the better part of the last two months travelling and has spent all of one weekend in the last six at home. The pressure of holding the fort is becoming insurmountable to say the least. When my Mother comes to stay and help it often brings on a mixture of emotions; gratitude for a little assistance and some "grown up" company, however she does not always support or respect my mothering ways and shows it; reprimanding me and debating my disciplining techniques right in front of my children, which results in them getting away with anything, because if Mom says no Granny will more than likely say yes. In my fragile Scarlet O Hellraiser state, I am not able to deal with that. The day usually ends with me driving her home and getting bomb blasted for the entire half hour trip there on what a terrible mother I am, how my children will grow up scarred and abhor me, and I spend the next half hour trip driving back home in tears.
My husband asked what on earth is wrong with me, the answer was a mumbling through sobs and tears. When he finally asked what he can do ....just give me some time out, an hour or two, a day being pampered at a spa and if I can milk it for all I am worth a weekend on a deserted island with a chef, maid and butler waiting on me hand and foot.
Thursday, 27 March 2008
Getting over it
They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
Does it? Or in some cases, does it make the bitter old men and women that end up alone, bitchy and spiting everything and everyone; lashing out, to inflict the same kind of pain and hurt on others that they believe they have endured, and in so doing, attempt to use their attacks as a window to their dark and unhappy souls. There are people out there who are hurting deeply, who have been dealt raw deals in the deck of life and that have never been able to recover from it. I have learned to find empathy for these lost souls.
A happening in one person's life, that may insignificantly pass by without a second thought, may make a Crater of an impact to anothers' soul and very being. It is all about being uniquely you, I suppose.
I have suffered a "death" in my life or less dramatically, an ending. I find myself in a state of mourning, regret, wondering what I could have done to make things have turned out differently. The trouble with reflection, is that often we dwell on these regrets too much and it begins to cast that dark shadow of bitterness over our hearts. At what point do we "get over it"? and why is it that some people just can't?
I thought I could just get over it, move on, get a life and stop being so self-pity-ish. Right now, I can't. A part of me, as the result of this "loss", will actually never be the same again. I came to the realisation today that this is going to be with me for the rest of my life and I am going to be constantly reminded of the sacrifices and choices I made that led me to this result. One can always try and pass the buck or play the blame game and believe me I have tried to locate that dodgy little scapegoat. I yearn for a reason to make my misery something or someone else's fault, so that I have something or someone else to lash out at; yet alas, not only do I have to live with my "loss", I have to learn to live with the knowledge that at the end of the day, I did have a choice somewhere along the way and I chose to sacrifice myself, make myself a "martyr", a superwoman, to ensure the well being (or so I believed) of my family.
It is taking longer than I thought to leave my grieving period behind me and move on to the next stage in the process, to hopefully find the acceptance I need to deal with it. I pray that it does not consume me, take over my life and result in *me* becoming that bitchy old lady that finds herself all alone in the world.
I'm going to go and eat some worms now.
Does it? Or in some cases, does it make the bitter old men and women that end up alone, bitchy and spiting everything and everyone; lashing out, to inflict the same kind of pain and hurt on others that they believe they have endured, and in so doing, attempt to use their attacks as a window to their dark and unhappy souls. There are people out there who are hurting deeply, who have been dealt raw deals in the deck of life and that have never been able to recover from it. I have learned to find empathy for these lost souls.
A happening in one person's life, that may insignificantly pass by without a second thought, may make a Crater of an impact to anothers' soul and very being. It is all about being uniquely you, I suppose.
I have suffered a "death" in my life or less dramatically, an ending. I find myself in a state of mourning, regret, wondering what I could have done to make things have turned out differently. The trouble with reflection, is that often we dwell on these regrets too much and it begins to cast that dark shadow of bitterness over our hearts. At what point do we "get over it"? and why is it that some people just can't?
I thought I could just get over it, move on, get a life and stop being so self-pity-ish. Right now, I can't. A part of me, as the result of this "loss", will actually never be the same again. I came to the realisation today that this is going to be with me for the rest of my life and I am going to be constantly reminded of the sacrifices and choices I made that led me to this result. One can always try and pass the buck or play the blame game and believe me I have tried to locate that dodgy little scapegoat. I yearn for a reason to make my misery something or someone else's fault, so that I have something or someone else to lash out at; yet alas, not only do I have to live with my "loss", I have to learn to live with the knowledge that at the end of the day, I did have a choice somewhere along the way and I chose to sacrifice myself, make myself a "martyr", a superwoman, to ensure the well being (or so I believed) of my family.
It is taking longer than I thought to leave my grieving period behind me and move on to the next stage in the process, to hopefully find the acceptance I need to deal with it. I pray that it does not consume me, take over my life and result in *me* becoming that bitchy old lady that finds herself all alone in the world.
I'm going to go and eat some worms now.
Tuesday, 25 March 2008
Unspoken poetry
Finally my moment had arrived.
I ashamedly yet eagerly had been waiting for this moment all day.
It was warm, smooth and embraced my entire body tenderly and softly.
I stole a moment to melt some silky confection, filled with tiny bubbles into my mouth.
I closed my eyes, sank deep into it until silence befalls me and all I could hear was the relaxed beating of my heart and feel the warmth surrounding my face.
I lay there, savouring the moment, the welcome deafening silence.
My body delighting in the joy of this rare and most sought after moment.
Poetry. Silence. Nothingness.
Complete relaxation.
An intruding noise breaks the silence and breaks the spell.
"Hi Honey I'm home. Oh! you're in the bath."
Thursday, 20 March 2008
Madam Fluff to the rescue
I must admit the last two days have been a bit of a blur. Tuesday was spent mostly under, and then under the effects of sedation, oblivious, yet relaxed and unphased by the world or it's circumstances. Wednesday morning started with recovery, although I felt like I have been in some sort of bar brawl and lost, I thought that I was coping well under the circumstances.
By mid morning I began feeling icy cold, a fine layer of sweat covered my body and I began to feel rather dizzy in my head, soon after that some very unwelcome nausea set in. I called Mr. Hubby with a "I'm not doing too well, please can you fetch the kids plea", but I had left it too late and he was on the other side of town, he wouldn't make it.
I recall one of the Mom's at Snuggle Bug's school greeting me with a "my goodness, are you OK? You look AWFUL!" Why thank you very much, No, I am not feeling too hot, but I was not aware that I looked bloody awful!! The trip between schools is a bit of a haze and I just remember telling myself not to throw up.
At home, I barely got in the door, unpacked the kid's bags, saw that no-one had eaten their sarmies and thought YAY, I don't have to make them lunch (bad mom), instead I gave each of them their lunch boxes and told them that was lunch. I got to the bathroom, tried to phone Mr. Hubby and vaguely recall dropping the phone as he answered, throwing up and then nothing. Waking up, throwing up, someone asking for a yogurt and then nothing.
At one stage I woke up, pulled myself up of the bathroom floor to find Mr. Hubby standing over me asking me if I was alright, hold on!! head in the loo....vomit, hhmmm, just fine, peachy!! Then nothing.
I woke up again at about 6pm to find that Mr. Hubby was giving everyone dinner (KFC) and began trying to piece together the events of the afternoon. Mr. Hubby told me how my little heroin, Madam Fluff, had picked up my cell phone of the bathroom floor, pressed redial and called him. The conversation was apparently something like "Daddy, Mommy is really sick, her teeth are very sore and she is spitting in the toilet. I don't like it. You need to come home now and take her to the doctor!". Clearly by now Mr. Hubby had realised something was amiss and was already on his way home, Madam Fluff, however, proceeded to call him another 4 times to check whether he WAS in fact on his way, where exactly he was and why it was taken him so very long to get home....hee hee and he thought I was a nag!!
I finally "came to" at about 10.30pm. Turns out after a little investigating by Hubby during the course of the afternoon, I had suffered some sort of reaction to the pain medication prescribed. Scary to say the least but my meds have now been changed and I feeling much, much better; back to feeling like I've been in a bar brawl and lost, which now, with some added aching muscles around my midrift, I can deal with.
What I find a little more scary now that I can think back on it was the fact that during this time, my kids were basically left to their own devices; had Fluff not phoned my husband (5 times, she is very proud of that) to make him aware that something really is wrong at home, who knows what could have happened during the time I was "out of it" until he eventually came home; which is usually around 6 - 6.30pm. So I thank God for looking over us yesterday and for giving my Little Madam Fluff the wisdom to phone her Daddy and get some help. Thank you Princess, Mommy loves you.
By mid morning I began feeling icy cold, a fine layer of sweat covered my body and I began to feel rather dizzy in my head, soon after that some very unwelcome nausea set in. I called Mr. Hubby with a "I'm not doing too well, please can you fetch the kids plea", but I had left it too late and he was on the other side of town, he wouldn't make it.
I recall one of the Mom's at Snuggle Bug's school greeting me with a "my goodness, are you OK? You look AWFUL!" Why thank you very much, No, I am not feeling too hot, but I was not aware that I looked bloody awful!! The trip between schools is a bit of a haze and I just remember telling myself not to throw up.
At home, I barely got in the door, unpacked the kid's bags, saw that no-one had eaten their sarmies and thought YAY, I don't have to make them lunch (bad mom), instead I gave each of them their lunch boxes and told them that was lunch. I got to the bathroom, tried to phone Mr. Hubby and vaguely recall dropping the phone as he answered, throwing up and then nothing. Waking up, throwing up, someone asking for a yogurt and then nothing.
At one stage I woke up, pulled myself up of the bathroom floor to find Mr. Hubby standing over me asking me if I was alright, hold on!! head in the loo....vomit, hhmmm, just fine, peachy!! Then nothing.
I woke up again at about 6pm to find that Mr. Hubby was giving everyone dinner (KFC) and began trying to piece together the events of the afternoon. Mr. Hubby told me how my little heroin, Madam Fluff, had picked up my cell phone of the bathroom floor, pressed redial and called him. The conversation was apparently something like "Daddy, Mommy is really sick, her teeth are very sore and she is spitting in the toilet. I don't like it. You need to come home now and take her to the doctor!". Clearly by now Mr. Hubby had realised something was amiss and was already on his way home, Madam Fluff, however, proceeded to call him another 4 times to check whether he WAS in fact on his way, where exactly he was and why it was taken him so very long to get home....hee hee and he thought I was a nag!!
I finally "came to" at about 10.30pm. Turns out after a little investigating by Hubby during the course of the afternoon, I had suffered some sort of reaction to the pain medication prescribed. Scary to say the least but my meds have now been changed and I feeling much, much better; back to feeling like I've been in a bar brawl and lost, which now, with some added aching muscles around my midrift, I can deal with.
What I find a little more scary now that I can think back on it was the fact that during this time, my kids were basically left to their own devices; had Fluff not phoned my husband (5 times, she is very proud of that) to make him aware that something really is wrong at home, who knows what could have happened during the time I was "out of it" until he eventually came home; which is usually around 6 - 6.30pm. So I thank God for looking over us yesterday and for giving my Little Madam Fluff the wisdom to phone her Daddy and get some help. Thank you Princess, Mommy loves you.
Wednesday, 19 March 2008
Conscious Sedation
Thank goodness you don't have to open your mouth when blogging. My mouth is really sore and my head feels like somebody whacked me in the jaw with a baseball bat. Yesterday was my visit to the dentist and I was really, really, afraid. I had to undergo some root and teeth extractions and my dentist suggested conscious sedation; I wasn't entirely convinced by the whole thing, I mean is there anything bar knocking you out completely that could possibly take away the pain inflicted by the dentist. Well I am about to share the truth with you, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
The anesthetist was great, what a magic guy (thank you Dr. McQueen); he explained to me step by step what he was going to do and how my body and I should react; if at any stage I feel uncomfortable or in pain I should let him know. I was ushered into the the dentist's room and asked to make myself comfy on her chair. There were way more gadgets in there than what I am used to seeing; a heart monitor, blood pressure gauge and some funny blue gadget that he had on my lap. I was attached to all the machines via electrodes and a drip like needle was inserted into my arm through which he slowly injected his potion into body. Euphoria, my head began to spin and as I was talking I could feel my speech slow down and the whole world felt like it was in slow motion, wavy euphoric drunken slow motion. I recall thinking to myself "I wonder if this is how a drug addict feels when they get high?" Not bad.
I was able to feel the dentists hands in my mouth and on my face and I could hear her asking me questions, giving me certain instructions and telling when I would "feel a bit of pressure"..HUH Is THAT what they call it?? But thankfully, a "bit of pressure" IS all I felt. I cannot tell you how relieving it is to sit there waiting to feel the most excruciating pain you can imagine (OK, that I can imagine) and all you can feel is some tugging and pulling accompanied with a bit of pressure. It almost reminds me of when I had my C-Sections; I could feel the pressure of the doctor cutting me open and I could feel them tugging and pulling as they took the baby out but I didn't feel any of the pain associated with it.
It is all a bit weird for me, but I am, however, very grateful to the most fantastic person in the whole world that discovered this pain free method of dentistry...THANK YOU...whoever you are.
Once the dentist was done, the drip was removed as well as all the necessary appliances plugged onto my body and I felt myself slowly returning to a state of consciousness, of complete awareness, almost as soon as the medication was removed. I was able to sit up on my own after a few minutes and 15 minutes later I walked out of the rooms. I am certain that they send you home as quickly as possible so that they are not subjected to the cursing and groaning once the numbness in your mouth wears off and what feels like collagen overfilled lips, goes away. Now that is a different story.
I am doing well, considering. The pain relief and medication is really helping and I am just finding it a little awkward to talk at the moment but as they say, "this too shall pass."
The anesthetist was great, what a magic guy (thank you Dr. McQueen); he explained to me step by step what he was going to do and how my body and I should react; if at any stage I feel uncomfortable or in pain I should let him know. I was ushered into the the dentist's room and asked to make myself comfy on her chair. There were way more gadgets in there than what I am used to seeing; a heart monitor, blood pressure gauge and some funny blue gadget that he had on my lap. I was attached to all the machines via electrodes and a drip like needle was inserted into my arm through which he slowly injected his potion into body. Euphoria, my head began to spin and as I was talking I could feel my speech slow down and the whole world felt like it was in slow motion, wavy euphoric drunken slow motion. I recall thinking to myself "I wonder if this is how a drug addict feels when they get high?" Not bad.
I was able to feel the dentists hands in my mouth and on my face and I could hear her asking me questions, giving me certain instructions and telling when I would "feel a bit of pressure"..HUH Is THAT what they call it?? But thankfully, a "bit of pressure" IS all I felt. I cannot tell you how relieving it is to sit there waiting to feel the most excruciating pain you can imagine (OK, that I can imagine) and all you can feel is some tugging and pulling accompanied with a bit of pressure. It almost reminds me of when I had my C-Sections; I could feel the pressure of the doctor cutting me open and I could feel them tugging and pulling as they took the baby out but I didn't feel any of the pain associated with it.
It is all a bit weird for me, but I am, however, very grateful to the most fantastic person in the whole world that discovered this pain free method of dentistry...THANK YOU...whoever you are.
Once the dentist was done, the drip was removed as well as all the necessary appliances plugged onto my body and I felt myself slowly returning to a state of consciousness, of complete awareness, almost as soon as the medication was removed. I was able to sit up on my own after a few minutes and 15 minutes later I walked out of the rooms. I am certain that they send you home as quickly as possible so that they are not subjected to the cursing and groaning once the numbness in your mouth wears off and what feels like collagen overfilled lips, goes away. Now that is a different story.
I am doing well, considering. The pain relief and medication is really helping and I am just finding it a little awkward to talk at the moment but as they say, "this too shall pass."
Monday, 17 March 2008
Scaredy Cat
While Kade has had a few visits by the tooth fairy, I have had repeated visits by the tooth monster. Although I having discovered the new and blissful world of drugs (painkillers), I have finally relented and am reluctantly allowing myself to be taken hostage by an evil mercenary that goes by the name of "the dentist".
Frankly I am rather petrified. I am not big on a lot of things and dentists, or anyone in the medical field or any field for that matter that inflicts any sort of pain on my body of any sort. Yes, you would have guessed right....I have no tattoo's either. For goodness sake people, I need to practically be high on dormicum before I'll allow a nursing sister to take a blood sample. Hhmm, I can hear you thinking...how on earth did this woman manage to have 3 kids??? Trust me, it wasn't easy.
I begged the dentist to let me go under general anaesthetic for my root canals and extractions but my medical aid didn't fall for it. I am certain that due to my panic attack anxiety, my dentist would probably prefer it if I were unconscious. She has suggested conscious sedation. Basically I will be awake the entire hour and a half that this woman is going to pull out 2 roots and two molars, while I am awake and conscious, and she is trying to convince me that I won't remember or feel a thing. PLEASE oh PLEASE if there is anybody out there who has had this procedure done and can verify this....I neeeeed to know.
It has been suggested that I do not operate any heavy or moving machinery (I am certain the stove falls under this category) for at least 24 hours after the procedure and it is even recommended that one does not sign any legal documents during this time either (would this include blogging???) Clearly the evil dentist is not a mother or they would have added that "it is not recommended that the patient look after any children for at least a week after surgery.".....One can dream. The little buggers are going to love that Mommy is not going to be able to talk to them for a few days, never mind raise her shrieking voice from time to time.
I guess the bottom line is that we can add, ashamedly, another weakness to my already dodgy persona. I am an anal, nutty, insecure, and now scaredy cat with a split personality.
Wish me luck.
Frankly I am rather petrified. I am not big on a lot of things and dentists, or anyone in the medical field or any field for that matter that inflicts any sort of pain on my body of any sort. Yes, you would have guessed right....I have no tattoo's either. For goodness sake people, I need to practically be high on dormicum before I'll allow a nursing sister to take a blood sample. Hhmm, I can hear you thinking...how on earth did this woman manage to have 3 kids??? Trust me, it wasn't easy.
I begged the dentist to let me go under general anaesthetic for my root canals and extractions but my medical aid didn't fall for it. I am certain that due to my panic attack anxiety, my dentist would probably prefer it if I were unconscious. She has suggested conscious sedation. Basically I will be awake the entire hour and a half that this woman is going to pull out 2 roots and two molars, while I am awake and conscious, and she is trying to convince me that I won't remember or feel a thing. PLEASE oh PLEASE if there is anybody out there who has had this procedure done and can verify this....I neeeeed to know.
It has been suggested that I do not operate any heavy or moving machinery (I am certain the stove falls under this category) for at least 24 hours after the procedure and it is even recommended that one does not sign any legal documents during this time either (would this include blogging???) Clearly the evil dentist is not a mother or they would have added that "it is not recommended that the patient look after any children for at least a week after surgery.".....One can dream. The little buggers are going to love that Mommy is not going to be able to talk to them for a few days, never mind raise her shrieking voice from time to time.
I guess the bottom line is that we can add, ashamedly, another weakness to my already dodgy persona. I am an anal, nutty, insecure, and now scaredy cat with a split personality.
Wish me luck.
Thursday, 06 March 2008
My split personality
From time to time I sit here (in front of my PC) and think, what do I say? or better yet, how do I say it? I have so many things churning away in my head, at times, like a washing machine, sometimes going slowly, careful making sure each item gets a little soap and softener and then other times it is just spinning so fast that to stop the machine at that moment would completely break the cycle and perhaps a few mechanical parts.
I recently read a fellow blogger's notes that put it all into perspective, something in me awoke and said HELLO!! this is what I am talking about, how did you know?? The song "killing me softly" came to mind. Have you been reading my thoughts and then blogging them on my behalf? OK I think not. So I'll try to explain it as best as I can, keeping my "machine", hopefully, on a constant cycle.
I have a split personality. There I said it. There are officially two people living in my brain.
There is Tanya the go-go-girl, the one who is optimistic and full of gusto and spends her time listing over and over again the tasks that need to be set out for the day, the week, the month..it goes on, she doesn't stop, I must, I must, I must sparkle those toilets today, suck the life out that dust lurking in the *entire house*, sing along with Mr. Muscle and KFM on the kitchen floor, have lunch and supper prepared before anybody gets home, have done all her DARLING husband's admin for the day,have it all neatly and prettily prepared and laid out for him to check when he makes "his arrival", upon which she will meet him at the door, with a loving smile and cheerful school girlish giggle, she will run to him and leap into his arms (hopefully without killing him or crushing him) and inform him with love and lust the he is the best thing that she has seen this ENTIRE day. The children will be happy and smiling, gleaming from their baths, hair neatly combed and tummies filled, she will tuck them all into bed, singing and humming beautiful bed time prayers and songs and they will drift off into slumber land with smiles on their cherub faces and have the sweetest of dreams. She will merrily complete the day's tasks leaving the house sparkling clean and fresh for the new day before ravaging her husband in ways that only she knows how and that he likes best!
Right now Tanya the no-no-girl is trying to step in, she is the one who walks into the house after having dropped the kids off in the morning at school, stands at the front door and thinks "shit, this place is a mess!" Bugger! she forgot to pay the school photo's again, does she HAVE to go and sit on the Computer now and finish all that paper work, trying to ignore the little "launch internet explorer browser" icon calling her from the bottom of the desktop. Trying desperately to keep her mind wondering about what every one has been up to on Facebook.
Coffee, coffee, maybe if she has some coffee, things will look a little clearer, then again, if she doesn't go into the kitchen, she won't be reminded of all the breakfast dishes that still need to be washed and the laundry waiting on the kitchen counter, deliberately left there by go-go-girl in the hope that we would do ironing too this morning. How many hours do I have before I have to pick up Snuggle Bug?
"Yes, I know, I heard her, go-go-girl wants to tackle the kids' rooms before they get home, but the little buggers left the smallest little lego's strewn all over both bedrooms, no-no-girl wonders if the vacuum cleaner is strong enough? maybe they won't notice if the lego tub is only half full this afternoon?? Crap, look at the time! Maybe she could get away with throwing all the toys into the toy box for another time when go-go-girl feels it's time to alphabetize the toys again, that could work. No-no-girl is constantly tired, needing more sleep, coffee, tonics, just to stay awake for the day, never mind tackle all the things that need to be tackled, sometimes she wishes that the tasks were real physical things that she COULD tackle and smack them and say YOU SHIT, you made my day hell today, why couldn't you just stay away.
There are times when go-go-girl and no-no-girl reach a compromise, yes there are those times, strained, awkward and with very little said, they co-operate now and again and meet each other half way. Hopefully like now, with 2 and a half hours and counting before we fetch Snuggle Bug.
I recently read a fellow blogger's notes that put it all into perspective, something in me awoke and said HELLO!! this is what I am talking about, how did you know?? The song "killing me softly" came to mind. Have you been reading my thoughts and then blogging them on my behalf? OK I think not. So I'll try to explain it as best as I can, keeping my "machine", hopefully, on a constant cycle.
I have a split personality. There I said it. There are officially two people living in my brain.
There is Tanya the go-go-girl, the one who is optimistic and full of gusto and spends her time listing over and over again the tasks that need to be set out for the day, the week, the month..it goes on, she doesn't stop, I must, I must, I must sparkle those toilets today, suck the life out that dust lurking in the *entire house*, sing along with Mr. Muscle and KFM on the kitchen floor, have lunch and supper prepared before anybody gets home, have done all her DARLING husband's admin for the day,have it all neatly and prettily prepared and laid out for him to check when he makes "his arrival", upon which she will meet him at the door, with a loving smile and cheerful school girlish giggle, she will run to him and leap into his arms (hopefully without killing him or crushing him) and inform him with love and lust the he is the best thing that she has seen this ENTIRE day. The children will be happy and smiling, gleaming from their baths, hair neatly combed and tummies filled, she will tuck them all into bed, singing and humming beautiful bed time prayers and songs and they will drift off into slumber land with smiles on their cherub faces and have the sweetest of dreams. She will merrily complete the day's tasks leaving the house sparkling clean and fresh for the new day before ravaging her husband in ways that only she knows how and that he likes best!
Right now Tanya the no-no-girl is trying to step in, she is the one who walks into the house after having dropped the kids off in the morning at school, stands at the front door and thinks "shit, this place is a mess!" Bugger! she forgot to pay the school photo's again, does she HAVE to go and sit on the Computer now and finish all that paper work, trying to ignore the little "launch internet explorer browser" icon calling her from the bottom of the desktop. Trying desperately to keep her mind wondering about what every one has been up to on Facebook.
Coffee, coffee, maybe if she has some coffee, things will look a little clearer, then again, if she doesn't go into the kitchen, she won't be reminded of all the breakfast dishes that still need to be washed and the laundry waiting on the kitchen counter, deliberately left there by go-go-girl in the hope that we would do ironing too this morning. How many hours do I have before I have to pick up Snuggle Bug?
"Yes, I know, I heard her, go-go-girl wants to tackle the kids' rooms before they get home, but the little buggers left the smallest little lego's strewn all over both bedrooms, no-no-girl wonders if the vacuum cleaner is strong enough? maybe they won't notice if the lego tub is only half full this afternoon?? Crap, look at the time! Maybe she could get away with throwing all the toys into the toy box for another time when go-go-girl feels it's time to alphabetize the toys again, that could work. No-no-girl is constantly tired, needing more sleep, coffee, tonics, just to stay awake for the day, never mind tackle all the things that need to be tackled, sometimes she wishes that the tasks were real physical things that she COULD tackle and smack them and say YOU SHIT, you made my day hell today, why couldn't you just stay away.
There are times when go-go-girl and no-no-girl reach a compromise, yes there are those times, strained, awkward and with very little said, they co-operate now and again and meet each other half way. Hopefully like now, with 2 and a half hours and counting before we fetch Snuggle Bug.
Wednesday, 20 February 2008
Where does a mother go to resign?
I must admit I've been having a little bit of an "off" day, well actually a couple of off days. I have been going through a teenage phase of "I don't want to!".(actually that sounds more like my 3 year old) When my alarm goes off at 5.30 am, I just don't want to get up; I get to the kitchen and just don't want to make breakfast or lunches or fight over who hasn't even taken a bite of their food in the last half an hour it's been in front of them. I don't want to argue over who gets to put the toothpaste on the toothbrushes or which shoes go with that outfit or who gets to sit in front in the car. Every day we pretty much follow the same routine and have the same arguments and fights every day, it's become almost like clockwork. I'm tired of playing seargent major 24/7.
I am actually not really sure if I'm just too uptight, I must admit I can be a bit of a perfectionist. I absolutely love my family to bits, but surely any normal mother needs some place or time to just get away and say no! I don't want to.
Mark and I recently had a bit of an argument about "time out". I had asked him to please be home at a specific time one Friday afternoon so that I could take Kade to the Youth group at our church. Low and behold if I don't call him 15 min before he's supposed to be home and he's sitting in a pub around the corner. To make a long story short, if possible, he accused me of only allowing him "time out" when it suited me and my daily schedule, admittedly I would prefer it if he came home after work, helped out as much as he felt he could and have the rest of the night off once the kids were in bed. This clearly did not suit him. I threw one straight back saying that I am only allowed to take time off when it suits all of them and lets just for a moment imagine the chaos if I were to decide right here and now to just walk out the door and go shopping because it was convenient for me at the time and, well, stuff all of you!!
I suppose what gets me down is that while he is able to get up and go on a whim, because I am always there, but it becomes a different story when the tables are turned. In order for me to plan a night out , I have to make sure he's actually going to be in town; make sure that he doesn't have any plans and then I usually make sure the kids are all bathed, fed, and almost put to bed before I try to leave.
While being a mom and wife is my top priority and as my own mother reminds me ..constantly... a mother's job is to sacrifice, put a smile on your dial and just get on with it without complaining, because that might push him away and then he'll look elsewhere......Although life and love will always come with sacrifice, I still can't help wondering if being a mother and wife means having to sacrifice your entire being until you no longer know who you are, what you enjoy anymore and wake up to realise you don't have a friend in the world because you've sacrificed them all.
There are certainly days when you wouldn't trade your life or your family for anything in the entire world and then there are days where you stop and think , hold on, please tell me where did I actually sign up for this, stop the bus please, it's just going too fast.
To make a long story even shorter, I'm really tired and would just love a day off, to go out and spend a day being pampered and spoilt, doing what ever I please and then of course coming home to my happy brady bunch, a spotlessly clean house and a three course dinner.
I am actually not really sure if I'm just too uptight, I must admit I can be a bit of a perfectionist. I absolutely love my family to bits, but surely any normal mother needs some place or time to just get away and say no! I don't want to.
Mark and I recently had a bit of an argument about "time out". I had asked him to please be home at a specific time one Friday afternoon so that I could take Kade to the Youth group at our church. Low and behold if I don't call him 15 min before he's supposed to be home and he's sitting in a pub around the corner. To make a long story short, if possible, he accused me of only allowing him "time out" when it suited me and my daily schedule, admittedly I would prefer it if he came home after work, helped out as much as he felt he could and have the rest of the night off once the kids were in bed. This clearly did not suit him. I threw one straight back saying that I am only allowed to take time off when it suits all of them and lets just for a moment imagine the chaos if I were to decide right here and now to just walk out the door and go shopping because it was convenient for me at the time and, well, stuff all of you!!
I suppose what gets me down is that while he is able to get up and go on a whim, because I am always there, but it becomes a different story when the tables are turned. In order for me to plan a night out , I have to make sure he's actually going to be in town; make sure that he doesn't have any plans and then I usually make sure the kids are all bathed, fed, and almost put to bed before I try to leave.
While being a mom and wife is my top priority and as my own mother reminds me ..constantly... a mother's job is to sacrifice, put a smile on your dial and just get on with it without complaining, because that might push him away and then he'll look elsewhere......Although life and love will always come with sacrifice, I still can't help wondering if being a mother and wife means having to sacrifice your entire being until you no longer know who you are, what you enjoy anymore and wake up to realise you don't have a friend in the world because you've sacrificed them all.
There are certainly days when you wouldn't trade your life or your family for anything in the entire world and then there are days where you stop and think , hold on, please tell me where did I actually sign up for this, stop the bus please, it's just going too fast.
To make a long story even shorter, I'm really tired and would just love a day off, to go out and spend a day being pampered and spoilt, doing what ever I please and then of course coming home to my happy brady bunch, a spotlessly clean house and a three course dinner.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)