extreme shitness

I cannot think of a profanity worthy enough to use to describe the level of shitness we have experienced here in the last fortnight. That last photo is quite good. Compared to where things went from there.

We are climbing back, ever so slowly. Just in time to get the hell out of this place and head for the sunshine.

Melbourne, every winter you make me like you less and less. I will be overfuckingjoyed to fly away from you.

marching on

Dear March

I can't believe you're gone already.. your stay seemed so short. You were wonderful and challenging, exhilarating and horrid, all rolled into one. You gave me firsts, in collections and meetings, challenges, sleep deprivation, laziness, celebration, enjoyment, surprise, satisfaction and finally, relief. While the horrid was consistent and unforgiving, the dotted wonderful here and there stamped it's authority to make me remember you in a wonderfully generous, giving light. Midway through, I had my doubts. But you turned out to be pretty damn great.

Your friend, April, is finally here and she has brought beautiful southern winds with her. The nice kind - where a cool, cleansing breeze can blow through the house, shoo-ing away the last of the stubborn nasties, lingering in dark corners. Your not-so-lovely friend, May, will have more bite to her I am sure. Singlets are being worn and dressing gowns pulled from their hooks. The Easter Bunny delivered fluffy new winter jarmies to the smalls. The washing now has a curfew to avoid the damp night air, no carefree 9pm collections happening anymore. The heater has even been humming these last few mornings as the sun has taken it's sweet, sweet time shining it's warmth through our windows. I am so glad she will bring with her, an end to daylight savings. While it makes no song and dance for our smalls at bedtime (thanks to the most awesome creator of blockout curtains), I will simply be happy to see the sun rise, and the evening fall, as nature intended.

We swapped the kids' rooms around last weekend, moving Ruby back on her own and the boys together, for the first time. Ruby can have more time in the evenings for her reading and we can gently (or firmly) encourage Cole's focus of brotherly love to come in a more gentle way. For one day, Eliot will be bigger than he.. 

So thanks for the memories, March. The official newness of the year is behind us, though I have a pleasant feeling that newness will continue to show itself here and there, as I meet more new faces in the months to come.

Till next year..

xT

bugs

They've been hanging around for weeks. And totally screwed up my weekend. Following the relentlessness of unhappy children and handing out medicine at the demand of the big hand, I cracked. A simple trip to the chemist and then to the shops for necessary supplies, two painfully exhausting children in tow, was my undoing. Plus the headache. The throbbing headache that comes, without fail, every rare opportunity I take, to sleep in. To try and take some time for myself to catch up on weeks of early starts and late nights and disrupted sleeping, taking care of a sick household. The cruel irony is just so.. cruel.

On Friday I experienced quite a humorous parenting low. I can only say it was humorous now, because it turned out okay. After five and half years of packing one, two, three children into the car - wherever it is that we have been - then packing the pram into the boot, I missed a step. Late in the afternoon I checked a message on my phone from a friend - I've got your pram, you left it on the footpath! LOL. I assure you I was not LOL-ing. How the fark do you forget to pack a bright red pram into your car? When I collected it from my friend she said, Hey! Could have been worse - you could have left a kid in there too! This is true. Though I'm pretty sure I would have noticed fairly quickly if I was down one kid whereas prior to receiving the message from my friend, I had no idea that my boot was empty and the pram, nowhere to be found. We laughed and laughed, even through the embarrassment of my parenting low. She knew how rough the last couple of weeks had been, how little sleep I had managed in between the restless nights of a sick household. I am truly grateful for her friendship. And for knowing how to fold up a Phil & Teds so she could take it home for me.

When I retold the story to my mum, she laughed that laugh that almost makes tears well in your eyes, and then told me about the time she had done the same thing. She left it at the trots one night after piling us all in the car - the only difference being, when she went back to get it in the morning - after realising what she'd done - it was nowhere to be found. I didn't feel so silly after that. Thanks mum.

So, ever left your pram/kid on the side of the road? Or anywhere for that matter?!

*Yes, my windows really are that filthy, after the pest control man came to kill all the spiders hiding in our brickwork and eaves this week - liquid death dribbling down all our windows..

still here

The big number 5 was still going strong, one month later. Though it resembled more of a number 2 or an S, depending on how you looked at it. We set her free. It was so fun.

So the slowness continues. Filling repeat prescriptions, burning eucalyptus, evening Vicks rubbing, finally an end to the conjunctivitis eye drops, a few more trips to the doctor, one for myself, convinced I had an ear infection too, apparently something viral, over the counter head/sinus decongestant only masking the problem, suffering the kind of pain that brings you to tears once it's worn off and you've used up your 6 tiny tablets for the day. On the whole, the fog seems to be clearing, ever so slowly. Painfully slowly.

Time is marching on, the lists are growing, in size and amounts of. How is it November next week? Christmas decorations in every shop I walk past, in every catalogue that gets pushed through the letterbox. Deadlines every other week for dance concert rehearsals, photo days, prep orientation, fee tuition forms, uniform price lists, uniform shop open days and times, flights to book, present lists to make, birthday parties every weekend, get togethers, early Christmas gatherings, photo shoots.. the list goes on. Including a little bloggy birthday. Next week marks one year of ramblings here in my little corner of the interwebs. I was going to be all organised with something - a giveaway? Isn't that what we're meant to do to celebrate?! Sickness totally screwed that up. There is still a little time, I'm sure I can come up with something.

MIA

Apologies for my disappearing act. Last week was long. Loooooong. Three sick children, double ear infections, throat infection, two down with conjunctivitis, viral infections.. organising to disappear for two days, trying to finish a gift to give my sister for her baby shower was near impossible, technically I finished it the day I left, in the wee hours. I feel like I just blinked, saw the last two days in fast forward, and here I am, back home again, more tired than I left. I didn't think that was possible?!

Things need to move very slowly here this week, my poor smalls are fighting for their health, Cole in particular. Things may be quiet here again this week depending on how the kids recuperate, though I am very much looking forward to getting back into a gentle rhythm after an overflowing calendar and task list, last week.

Despite the exhaustion the last week and quick trip away has brought, I really had the most wonderful time celebrating my little sister's beautiful bump. You know there will be a photo flood to share soon.

52 weeks of grateful :: resilience

There is little good to see when a child is ill. They can go down hill so quickly. But the best part I see, the most grateful part I see, is how quickly they can bounce back.

Vomiting? What vomiting? Consumption of vegemite toast clearly evident, post hospital trip. We're on the up.

More gratefuls over at Kidspot Village Voices with Bron

52 weeks of grateful :: 24 hour clinic

He had a rough weekend. Not that you can tell here. Two lots of antibiotics and nurofen will do that to you. The weekend saw us making two evening trips to the 24 hour clinic. Friday night for croup, Sunday night for an ear infection. He's probably been the healthiest of the three, this winter. Well, Winter, you really made up for that. You bastard.

Despite the bastardness the remnants of winter left for us, we were able to obtain medical assistance quickly and easily. We live a short drive from a 24 hour clinic that I have frequented a good handful of times in the wee hours with the smalls, seeking diagnosis - and drugs - to try and ease their ailments. Sure, I have never seen the same doctor twice, and I am not as comfortable taking their advice as opposed to our regular, trusted GP, but in the middle of the night when you have a screaming, inconsolable child in your arms, I am forever grateful for the all-night-working doctors, their comfortable seating, multiple plasma screens to keep tired mamas awake, and of course their all night pharmacy.

Last night I came home with my boy sound asleep. Filled with panadol and nurofen. One alone was not enough to stop the pain. He laid on my lap while I put the antibiotic drops in his sore ear, and there he slept while, coincidentally, I watched how lucky we are to have access to health care the way that we do. Grateful I am not American. Grateful I live in this lucky country. Grateful my boy was no longer in pain.

Linking up with more gratefuls for Kidspot Village Voices

today

I wish we were doing this.

Instead we are hiding inside from the 'possible showers' that appear far more hurricane-like to me. Thanks Melbourne. I really don't like you at all today. Or yesterday for that matter. You make it really hard to get rid of annoying head colds that are being lovingly shared while we are forced to stay indoors.

I miss the sunshine. And a dry playground.