I did it.

I finished my Masters degree.

Holy cow. I really did it.

Now what? Well, I have enrolled in the PLT (Practical Legal Training) which will start in December, finishing at the end of March, and then hopefully I can obtain a placement somewhere and get lawyering!!!!

So there you go. If you set your mind to something, you can do anything. I'm proof :)

My my!

Well hasn't it been a long time......

Has anyone missed me? I do wonder you know......

So things have been busy. I've been working full-time, trying to complete my Masters, and looking after my rapidly growing munchkins. Angus is walking (make that running) all over the place, and is 1 now. Lexi is becoming such a little girl, with the attitude of a 16 year old and Tabitha, well, she's Tabitha. Love them all to bits.

I've decided blogliness is not so much an option at the moment, as you have probably realised. I just don't have the time, nor do I have a reliable internet connection, which makes it ever more challenging. So I have decided to turn to the busy person's blog.......twitter.

So if you feel like keeping up with me, I've just set myself up on twitter, and I tweet when I remember that I have actually set up an account. Hopefully it'll be my way of keeping up with the online world out there in a random way. And there will no doubt be several train-based tweets so be prepared for those as well as those involving the mini ones and myself (of course).

Thanks for following for so long, and I"m sorry I haven't been around, but time waits for no man, and time is precious. And not something I can readily fabricate. So for now, till things settle, the twit is it.

That, for now, is all.

Oh, and for those that do want to follow, I'm christobelle73 :) Original, I know.

Weekend.

That word used to mean nothing to me. My other half worked seven days a week, and me, I studied and looked after the kids, rarely going out, so basically all days were the same.

Not now. Now I'm working.

So the last couple of days I have had a "weekend" for the first time in as long as I can remember. We didn't do anything monumental. We played with toys, we sang some songs, we did some cooking, played some games, watched some tv, and just chilled. And now it is the end of Sunday, everyone else is asleep, and I am sitting here with a glass of wine watching Masterchef thinking about the fact that tomorrow I am going back to work and will be there for five days before another one of these elusive creatures called a weekend comes along again.

I'm loving working. I really am. Whilst I am not doing what I will eventually be doing it is a means to an end. I am edging my way back in to the workforce, basically to make sure I can do it, and that the kids are okay with my doing it. For they are always my first concern. If they aren't handling it then that is that. But they are. And while part of me is rapt that they are another part of me is slightly sad, because it means that the role I have undertaken for the last three years is now over. No longer am I a SAHM - a stay at home mum. I'm a working mum. And I get home and see the kids for an hour or so before they go to bed, for a short while in the morning, and on the weekends. I won't lie - it's emotional.

But I do think it's all for the good. I really do. Lexi didn't cry when she dropped me off at the station on Friday, unlike every other day of the past week. And once I had been dropped off she said "I want to go to school now". School is daycare - but she calls it school. So it seems that she has adjusted. Remarkably quickly. And yes, it's great, but yes it is also sad.

I'm looking forward to what the future holds from a work perspective. I am looking forward to utilizing everything I have studied in a practical sense, and to do so I must take a few further steps and see if I can get myself into that kind of role. And I'm doing that. Tomorrow. So wish me luck.

It will take a while to get myself totally in sync, and to make sure things are on track, but they are well on the way. And it is good. Yes, it is very good.

It is just astounding how quickly things change. And how quickly babies become infants, then toddlers, then children. Young children. Little people.

Every day I look at my kids and feel my heart grow larger. I am so very grateful I was blessed enough to have these three miracles in my life, and now it is my time to work to give them the things I so wish for them, aside from that which I could never NOT give them - my undying love. Forever.

Isn't it amazing

how quickly things can change? One minute everyone is healthy, next minute it's 2.30am and a child is vomiting all over her bed. Just as an example.

I got all my essays finished and submitted so was very glad to see the end of this semester. Not that I didn't enjoy it; quite the contrary in fact. I do believe it has been my most enjoyable semester of study thus far. I'm very glad I did the subjects that I did, and actually enjoyed doing the assignments (shock horror what a nerd!).

We're still all ticking along here however there has been one monumental change. On Wednesday I decided to apply for a job. Just to see what would happen. I got an interview. I attended that interview on Thursday. And I start work next Tuesday. Insane!! So it is a one month temporary position and will be a perfect opportunity for me to see how I go in the workforce, and how the kidlets go at not having me here day in and day out. I'm really hoping it works because to be honest I am missing working. Not that I don't love spending time with the kids, but I have been a SAHM for over three years and am getting itchy feet to get out and do some paid work, and get into practice some of the things that I have been learning for the past 6 years.

I won't be working as a solicitor because I haven't done the required components to practise, however I will be working at a law firm and will get the opportunity to see how various different departments run and that for me at this point in time is ideal.

So I shall see how everything balances - work, family, relaxation, study. Will be an interesting experiment.

The kiddies are all doing pretty well. Mini chicks have both had the hurls, and Tabitha spent a day at home on Wednesday while the others went to school because she wasn't well and I didn't really want the rest of the daycare children to pick up what she had. And you know what? It was great to spend some one on one time with her. And I think she loved it too :) So everything happens for a reason.

I'm trying to get my head around the whole "going back to work" concept. It has been 3.5 years since I worked outside the home. Any hints would be GREATLY appreciated so feel free to put in your two cents' worth.......

One down

two to go. Essays I mean. I just submitted my Human Rights essay and I must say I'm pretty happy with it. I will do how I do, but however I do, I did my best so I'm happy with that.

The next one (due tomorrow, which is of course why I am hard at it writing a blog entry) is related to terrorism. The next one after that is reflections on sports law.

I must say I really didn't anticipate that by doing my Masters I would actually LEARN so much. I realise that the whole point of studying is to learn etc etc, but to be honest with you as most people would agree, when you are doing a degree the goal is just to pass. Once you get to postgrad level though, there is a bit more there. You get to choose all your subjects, not have to do the ones assigned to you. This in itself has been a huge plus. Although I did choose a few subjects for their utility in the future rather than my enjoyment level in them now, one factor I did make sure I had for all subjects was the absence of exams. For I truly suck in examination conditions. I could know the subject inside out and back to front and come exam time all I can think about is why the jam in jam donuts is not the same as the jam you get in jam jars. Riveting and useful things like that.

Anyway, I'm doing fully course based subjects and it suits me to a tee.

The kids are doing well. Tabitha had another review and xray yesterday and her leg seems to be healing up well, so only three more weeks in the full cast. That means only three more weeks of sponge baths. I hate sponge baths. Tabitha hates sponge baths. We both put up with them because we have to, and the screams and cries she lets out while she's having one are echoed in my mind for I do believe I hate them as much as she does. She has taken to saying "boo" when you put her top over her head too. First time she did it I just about wet myself laughing because it was so random. Now she pops up "boo" every random chance she gets. We'll be sitting watching tv and she'll drag herself to standing, peek over the sofa, utter a "boo", smile and giggle, then pop herself back down on the ground again.

Lexi has become incredibly clingy of late. And the tantrums. Oh. My. Lord. They say two is a bad age. Well whoever said that obviously didn't have time to come back and revise once their child turned three because holy crap it is ridiculous. The other day we had the mother of all temper tantrums. About what? Stage one of the tantrum - I attempted to help Lexi remove her top for her bath. And it was on. Loudly. For approximately 25 minutes. Stage 2? A hanky. Yes. A hanky. Ah the joys of parenthood.

Lil man now has four wonderful teeth and several more threatening to burst the banks of his little gums. He seems to be slowly recovering from the bronchiolitis that has plagued him for most of his short little life which is a blessed relief. Hearing your child struggle for breath all day and night is terrifying.

As for me, well, I'm hanging in there. I will be glad when these essays are submitted, which will hopefully be in the next couple of days. For once they are done there remain only two subjects, and once they are done so is my Masters! WOOHOO!!!

So I shall attempt to continue with my views on terrorism and hope the night is not too late, not too disrupted, and productive in the essay stakes.

It would appear

that it is getting further and further apart, the time between my entries.

It has been another busy busy week. Not all good, but not all bad.

Lil mini dude ended up in emergency the other night because his breathing got so bad. Bronchiolitis is a mongrel, that's all I'll say. So we changed the paed review to earlier, and he confirmed it was another case of bronchiolitis on top of the case he never quite got rid of. Poor little man.

And Tabitha had review with the fracture clinic 2 weeks after the plaster was put on. Apparently the break was too severe for that type of plaster so they had to remove that cast and put on a full leg cast up to her bum. I asked them to sedate her. They said no because they would have to admit her, put in a line, etc etc and often it is more distressing. So I said to them that's fine but you have been warned. I think I was more than fair.

So when we arrived at the plaster room, just down the hallway, and the screaming started (mind you that was before she even went in) I wasn't surprised. She was overdue for a nap, we had been waiting over an hour to see the doctor, she was hungry, and just generally miserable. And then they wanted to go at her plastered leg with a saw. It was never going to go well.

So she screamed. A lot. And I was holding her and trying to reassure her as the student plaster chick watched on and Mr In Charge plaster man tried to get the cast off. And in rolled another plaster person (he wasn't actually made of plaster, but he was a plasterer too, not a wall plasterer, a leg and arm and stuff one, you know what I mean). Anyway, he rocked in and attempted to help by holding her other leg. Big mistake. It would appear that the more people attempted to satiate her the stronger she fought and the louder she became. And the thrashing, let's not even go there.

So that cast came off and he started getting the next one ready. And the screaming commenced. And he was silly enough to say "she'll get tired of it soon". I simply replied "You'd think that wouldn't you?".

And after two or three more minutes another passing nurse (male) walked in and attempted to help, with Mr In Charge plaster man almost diving to prevent him touching Tabitha's other leg for fear the thrashing would recommence. And they started wrapping with the blue stuff, more screaming, yet another person came in. It was quite amazing, just how many people ended up in that small room. Oh, and I should mention that Lexi did not feel the need to stay outside with nana and Angus, no, she wanted to be with us. So she was wandering around in between grown up legs and tables and machinery. Fun times, fun times.

The plaster made it on to her leg, all the way up. And Mr In Charge plaster man says "If the doctor doesn't like the job I've done, tell him he can do it himself". There you go. I warned them. I wasn't unhappy with the job he did, I just think it was less "neat" than he was used to. Bit of a perfectionist perhaps.

Then we had to get it xrayed. That was fun too. One 22 month old requires three adults to remain still for a leg xray in case you wondered.

I'm sure there have been quite a few other things happen but to be perfectly honest with you I have absolutely no idea what they are. I have been intermittently (between hospital appointments and unscheduled visits) trying to get three essays done, none of which are small, and all of which are worth 60% each of my course mark for that subject.

Last night I managed to finally get to sleep at around 3.30 only to have Angus wake up not even an hour later, and Tabitha again. She had an horrific night. I am sure it wouldn't be comfortable with that plaster on.

Anyway, now everyone is asleep, I'm on here feeling bad that I haven't written for such a long time and feeling even worse that what used to be such a light hearted look at the antics of my kids has more become an agenda of hospital and doctor visits!!

They still make me laugh though, on a regular basis, and that's what makes it all okay. Mini dude now has four teeth - the bottom middle two and two random side ones up the top. And he claps. And can pull himself up to standing. It is astounding how fast they grow.

And the girls, well, they are characters as per usual.

Hopefully next time I write will not be so far in the future and will hold some of the little gems that I used to love to share. For now, while the world sleeps I will try and do some study. Today I think it will be sports law. Just cos.

Apparently

the acceptable time frame is approximately one hour and thirty-two minutes.

She said sorry.

I stuck to my guns.

And god was it hard.

How long does it take

for a child to give in and say sorry to her sister after clocking her with the box the blocks came in....

Well, so far it has been an hour and 6 minutes.

I'll keep you updated.

Just a quick visual

to start the day....

The kids all got up very early. Lexi hopped into bed with me at around 4.30am, and Angus woke up at about 10 to 5. The three of us got up to the dulcet tones of Tabitha squawking and everyone was in the lounge by just before 5. Early morning.

Tabitha took a while to calm down, as per usual, and was doing the usual "uuuh uuuuh uuuuuuuh" she does when she's too lazy to speak but wants me to pick her up. So I did, Angus rolled around on the floor with some toys and Lexi went over to her toy kitchen.

Little sounds as she got some pots together and a few little utensils, popped onto the kitchen and then it started....the singing......

"Happy booooooorthday to Leeeeexi. Happy boooooorthday to Lexi." She was making her birthday cake and singing herself a birthday tune. As you do. Have never met a child more obsessed with her birthday. And Tabitha crawled up in the background, grabbed some pots and started to make a strawberry. Again, as you do.

Today is a reminder. A reminder that we aren't here for a long time and we never quite know when that time is up. For we are going to a family member's funeral who was tragically taken at the age of 53 after suffering a massive heart attack while sitting calmly watching tv last week.

Whilst the passing of a friend or family member is tragic, it gets the family and friend network together. What is also tragic is that it takes the passing of a family member or friend for this to occur. So don't wait until then. Make time. Go out of your way. Accept invitations, even if you may be tired, or have to lug a child with a broken leg along. For you never know if this may be the last time you may see someone. Morbid? Possibly. Although not intended that way. Life does go on, even after death. Just take every opportunity you can and use it. Live it. Enjoy it. And cherish those memories.

Life is so very fragile. Don't take it for granted.

Ah what a week

I did actually try and post a few nights ago but blogger didn't let me for some strange reason. Wouldn't even let me sign in to my own blog! How's that for a sign?

Anyway, mini chick has a broken leg. A spiral fracture of the tibia. Poor little darling. So she has been in plaster for the last week. And I must say she is doing remarkably well all things considered for it can't be comfortable. Mini me is having a little bit of trouble with it though. The way she sees it mini chick is just getting lots more cuddles than she is, as I have to carry her most places due to her inability to walk. She did stand for a short period this morning but that's as far as the weight bearing has come. So I have one child very clingy for the obvious reason of diminished mobility and one other child very clingy for the reason of jealousy, and one other child very whingy because of teeth. Ah yes. Teeth. And eczema. Poor mini dude has had a bit of a rough trot with that. And he also has bilateral bronchiolitis which doesn't seem to be clearing up as quickly as I had hoped, so we have another review with the paed in a month or so and if he's still struggling then they'll start roiding him up. As you do.

Not much else has happened really. I have received marks for the three essays I did and I was quite disappointed with the results. That said I did have a lot on at the time, and I am notoriously hard on myself as well as being and unashamed perfectionist so I guess that isn't really all that surprising.

I'm currently working on the next three essays, all of which are due in around 2 weeks. So it's head down bum up and hopefully get them done on time and to a high standard. I know I can get them done, just want to make sure the standard is high enough.

I'll leave you with Angus's latest word. Dog. While looking at our dog Jake. Remind me to post a photo of him next time.....he's incredibly cute. The dog, and Angus.

I'm not

avoiding you. Truly. I know you're here. Whoever you are.

It's been another of those bastard weeks. When you go in to see your child when she wakes from a nap and she has blood coming out of her ear you worry. Burst eardrum. Double ear infection.

Lots of long nights.

Today back at daycare, just before leaving, standing on lounge room floor, nothing in sight, turns one way, ankle rolls another. And apparently it could be broken, xrays in the morning.

So I'm not neglecting you, all out there in cyberland, I'm just tending to the ever growing needs of my munchkins. Perhaps they will all be better from everything soon and I can get back into routine. Who knows. Till then though they are my top priority. Always will be. So if I'm scarce, don't take it personally, I'm just tending to the flock.

And so like the good shepherd I am, I'll get the flock out of here. Until next time. Hopefully less of a break than the last.

It happened.

Well, sort of. Last night the kids all went to bed at normal time, around 7ish. Mini dude had gone to bed a little earlier than this though. He was up again at 8.45 or so for a bottle, then again at 11.10pm. I did dream nappy change for Tabitha around 10ish.

EVERYONE slept until 5am. Everyone. Me included. I got 5 1/2 hours sleep IN A ROW!!!!!!!!!

And I have woken up this morning feeling like a new person. I was smiling, almost jovial, whereas usually I'm "get the hell away from me until I've had my coffee" kind of mood.

Such a small thing. 5 1/2 hours. In a row. I remember the days when if I got 5 1/2 hours I would be wrecked. Nope. I'm buzzed. Absolutely buzzed.

And so tonight I am going to repeat everything EXACTLY how I did it last night and see if it works again. Oooooh I am sooooo so hopeful. Cross everything for me!!!!

I have decided

that time is going quicker and quicker each day. And the older I get, the quicker time goes.

Today annoyed me. Why? Because I relied upon someone to do something they said they would do and they didn't do it, and it changed my whole day.

I was to pick up a jacket I had purchased from ebay. It was massively cheap. And a lovely little jacket for Lexi. I got an email this morning saying the person would leave it out for me and I could call past and pick it up. Fine, sounds good, so I bundled the kids into the car (after the mandatory 20 minute preparation, which of course involved at least one child crapping their nappy right as we were about to leave) and off we went to travel the 20 odd km to pick up the jacket.

So we arrive, I go up the driveway, and no jacket. Fanfrickingtastic. I was rapt. No. Really. And of course I had not brought the chick's phone number with me. So I leave a message jotted down on an envelope in the chick's letterbox, and off we go. And as we turn the corner Lexi says "where's my jacket?". Oh. Crap. Why the hell did I tell her we were going to get a jacket for her?

So I try to explain to her that the lady wasn't there and that we couldn't get her jacket, and the tone of voice in which she was responding to questions was becoming decidely shaky and on the verge of tears. And then they came. And I thought great. Sensational. I'm rapt. And I did tell her we were going to get her a jacket. So I said "would you like to go to the shops to get one then?" And blow me down if she didn't bloody well say yes. Crap.

So there we go, headed to Watergardens again. Now if you remember the last time I went to Watergardens I vowed never to return. And that was with someone else with me as well as the three kids. This time I was on my Pat Malone.

Driving through the carpark I suddenly realised it was Saturday. And oh yes it just gets better. So we cut four or fifty laps of the carpark til finally I find one and zip in. I get Lexi out, tell her to stand by the pram that I had previously removed from the boot (that is my way of ensuring she stays put and doesn't get into mischief - I ask her to hold the pram so when I put Angus in it doesn't move....even though I do have the brakes on....it keeps her there), and I get Angus out and whack him in the pram quite unceremoniously and he is most unimpressed because he was asleep, and then I get Tabitha out of the car and it is then that the scent hits me.

So I lock the car, nappy bag on arm, kids in tow, and we head for the parents room to remove the offending odour from Tabitha. And it is once I have made it to the safety of the parents room that I realise that the nappy bag is distinctly lacking in baby wipes. And the day just gets better. So I wet toilet paper and try and make do as best I can, with Tabitha quite unhappy about the whole deal, Lexi trying to get out, and Angus looking at me as though I have deprived him of the best sleep he has ever had.

Nappy done. Jacket time. Target o'clock because we have a voucher. Gotta love vouchers. So in we go to the kids section. Lexi decides on a jacket. It is pink and fluffy and has Dora the Explorer on it. Great. So she tries it on, she loves it, and I stupidly ask as I remove it from her "So is that the one you want?" And she says "no". Great. Okay, so tell me a colour. Black, pink, purple, green, something. "Green". Do you know how hard it is to find a green jacket in Target? I'll tell you. Impossible. We did however find an aqua coloured hoody top and some aqua cords and they were close enough. No jacket, and not what we intended on getting, but they will get worn so it's fine. Grabbed a couple more pairs of tracksuit pants and away we went.

Checkouts. Designed by bastards. Why? Lollies. Everywhere. Great if you're an adult and can zip through, absolutely horrendous if you are a mother with two children who live at lollie level. So a bag of jelly beans, two meltdowns and several monumentally bad farts from god knows who later and we were out of Target. I opened the jelly beans, gave the girls 2 each, and off we went in search of the car. We made it back, I bundled all the kids in, and away we went.

Tabitha fell straight to sleep. I wasn't going to argue with that. Angus talked a while and then fell asleep. Also good. Lexi didn't. She decided that five minutes before we arrived home was a good time to fall asleep, and so awoke upon our arrival home as though she had been asleep for hours. Not ideal. And Angus also decided that he had had enough. Tabitha I put into bed and she slept a further two hours. That is gold.

So that was my morning. Totally unprepared for the adventure we had, but we survived it, hurdles and all, and I am vowing, again, never to return to Watergardens.

It will happen.

One day. I'm sure it will. What, you ask? I will drop the kids at daycare in the morning and I won't receive a phone call to go and pick one of them up. I'm sure it will happen.

Today I kinda needed them all to stay there. I had two essays that were due over a week ago that I got extensions for, which took me to Monday, which then wasn't going to happen so I begged for extensions til today, which I luckily got.

So I was hoping when I dropped all the kids off this morning, as healthy as they have been for a while, that I would get the whole day.

The morning was spent doing my sport and the law essay, which I did, and completed, and am pretty happy with.

This afternoon was put aside for my doozy essay on international law and world politics. Yep. Sounds about as thrilling as it is. I started it at around half 12. The phone rang at 3. I pick the kids up at 5 usually. If all goes to plan. Which it usually doesn't. So I probably should say I always "intend" to pick the kids up at 5.

So what was the matter? Lexi was upset. Very very upset. And nobody could console her. So of course I went straight down there, thinking as I was driving there that it wasn't too bad, I could just pick Lexi up and then head on to Aldi, do the groceries, then come back around via the childcare centre and pick up the other two, albeit it a little early, but no biggie, at least I would have got something done.

Yeah. Nah.

I arrived at the centre and walked through the door to have Lexi literally run over to me, arms outstretched screaming "Mummy is here!!" which is of course wonderful to hear, there is nothing nicer than hearing your child loving seeing you. So I explained to her that she should grab her bag and we would go just us to the supermarket and then come back and get Tabitha and Angus. Nothing. So I started walking to the door. And she started crying. Very upset crying. "Nooooooooooooooooooo! You've forgotten Tabitha and Angus!!!!!"

Ok. Looks like that plan is foiled.

So I got the other two and bundled everyone into the car. I must admit I said very little on the way home. I was thinking about how the hell I was going to get this essay done, and wondering what on earth to do about the groceries, particularly considering I have all of half a dozen nappies in the house for the girls at this present time. Then the logic kicked in and I realised there were a couple in each of their daycare bags, plus a couple in the nappy bag, and we'd be right until tomorrow.

So got home, then had to spend time doing an online grocery order (which I really didn't want to have to do), got that submitted, then sat Lexi down and asked her why I had to pick her up early from daycare today. Her answer? "Because I'm a bit of a sook." Well there you go. Could have knocked me down with a feather.

At least she's honest.

And so now, at 10.11pm I have, I think, finished my essay. If it isn't good enough, well, shit happens. I had a lot going on. I'm a bit of a perfectionist though so I hate submitting stuff that isn't up to my standards. This time there really was no option. Soooo so much has happened and so much of my time has been absorbed doing things I simply did not anticipate I would need to do (not the least of which has been countless doctor's appointments for Angus). Couple that with worry, non sleepers, and all the rest of the everything, and it makes for not exactly ideal study conditions.

So I'm off to do the cover sheet and submit the essay, possibly have a gin and tonic, then hit the hay. I'm seriously exhausted.

Oh dear.

It has come to that. I just reread my last entry, and consequently edited it. Why? Because I realised that I had in fact written the exact same thing in the last entry. Why? God, because I haven't bloody slept enough that's why!!!!!! And how did I realise? Because I got a comment on the previous entry that referred to something that I had written in the last entry and thought how odd that they would refer to that if it was in a different post, so I went and looked and lo and behold I'm not all there.

So I can take this opportunity to tell you that I have children's songs coursing through my head at the rate of knots. Hey diddle diddle has been going pretty strongly, but I'm a little teapot seems to be my subconscious's favourite children's song.

Another random - I asked Tabitha if she wanted her nappy changed. "No thank you". Love it. "Are you ready to hop out of the bath?" "No thank you". Love it. Seriously love it. I am pretty fastidious when it comes to manners. I think there is no excuse for a lack of manners - all it takes it constant reinforcement. I just hate people saying "can I have this" without so much as a please. So every time the girls ask for something, if they don't say please I either prompt, or depending on the situation, just wait. And they get it. They really do.

I'm trying to do my essays but mini dude isn't comfortable. He had a five day course of penicillin but his ears are still hurting him. At first, before they diagnosed the double ear infection, I thought his pulling his ears was teething. This is so obviously not teething it is ridiculous. Poor baby. My poor poor baby. And he is SUCH a good kid. I kid you not, he does totally rock. My best so far (baby wise I mean, not kid wise, but you know what I mean).

Anyway, I had a point, said point is gone, so I'm offski again. Try to get some more essay done, and see what happens. If I do happen to repeat myself, please forgive me, I am very sleep deprived.

Some random things

Today I thought I would let you in on some of the random things that have happened or the kids have said that I haven't mentioned to this point, just as a little break in the proceedings so to speak. Some are hilarious, some are odd, and some are rather disgusting, but then again children can be now can't they?

Lexi likes to tell me about her bum. As you would. Some of the phrases we have heard of late are "mum, my bum, it STINKS" (and she wasn't wrong). The other day she excitedly came up to me and said "mummy, mummy, my bum, I've done farts, and wees AND poos!!" She was most proud.

Tabitha has also lately taken to advising me she has done a poo. It's fairly handy actually, although I must admit she doesn't really need to tell me....it is fairly obvious.....

I sneezed today. Tabitha said "Bless you". Lexi looked at me with a smile and said "you're a dag."

Lexi got a toy kitchen for her birthday, which she adores (yay!). First thing she said as she started playing with it? "Oh it's hot, I burned my finger." Wonder where she got that from..... She also made me a toy coffee this morning. Gotta love that kid. Tabitha is intent on feeding me for some reason, keeps bringing a spoon over and saying "want some?" whilst shoving the spoon in my mouth.

There were plenty more things I wanted to write here but I'm going to have to pop these children to bed soon so should flee. But I might do this again soon.......love the random things they do and say.

And another five days

has passed since my last post. And it feels like a moment. A lot has happened.

The xray was normal. Great news, means that 99% sure it is not hip dysplasia, which is a relief. However the problem is still there, we just have less of an idea as to what could be causing it. Friday we see the paediatrician and hopefully get a little more of an idea.

I should mention that although we are seeing the paediatrician about his hips, that is not the reason for which we were referred. It was his breathing. He has very noisy breathing, as did Tabitha. And when I took him back for a check up of the horrendous ear infections he had suffered, I was told that 99% sure the cause of it was tracheomalacia - a malformation of the trachea, the windpipe. His breathing noise is not caused by bronchiolitis (which is what Tabitha had been diagnosed with, repeatedly, and now looking at this I think perhaps erroneously) but by an inability of his windpipe to function as normal. Whereas in normal folks it is solid, in those with tracheomalacia it is flaccid and malleable, meaning that every time a breath is taken in or one is expelled, the skin literally falls over the air passage. Terrifying stuff really. So we find out for sure on Friday. Or not for sure. We may just get referred for more tests. It's fairly exhausting. 

Easter happened. And it was pretty good I must say. I'm allergic to chocolate so don't partake in the whole egg thing, but the girls eat chocolate (although they don't 'love' it like some kids, probably because they rarely get it poor things) and they adored seeing the easter bunny had visited. Lexi was fairly hesitant to emerge from her room upon seeing that someone had in fact eaten half the carrot and the three biscuits we had left out for the easter bunny. But slowly slowly she edged towards the table to see what the magical bunny had left her, and all was good. When she realised there were little eggs and chickies hidden throughout the toy room she was beside herself. And it wasn't the chocolate, as she really isn't a huge rap for it, it was the finding. "There's one!!!" came the cries from the shelves, "and another one!!!" from the toy sofas. Absolutely fabulous to watch. Tabitha was happy to collect all the eggs in a bowl, walking along with said bowl, eggs spilling out everywhere, but no matter, they were just more eggs to collect. And so easter was good. Very very good.

Then today, Anzac Day, is my baby Lexi's birthday. She was 3. Every day for about 4 months she wakes and almost before she says good morning, or wants breakfast, she says "It's my birthday today, no?". Wonderfully French sentence construction there. And so today I was able to say "it's your birthday, and the smile she gave me was enough to light up the entire planet.

I got her a few little things, some butterflies to decorate her room, some cookie cutters to make biscuits with mum, and a sand art kit too as she loves her arts and crafts, but her "main" present proved to be as successful with her as I had hoped it would be. See Lexi loves to cook. I could be making toast and she would want to help. She stirs ingredients in bowls, helps to measure things out, and just loves to 'create' in the kitchen. So I got her a toy kitchen. She adores it. I am rapt.

We had a family gathering today and she was able to play with her cousins and aunties and uncles and grandparents, as were the others, and it was a lovely day. This was coupled with the fact that for weeks she had said she wanted a bbq for her birthday, so I found a cheap bbq on gumtree and we did just that. We had a bbq for her birthday.

So my baby is 3. After many many months, I no longer have three under three. And whereas previously I thought I would feel some sense of immense relief knowing that that psychological block has been lifted, I find myself with a tear in my eye. For it is becoming ever more noticeable that my babies are growing up. At a rate that is simply not acceptable but is impossible to stop.

I have essays due. Two of them. Today. They are not done. It was only a few days ago that Angus settled enough to be happy for me to put him down for more than a half hour or so. So not a great deal has been achieved. I have emailed my lecturers to ask for extensions on the existing week long extensions that had been granted, and due to the easter break have not yet heard. But there is little I can do. I am aiming for Wednesday for completion of these essays, and really I can only do what I can do.

On a lighter note sleep deprivation will do strange things to you. Tabitha still doesn't sleep through. And so the other night whilst going in to change her nappy and give her a bottle I did as I do and I went back to bed. 5.30am or thereabouts the cry to get up occurred, so I dutifully dragged my weary bones from bed and picked Tabitha up and popped her on the sofa. She started whinging. Bottle? No. Still kind of asleep? No. What was it? I had no idea. Until I looked down and realised that when I had done the dream nappy change I had put both her legs into the one pant leg on her pyjamas. She literally couldn't move. Poor mini chick.

Four more days to find out what's happening with mini dude. Four days. And as time flies, these days will drag, because that is the way it goes. When it is something you look forward to it drags. When it is something that may well change your life, it drags more than a cart with no wheels.

I'm staying hopeful. There isn't a great deal more I can do. Day by day. Day by day. And there are so many people worse off in the world, I should be grateful. But I still worry. I'm a mum. That's what we do.

Has it really been

five days since I last wrote??

The days are long, the nights are longer, and each day at the moment is a struggle. People say sleep deprivation is torture. It is. That much is true. I am experiencing it, and have experienced it for the last almost 2 years. What is worse is when there is something wrong with your child or children. That is much worse. Much much worse. And even worse is when you don't know what it is that is wrong.

So I'm spending my nights tending to the various needs of the different kids, whether that be dream nappy changes, stopping them throwing themselves against a wall in the midst of a night terror, or simply cuddling because the pain of ear infection is so great, that's what I do. And when I'm not doing that I'm sitting here. Wondering. And waiting.

I am not a negative person. But at the moment I am struggling to find the positives. I love my children and they are my world. Definite positive. And they are great (most of the time). Definite positive. That's all I have. The rest is negative. Oh, except their daycare centre. MASSIVE positive. They love it there and I love them going there, the staff are fabulous and so caring, and it is just a lovely place for them to be.

But yep. That's me. I'm not myself. I think that's why I'm not writing much. Because I don't recognise the person that is coming through in the words.

I can only stay strong for so long. I think that time is up.

I haven't forgotten

about this blog. I have however had a bastard of a week.

A few weeks ago I noticed a clunk in mini dude's hip, so Tuesday was the day to take him to CHN just as a precautionary measure, get him checked out and measured and whatnot. And, as it would seem, find out that his skin folds are uneven and one leg is longer than the other. So doctor's appointment was scheduled for Wednesday, which is usually a daycare day for the three kids so I can get my uni work done.

So the next morning I drop the girls off, explain to the staff what's going on, then come home, do uni for an hour then head out to the doctor to have it confirmed that one leg is in fact an entire centimetre longer than the other. And to top it all off the rattly chest he has had for some time is still loitering so that will need checking out also. So referral for ultrasound and paediatrician taken away from the doctor and I drop mini dude off at daycare with the hopes that I'll at least have four hours to do some study in the afternoon.

I get home, have done maybe an hour and the phone rings. Lexi has a temp of 40.5, come and get her. So of course I race out the door, tear in to her room to see her all snuggled up with one of the staff members (which she is not usually likely to do), and boiling hot poor baby. As I pick her up the chick from Angus's room comes in and says she is glad she caught me because Angus hasn't settled since I dropped him off and he needs to go home too. So I figure may as well grab Tabitha considering I'm obviously not going to get anything done.

We get home, Panadol, early night. Early night that turns into incredibly restless night, about which I am not surprised. Tabitha also is more unsettled than usual, whether that is due to her feeding off Lexi's unsettledness or otherwise I have no idea. And so Thursday was a PJ day spent alternating Panadol and Nurofen to try and tame the temperature that kept rising. And we did have quite a relaxed day which was needed, although all of us sick with colds and Lexi quite unwell with fevers there was not a lot achieved. Fast forward to today. Morning was not terrifically eventful, but late morning came lethargy, general malaise, and Lexi having a nap for 2.5 hours when she doesn't usually have a day sleep at all. She had also had a nap the day before. Upon awakening her temp was 39.7. And I couldn't give her anything. So I bundled everyone into the car and off to the doctor we went, where we waited for some time, Tabitha ran around exploring, which was great to see as she usually just hangs off me, Angus chilled in the pram and Lexi just sat on my lap cuddling me telling me she felt hot and sick.

Tonsillitis. And a virus. Antibiotics. So I dragged the kids over to the chemist, got what we needed and some other bits and bobs we had run out of, back into the car, by which time it was 5pm, visited my uncle (I speak of the colonel, but he and I are so close he's like that honorary uncle you have) and came home to have some food. Lexi wasn't interested, which didn't surprise me, Tabitha had a good feed of some nuggets and chips (highly healthy of course), a few episodes of Play School and into bed they go. Angus didn't think he should though. He slept for perhaps half an hour then woke up quite unimpressed with the world. And remained that way for nearly an hour. In between this time I was actually able to hear a phenomenal song on American Idol with Hayley and Casey singing (if you can google it and listen I highly recommend it).

This morning I bit the bullet and emailed my lecturer to advise him that much as I was trying to avoid asking for an extension the events of the last few days have necessitated it, predominantly because I simply don't know how many more days the kids will be ill. So I have an extra week thank god.

And next Wednesday is mini dude's ultrasound with the paediatrician appointment the following Friday. I am hoping for the best but preparing for the worst. It doesn't really look great as it is quite a marked difference in leg lengths which usually indicates developmental dysplasia of the hip.

So we shall see. And hope.

A serious battle

of wills just took place. Me versus Tabitha.

Here's the thing. Tabitha is not a good eater. If you looked at her you would disagree, as she is my Botticelli cherub with Reubenesque features, yet she doesn't eat much at all. Lexi on the other hand would eat the equivalent of an adult male. Every day. Without fail. And doesn't put on a gram. She, like her father, is built somewhat like a bean. Not a broad bean, a string bean. Tabitha's the broad bean.

Anyway, Tabitha is very fussy with her food (again opposite to Lexi who would eat leather if it had sauce on it). Consequently she picks and pokes and often times just simply doesn't eat. There is not a huge amount that I can do about it. I have tried repeatedly beating myself up about it but funnily enough that doesn't actually achieve anything, so I settle for if she has a couple of mouthfuls every now and then (that I have stealthily hidden vegetables in) then we're in front.

Tonight I wasn't going to budge. As soon as she got in the car tonight she asked for a bottle. I said to her that she needed to eat some dinner first and then after dinner she could have a bottle. She kept asking. Over and over. Like a skipping CD (notice how I have replaced the broken record saying with skipping CD...I'm so with the times...) she asked over and over and over, and every time I had the same answer. So when we got home I made the girls dinner (Lexi's request of scrambled eggs, nothing flash, and I was happy to oblige because it's quick and easy and a nice little protein hit for them). I got them both a drink and sat them down at the table with a little fork each, tiny squirt of tomato sauce (nice little potassium booster there) and Robert's your father's brother (or Bob's your uncle), dinner is served.

But no. Tabitha did not want dinner. She wanted a bottle. She obviously really wanted a bottle. I mean really. Vocally. And so when I reiterated that which I had said earlier, which was "no", she proceeded to throw herself onto the ground screaming. Oh. Kay. As you do. So I let her. And I repeated "you can have a bottle after you eat dinner". She screamed. Bloodcurdling. Then "I WANT A BOTTLE". Hmmm. Firstly, no please. Big no no for mummy manners stickler. Secondly, um, no. Not when you ask like that in that tone. And thirdly, yep, nope, you didn't eat your dinner.

So we continued on. And the squealing commenced, interspersed with screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing herself on the ground, stamping feet, pummeling fists, crying, sobbing, screaming, yelling. You get the gist. This went on for some time. After about five or six minutes I weakened ever so slightly. One bite of dinner. That's all. Then she could have a bottle. Ah and then the screaming got louder. I told her it was very simple - one bite of dinner and she could have a bottle. To and fro, to and fro, to and fro.

And then it happened. She settled down. We made eye contact. No words were spoken. And she stood up and walked over to the table and looked at her plate. I pretended not to watch, and was talking to Lexi about the starfish she was playing with. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Tabitha climb up onto her seat, sit, look around, and gingerly pick up a piece of egg and pop it into her mouth. And she didn't just have one bite, she sat there and ate the whole plate.

And my god I feel like I won the bloody lottery.

Mum - 1. Tabitha - 0. But she ate dinner. I still can't believe it. Senbloodysational.

And that really takes precedence over everything else that happened. Takes precedence over the fact that I got a good schlack of one of my essays done. Takes precedence over the fact that I had to have the "don't put sand down your nappy" talk with Lexi. It really just made my day.

Smiling smiling. It's the little things.

Mum,

you have a big bum. Oh yes, they are the words you long to hear your 2 year old say. I can't begin to describe the feelings that went through my mind when she said that. I was, at the time, crouched on the floor playing with mini dude, with my butt unceremoniously wagging in the air, making it look ever bigger, but it's always comforting to hear those words 'out of the mouths of babes'.

We had a PJ day today. Everyone stayed in pjs all day. I did have a shower this morning (one thing I do try and do every day just to retain sanity) however was slothing in "house clothes". I think it's nice to do every now and then. The girls certainly seem to get a kick out of it. We did a trial run of Lexi's birthday cake today - a strawberry cake. And I'm an idiot. Because I tried a piece. Ah well, it was nice, but the mix had a half cup of milk in it and since having Angus I just can't seem to handle any milk at all, whereas before I could have a teensy bit, as in if it were in a cake in the proportions of the cake we made today it would be fine. No longer though. Lesson learned. And I will no doubt stuff up again, cos I do. You do tend to forget things like that. When it isn't outwardly evident at first glance (even if you have made it yourself) that there is dairy in something, you eat it, enjoy it, then hours later realise what it is that you have done and wait for the lactose intolerance to wreak its havoc upon your unsuspecting body, and then a few hours later, and a few kilos lighter, you vow never to do it again. But you will. Cos you do.

Do you ever have days when it doesn't matter how many times you say something it falls on deaf ears?? Well, today was one of those. And the thing is the things I am saying are not purely for the joy of depriving the kids of joy (not that that is a joy but you know what I mean) but to protect them. Say for example if I am getting the cake out of the oven and ask them to stand back. I ask them this so they don't get burned - not to deprive them of the joy of seeing a cake come out of the oven (joy is the word of the day in case you hadn't realised). So yes, it was one of those days.

We have school tomorrow (thank god) and that means I can get the house cleaned up (hopefully in the first hour or so after dropping the kids off) and then get stuck into these bloody essays. I managed to get the first one in, albeit working under extremely ordinary circumstances what with being sick as a bloody dog and all. But it got submitted, and hopefully will pass and even do ok. We shall see I guess. The next couple are not quite so simple and I will need all the time I can get. So I'm going to try and focus. Doesn't help that I forgot to order coffee in my bloody online shopping order which arrived this morning. AND it arrived at 8am. On the dot. Great you say? Well no, not really. I had requested the 9-11 time slot. And when I mentioned this to Mr Delivery Man (who, coincidentally, did not speak English terrifically well) his reply was "I came early". Typical male I guess.

Anyway, the shopping arrived, that was good, I could then bake. And make myself sick. Sensational.

Hmmm, not exactly positive so far is it.....let's change that shall we. How. Hmm. Tabitha was wanting cuddles and repeatedly saying "my turn" while standing in front of me. Lexi then saw this and tried to jump in. I said to her "no darling, Tabitha needs some time too, you had lovely cuddles with mummy before, it's Tabitha's turn now". Lexi's reply? "But I want lovely cuddles now!" Ah so cute.

Angus has two teeth. And more on the way. He's been not very happy today, wrenching at his little ears and generally pretty unhappy with the world. I wouldn't be surprised if more teeth surface in the next week or two. Or month. That's the problem with teeth. They can teeth for what seems like an eternity before one shows up. And even then the little bastards can go back down again. Brutal. I maintain babies should be born with all their teeth.

I should really go to bed. Angus is obviously going to sleep through his 10pm feed, given that it is 10.30pm. Athough what's the bet that as soon as I lie down he wakes up..... them's the breaks hey. And if you assume they will wake up that's when they don't. I have mentioned assumptions on several occasions....

So for now I might try and get at least half a zed and see how I go.

3.52am

seems to be the time of choice for Angus to wake up and let the world know he knows how to make sound. It's been the exact same time the last few mornings. And yes, it is a bit tiring. He isn't crying, so I should be happy about that, but holy crap he is loud. I mean loud. By far the loudest of all the kids so far. SUCH a strong set of lungs. I am going by the theory that because I had steroids at 27 weeks when I first went into labour, his lungs are extra developed and he's trying to show me this. And the rest of the world of course, because there has to be at least one or two families in the street that can hear his bellows at 3.52am.

I had my ultrasound a few days ago. What I did discover is that I have very photogenic organs. And they all look perfect. So whilst I have not found exactly what is wrong, because of how I was feeling I had a barrage of tests which have shown me that my tired and weary 37 year old body is absolutely fighting fit, which whilst I'm still a bit ill, is actually pretty reassuring to know. I accidentally had a full physical and got a clean bill of health (except for the whole still being sick thing of course). Not sure where to go from here though. I am definitely feeling better than I have been, however still have some niggling nasties to annoy me. Just hoping that time will do the thing it is supposed to and 'heal all wounds'.

We've been doing a bit of cooking lately. As you know Lexi does love to cook, and now Tabitha has got into the act. They drag a chair across to the kitchen bench and have a bowl and spoon, waiting patiently for something to be placed in said bowl so that they can "mix please". Yesterday was hilarious though. Lexi had her bowl and spoon, but Tabitha had not. Tabitha climbed up onto the chair that Lexi had brought over and started mixing Lexi's mock cake mix. Lexi was not happy, for the mock cake was hers to mix, not Tabitha's, so there were tears, there was Lexi attempting to remove Tabitha from the chair, in a less than gracious manner, so I quickly jumped to attention and got Tabitha her own bowl, spoon and chair, so that both girls could mock mix their mock cake together. Ah yes the things we do.

Angus crawled yesterday. Well, I'm claiming it as a crawl anyway. One arm, one leg, did the crawl action. He's been rocking back and forth for such a long time, I can literally watch him for hours thinking he'll go that next step, and he doesn't. He either rolls over or just plops onto the ground, usually with a bit of a thud and some tears to follow. But yesterday he did keep going, not for long, but long enough that, as I said, I can claim a crawl. Will be interesting to see if he does this again today or has a few days to recover from what must have been something completely different experience wise for him.

Watching a day in the life of a baby does seem quite boring - they don't really do a lot. But if you think about it, for them they are doing heaps. They are using muscles they have never used, they are discovering ways to use their body (and voice as the case may be) that prior to then they simply never knew existed. They are finding out that a soft toy green sheep is a lot nicer to cuddle than a shoe (or perhaps not, depending upon the child - all mine seem to have a fascination with shoes). And each day there is one little thing that they do that they haven't done the day before. It may be just a way they have reached towards something, or balancing on toes instead of on knees, but their learning curve is an exponential wave of growth. And there will be more.

The same goes with toddlers and little kidlets. Every day they learn more. They are little sponges. The girls will sit and watch play school and each day they'll be a bit more involved, copying the moves the presenters do when dancing, repeating their words. Tabitha does the Hokey Pokey with the best of them, and yesterday I smiled all over when I listened to her watching a 'cowboy' episode and let out a little "yeeeeehaaaaaa". Lexi seems to greatly enjoy singing along with them, although sadly she does not possess an angelic singing voice. But she tries.

I just love watching them grow. It is heartwarming. And I can't wait for them to get just that tiny little bit older so I can say to them "mummy needs sleep you aren't allowed out of bed before 7am". In the most loving way of course.

It's amazing

how much we take for granted. And I don't have my mummy hat on here, I have my "me" hat on. The main thing I'm talking about is health. We assume that we will wake up in the morning, whatever time that may be (and for me it is around 4.50am as Angus hasn't quite grasped the whole daylight savings concept) and will be able to carry out our duties, motherly or otherwise, and get through the day.

The last three days that hasn't happened. I haven't been able to. I started vomiting three days ago and since then just went downhill to the point where I was sure I was having a heart attack. The ECG I got yesterday ensured I wasn't, and the chest xray also came back clear, however the pain remained, and I was physically unable to do pretty well anything.

I now have some pretty full on painkillers which have allowed me to function this afternoon and this evening, albeit with a very fuzzy glow, but functioning I am. And tomorrow the ultrasound will let me know if there is anything to really worry about.

I'm not dwelling on the whole being sick thing, I hate being sick, and I hate not being able to do the things that I am used to doing every day, however menial or mundane they may be. I just hate feeling as though I'm letting my kids down. It does make you realise your own mortality though, when you have something like this happen.

I'm thankful to friends and family for helping me when I really needed it. Like really needed it. I'm not one to ask for help as a general rule, unless there is no other alternative. I don't know why. I think that in my mind I feel as though to ask for help is a sign of weakness. But thinking about it like that I don't understand why I actually feel that way. Perhaps I never will.

Anyway, I guess I just popped on here to say I'm still here, a little worse for wear, but still here, and hoping that tomorrow may just shed some light upon the whole situation.

I will leave you with a Tabitha moment. It was cold the other night so I asked her, while she was in bed, if she wanted socks. She said yes. So I put socks on her, gave her a kiss goodnight, then left. I then heard repeated cries of mummy mummy mummy. Fearing she had hurt herself I rushed in, only to find her sitting upright in bed. "What is it Tabitha?" I said. "I want shoes." Makes sense I guess.

Why is it

that on nights when you know you need to be up early in the morning the kids seem more unsettled? Is it because they want to see you under pressure and see how well you hold up? Or perhaps they sense that you are either anxious, or worried that you won't sleep, and all these emotions rub off on them. I am a bit of a believer in kids feeding off your mood. Much as I believe that it doesn't stop me losing my cool every now and then. It's those times you then need to just walk away, let the kid cry for a couple of minutes, while you breathe, distance yourself, lose the angst, walk back in and start over.

I did manage to get just under an hour's sleep last night, so I guess it could have been worse. It could have been no sleep. All it means is that today I am ferreting around in the fridge and traipsing a path back and forth between the sofa and the kettle. I seem to eat more when I'm exhausted. It isn't that I'm hungry, it is more that I need to be doing something (preferably something that requires little to no brain power) but a something that is sufficient to keep me awake. Eating works well because your body will rarely let you munch on a dry biscuit then fall into deep sleep halfway through. See? Logical isn't it? Bet you wonder why you didn't think of that.

The whole brain dead kind of vegetative state I find myself in today is not terrifically conducive to anything productive. I Have three essays due, that I really need to get stuck into, however I fear today is not the day to have that occur, lest I wish to read them tomorrow to find that instead of writing an indepth analysis of human rights and their relationship to anti-terrorism laws I have written my shopping list, with a reference to Kofi Annan, or some double double name like Boutros Boutros. Writing in a state of unsleep is quite interesting. For poetry. Or novels. Not so much for legal essays.

Maybe I should write a poem........ I think it would start something like this......

Eyelids falling like overripe fruit from a tree
Is there any coke in the fridge, or perhaps red bull?
Thank heavens for leftover Noodle Box for I shall not cook tonight.
What time does Play School start?

So you see, the genius, it just flows. Amazing what the brain can do without any sleep. And tomorrow I'll read this and say some form of what the hell is that and then go on as if today never happened.

Better go my coffee is getting cold, and my cheese and crackers are being eyed off by middle daughter so i had better scoff them before she makes it to the plate......

I'm thinking

that I have had enough of a break. Life sometimes gets on top of you. Not always in a bad way. Sometimes just in a way that makes you say Okay I'm just going to stop everything for a while and just breathe.

So I breathed.

And I feel better now.

Talk to you soon.......

I'm going to take a break

Life is full of drama. There is the drama that happens just from every day goings on, but there is also the drama that others create.

I am at a point in my life where I don't need that extra drama. I'm big enough and ugly enough to call a spade a spade and if something doesn't seem kosher I will say so. I'm also not willing to compromise my beliefs, nor am I willing to go against my 'gut feeling', because it has got me through 37 years pretty damn well and I trust it.

For the most part life ticks on, people come and people go. Other times the clock stops for a bit, regroups, then winds itself up to start again.

I need some time to stop, regroup, wind myself up and start again. So I'm taking it. I'm not sure how long I'll be on hiatus. Might be a day, might be a week, might be a month.

But rest assured I will be back.

You know

your life is busy when you think you blogged yesterday but it was in fact the day before. Aka now. And the other day. And the other day. And it gets worse when you are sure there are things that you have said but you can't possibly have said them because they happened yesterday and even though you are sure you blogged yesterday the blog tells you that it was in fact the day before so the blog you thought you blogged was nonblogged.

Do you reckon I used blog enough in that sentence?

I've been busy. It happens. Actually it happens most days. No, strike that, every day. And by busy I don't mean I was off running errands and drafting documents for the prince what's his head's visit or anything. It was nothing so (un)thrilling. It was nappies, a few more nappies, several tantrums, a couple of teething issues, a few food refusals, many repeats of the words "no" and "why", flying sausage across the room, Angus's under high chairs and the like.

The kids are funny. Funny ha ha and funny odd.  A nice mix of the two. Lexi is amazing. Such an independent. Must do everything herself. In addition to choosing her own outfits now she must put them on herself. Never before has dressing taken so long. But she gets there. In the end.

Tabitha, well, my precious little Tabitha. She of the boycotted daysleep now falls asleep in random places literally every day. So I, being the good mother I am, take a photograph. Every time. I'm going to make an album. "Tabitha's random nap places". It'll be a great photo board at her 21st.

Angus is doing baby led weaning. For those that don't know it's basically giving mini dude everything you eat. Sort of. I cut food into sticks, soft boiled so he can handle it, and I put things on his tray and he just has what he wants. His favourite so far by a landslide is cucumber. I think this is a combination of the fact that it remains solid while he picks it up and the fact that it is cool on his little teething gums. So kind of like a teether with substance.

There is not a huge amount else going on. Lexi had her first night last night where she didn't have a night terror. I was up til midnight anyway, just waiting. Sure it would happen. It didn't. Tonight wasn't so lucky, but it was much less severe than usual. So hopefully the cycle is starting to break. I have been waking her for weeks now as that is the recommendation - break the sleep pattern so that they don't have the terror. I'm not 100% sure if it works, but judging by the diminishing effects I would say that yes, it does. She still has them (except for last night) but they are less violent (mostly - the other night she was literally climbing the wall, several nights previous she tried to throw herself off the bed, but that is nothing unusual, I'm always there to catch her). Tonight was "better" if you can say that.

I was going to say a few things, god only knows what they were. I should be in bed. Lexi last stirred quite some time ago. Angus too. Tabitha hasn't. Yet. But she will. Because she does. Always. Without fail. I can literally count on one hand the number of times she has slept through. Since birth. Actually, two hands. Let's be fair, she did sleep through for the few nights before Angus was born.

So much as I would love to have some wonderful antics and tales to recall, I have no recollection of anything that has happened in the last two days because, surprise surprise, I'm absolutely buggered. But daycare tomorrow and Thursday. Essays will get started, and hopefully a good schlack of it, and possibly even a nap. Who knows. The possibilities are endless.

And the kids will hopefully have fun. Let's just hope that mini chick, aka Tabitha, starts to feel a bit more comfortable. Lexi loves it, they love her, Angus loves it, they love him. Tabitha, well, I love her to bits. She's still finding her feet though. She'll get there. I'm sure she will. My tough little mini chick.

6 months ago

today I was in labour. Again. And awaiting Angus's arrival.

I'm not sure if I have told the full story, but when I was pregnant with Angus I started getting contractions at 26 weeks. I had my first labour stopped at 27 weeks with a short stay in hospital following. The second labour occurred at 31 weeks, the third at 32 weeks, each of them stopped, and each requiring just that little bit longer in hospital.

At around 34 weeks, perhaps a little earlier, the contractions stopped. Good thing? Not particularly, because they had stopped due to Angus turning and lying transverse (sideways). He was then given two weeks to get his act together and get head down or they would attempt to turn him. Just under two weeks later the contractions started again, so I (accurately) assumed that he had moved back into position.

I had pretty well assumed that, due to all these early labours, I would go early. Lexi was born at 38+2, Tabitha I went into labour at 36+6 and she was born at 37, and with Angus, as mentioned, I assumed it would be very early. I think you may recall my comments about assuming.....

39 weeks, and there you go. Welcome to the world little Angus.

And now he is 6 months old. And Lexi is nearly 3. And Tabitha is nearly 2.

And I am constantly amazed by them. Every minute of every day. Today marked the cessation of Lexi answering "no" to every question. She now answers "why" which I guess is a step up isn't it? You would think.....

I'm pretty tired today, another another another dodgy night. Lexi woke up screaming blue murder at 1.30am and woke the entire house (and I'm tipping several neighbours). Sleep visited them by 2.15am, then 3.30am marked the arrival of Tabitha redecorating her bed, floor and self with vomit.

One of the things I have learned in my years of parenting is to always have two things handy overnight. A change of clothes and a change of bedding. And towels. Because you just never know when you are going to need it and the last thing you want to be doing is ferreting around in the middle of the night trying to locate the correct sized fitted sheet and a replacement doona. Luckily my anal retentiveness in this matter ensured an expediatory bed change, however it did not assist in the 'get back to sleep Tabitha' quest, and she was "up" from that time. Me, I was simply counting down the minutes til the grocery man arrived with the Red Bull that I had ordered yesterday (along with some other groceries of course). It's funny you know, I ticked and unticked the Red Bull so many times. I keep saying I don't need it, which of course I don't, but it does help a bit when I have been up all night. Even if it had no effects whatsoever, the psychological part of the equation is that I BELIEVE it does have those properties, and that's enough. Just like if you feed peopled drinks all night and tell them they are alcoholic they will get "drunk". The mind is a pretty powerful thing. Placebos work the same way. In some instances they do work, because the brain has immense power to control the body. Many physical conditions are merely manifestations of the psychological state. That's my deep thought for the day.

Shallow thought? I vacuumed (again) today and pulled the chair out from the table to vacuum underneath it. I have only recently started doing this. I was sweeping up and someone said to me "why don't you pull the chairs out from the table?" as I was weaving in and out of the chair legs. And to be 100% honest with you, the thought had never even crossed my mind. So I tried it today with the vacuuming, because I had forgotten about it until now. You know, it does make it easier.

Angus is rolling around on the floor looking like an intoxicated frog, flailing around looking as though any moment he will leap forwards and just crawl. Lexi is lying on the floor watching tv, looking at a clock (Which she has in her hands, wondering why I can't put it up on the wall, when I explained to her that I need a hook and will get it on Wednesday so instead she has decided to just hold it all day, while asking for apple juice), and Tabitha has randomly fallen asleep beside the sofa. As you do. And I vacuumed around her. As you do.

I might have a coffee. Ooooh actually no, I won't, I have Red Bull, might pop another of those bad boys.....

It is possible

that I am not the most tolerant person in the world. However it constantly amazes me the stupidity of some people. I'm not talking about poor folk who are unfortunate enough to have learning difficulties or those who possess perhaps lower intelligence than the average Joe, I'm talking about people who simply don't think before they speak.

Most of us have thoughts and feelings that, should they be made public, we would be either ridiculed for or shot down for. It is normal to have these thoughts, I think, because we as humans are not perfect. It is not, I believe, normal to blurt said feelings and thoughts out for all and sundry to hear, or read as the case may be.

There is a massive difference between an opinion and a judgment. An opinion expresses one's feelings about a specific topic. A judgment takes a definitive side and denounces any other.

What is possibly the most frustrating situation is when someone is judgmental without having the full facts behind their comment. Let's take a simple example shall we? Let's say my opinion is that poached fish is much nicer than fried fish. That is my opinion and I'm entitled to it. Judgmental side would say I don't know how anyone could poach fish when obviously fried fish is the best. Uninformed judgmental side is someone who has never before eaten fish, has watched an episode of Dr Phil that said poached fish is evil, and then professes to the world that they can not believe anyone would eat poached fish because it is so evil.

Am I getting my point across?

Yes, something happened today. No, I will not go into details. Those who are reading this that were a party to the whole debacle will understand 100% what I am saying.

It just astounds me that people would be so narrow minded as to think that they can get away with basically chastising anyone for doing something that they believe is not right, particularly when they have absolutely no knowledge on the circumstances, have done zero research, and are going purely on hearsay.

That's enough of that for now.

I learnt something today. If you add asparagus to egg and bacon pie it will make your children fart. A lot.

I didn't do

what I was supposed to do today. I had said to myself that with all three kids at "school" I would spend that time studying, which is why I put them into daycare in the first place. But I really did minimal study today. Why? Well, my theory is this. My mind works clearer when my surrounds are clear. I still had things to unpack, and there was still one room in particular (which will be Angus's room when he moves out of my room) that was literally just full of crap. Not crap. Clothes. And things that hadn't been sorted through. So today, instead of studying, I cleaned up. And my god did I clean up. Now, every room (save for my room which I need to get the walk in robe sorted out) is done. And that is a huge thing. What a difference it makes too. I also got some decorations for all the rooms and put those up and the girls just love them. Angus is a little too little to appreciate it right now, but I know he'll like it once he gets old enough to work out what on earth is going on.

I'm a bit tired today. Actually I'm pretty well always a bit tired. I should sleep when the kids sleep, but to be honest, the end of the day is my time. Today, yes, the kids weren't here so theoretically I should have had more than enough me time. I didn't though, because I spent the first two hours at the shops getting things I needed, the next half hour cleaning up, the next half hour trying to sort out things on the phone that needed sorting out, the next hour cleaning, the next half hour on the phone yet again trying to sort out things that really should have been able to be done on the internet yet due to the inability of the website to cope with the incredibly demanding requests I put in (oh wow I used a credit card, holy crap, how on earth are we going to cope with this, it has never happened before), I ended up spending time doing that. Then cleaning. Then a bit more. And then it was time to pick the kids up. The day flew, and by the end of it I was absolutely knackered.

Tomorrow I will attempt to have all three kids at daycare again for the whole day. Angus did his first ever full day today, and he did brilliantly, so tomorrow is his "how do I back up" day to see if he can do the two in a row thing. Lexi had a great day, did really well. Tabitha, well, um, yep. I go minute by minute thinking I should keep her there for her own good (because it really would do her good in the long run) or take her home with me (because after all the sole reason I have them in there is to give me time to study and study with one is a hell of a lot easier than study with three, although study with none is much easier than study with one so I'm not really sure). Hmmm. Decisions decisions.

I should eat more fish. And I really want to try a truffle. Not the chocolate type, those big weird shaped brown things you see on all the cooking shows. And they rave about them. Something shocking. I want to try it. I want to experience the flavour. But I don't want to pay for it. Wonder how I'll manage that.....

And yet again I find myself in the situation of thinking what the hell was I going to say. This, whoever might be reading, is what happens when you have three children under the age of three. You have the best intentions, always. Your intentions are always stunted in their infancy, not by ill-meaning people or mini people, but by mini people who just want to be with you, talk to you, play with you, cuddle you, share a laugh with you, even though you have no idea about what they are laughing. Or the after effects....the sleep deprivation, the curse of the mother, the no full night's sleep. And pregnancy brain. Or not. Unpregnancy brain. My theory is that pregnancy brain does not leave when the child does. It leaves only when the child leaves home. So brace yourselves chicks, a fair way to go yet.....

Tomorrow will be interesting. I have done everything I wanted to do around the house, even down to scrubbing the showers and toilets and organising the cupboards, so tomorrow will be the first day that I have to myself. To study. To do things for me. Without children here. And I'm not sure how I'll cope. Sounds silly? Nope. Not at all. Every day I have spent with my babies, save for those times I was in hospital having other babies, and save for the last few weeks when they have had their little stays at "school", but even then I still had one baby. Today was the first fully non-childless day, and I was too busy to let it sink in. But I'm tipping it will tomorrow. And to be honest with you I think I'll cry. Why? Because they are my babies. And I feel an intense need to be with them. Even when they are being little bastards. Ooooooh harsh? Nope. They can be. Veritable little bastards. Doesn't stop me loving them though. Not for a second.

So tomorrow. Yep. Will be interesting. Isn't as though I have nothing to do - the whole point is study. And study I will do. Three essays must be done and I have about 3 weeks to do them, so I can certainly use the time, that's for sure.

Just don't be surprised if a small (or even substantial) portion of tomorrow is spent away from study, wondering what my babies are doing and if they are okay.

For no matter what we do, no matter where our little ones are, they are in our hearts and never out of our thoughts. Ever.

It is one thing

to feel loved by your family. They are your family and no matter what happens odds are they will love you and you will feel loved.

It is another thing entirely to feel loved by your friends. In particular it is moving when said friends do something so out of the blue, so thoughtful, that you are literally lost for words. That happened today.

I have many 'groups' of friends, some in real life, some in the online world. Some I am friends with because of shared interests, others I am friends with because of sharing pregnancy and baby's birthdays/months with. The latter group, those with whom I became friends purely because I was pregnant with Angus at the same time they were pregnant with their respective little bubbies, surprised me today. One of these lovely ladies, who since moving I now live only a few minutes down the road from, popped around today with two envelopes, addressed to me. One was a voucher for a haircut, and the other a voucher for a pamper session at the day spa. Both things that I am usually hesitant to do for myself because my needs usually come last, but both things that I both need and want. And I was literally speechless, and for me that is really saying something.

What beautiful people that, knowing that things have been a little rough lately (to say the least), decided that I needed something to spoil myself.

I still can't believe that these sensational chicks, most of whom I have never physically met, would go to so much trouble to organise this for me because they thought that I would like it, I needed it, and in their words that I "deserved" it. Mindblowing. Truly mindblowing. And at the same time so incredibly heartwarming.

What have I done to deserve such a generous gift? The thought that went into it, the organisation required that so many chickies all put in to make it happen. They did that for me. For little old me. And it isn't even my birthday.

I am truly such a lucky person to have friends like this. I still just cannot find the words.

Ladies, thank you. From the bottom of my heart and the very depth of my being. Thank you.

There is no feeling

quite like the feeling you get when you have a pimple up your nose. It is itchy, scratchy, swollen, sneezy, aggravated and incredibly annoying. And would be the size of a pin head. How can something so small cause so much grief? I think it all has to do with where the small thing is placed. A pimple this size on your face, while frustrating and unsightly, is far less disturbing, and it will go away. The problem with internal nasal pimples is the fact that the mere act of breathing seems to aggravate them, and if you, like me, have the remnants of a cold, well, that is just asking for trouble. And it makes you sneeze more. And feel as though your nose is the size of a house. Which is isn't.

You know I started typing this over three hours ago. At this rate it will take me a week to write a full post. Things they are ahappening. Actually not things. Just poo. Lots of poo. It's always terrifying if the kids have a "day off" from pooing because the aftermath is enough to scare the bejesus out of the hardest of men. And they wouldn't cope anyway. Boys and nappies, well, they can talk the talk but they can't walk the walk.

So often these days I start to say something and then halfway through forget completely what the point was. Proof of this is the fact that I have no idea what I was saying here, so on that note I'm going to remove the magna doodle from my back (thank you Lexi), put the contents of my purse back where they belong (thank you Tabitha) and throw away the remnants of paper that are strewn all over the lounge room floor (thank you Angus).

They say time flies

when you're having fun. And they're right, whoever "they" may be. You get swept up in the moment, laughs and fun turn into more laughs and more fun and before you know it the event has passed and you are sitting reminiscing over what a fabulous time it was.

Conversely, it should be said that time drags when you are not having fun. The proof of this is in the pudding. This last week of all three children and myself being sick has actually gone for a year and a half. However there is light at the end of the tunnel, and no, that light is not a train. For the constant stream of goobies that has frequented the nose of all of the munchkins seems to be running a little drier than previously, the coughing is more spasmodic and less continuous, and there are far more smiles than frowns, which is refreshing to see.

This morning marked the end of a very long phase of our lives. For the past three months Tabitha has been teething. The canines have been sitting perilously close to the edge of her gums for quite some time, causing countless sleepless nights, and much discomfort and pain. Last night was the veritable straw that broke the camel's back, my feeling a complete nervous breakdown threaten to shut me down around 2.30am. Ridiculous as it may seem, the fact that another of my friends was also up at that time (ah the beauty of facebook) made it okay. Not okay, but okay. And not that I want others to be suffering sleeplessness as well, but it made me feel as though I wasn't the only one in the world going through it. So I toddled off to the screams again with a slightly renewed level of energy.

Today mini chick was horrid. I mean evil horrid. Like possessed horrid. Screams like the screams of the damned, chordal in nature, piercing to the point that windows hundreds of kilometres away had to jam themselves harder up against their frames to avoid shattering. That kind of thing. And clingy. Very very clingy. That said we were in a strange environment amongst people with whom she is not terribly familiar, although some more so than others, and she just wasn't feeling the best. Thankfully she slept on the way home, and later that afternoon it seemed as though a switch went off, and there you go. Tabitha was back. And knowing that which I know and have known over the past three months my first thought was to check her gums. And lo and behold I was right. I was bloody well right. There, poking through the gums like the first new shoots of spring, were two tiny little white dots. The sharp, nasty, bastardish tips of the canine teeth. So that marks the four having finally come through.

God help me when the two year old molars come in....I think I'm going to need an exorcist.....

4 hours

That's how much time I had with no children today. I dropped the kids off at 8.30am, all of them, and headed back home. The plasterer arrived at 9.05am while I was vacuuming. I let him in, had a chat to the building blokes about the crack in the garage floor and about the price of fish generally, and then went back to it. By 10am I had vacuumed the house, cleaned both bathrooms and toilets, made the beds and done 2 loads of washing. Unbelievable. So then I decided to have a coffee and net surf for a while, as you do. Then the mailman arrived which resulted in my receiving a letter that I had been waiting for which necessitated my leaving immediately in order to get some things sorted out asap due to the contents of said letter, so I did that, then went to Bunnings, picked up some numbers for the letterbox (I have been numberless till now), perused the garden centre (oh how I could stay there forever and wish somebody would give me a very large giftcard) and left (several dollars poorer) a short while later armed with pink rosemary, thyme, coriander, sweet basil and parsley seedlings, as well as a wonderful selection of vegetable seeds.

Off to pick up master Angus, straight home as he decided that as soon as he sat in the car seat it was a perfect time to fill his pants, we got home in time to finish that off, change him, he decided sleep was on the cards, so I changed the washing over, did the dishes, folded some clothes, put on another load of washing, had another coffee, then realised I still needed some things for lunch tomorrow so worked out what it was I needed then realised I wasn't exactly sure if I did need that because I wasn't sure if the guests ate what I was making, so texted a while before thinking bugger it I'll call so I did and found out all was good, then Angus woke up, had a feed, I whacked him in the car and we went to the post office to post some things, then to the supermarket where I discovered what I had intended to make was not actually readily available so had to think of something else which I did and hoped it would be okay, got those things, and some soft drink, we left there and ended up at the daycare centre at 5. On the dot.

Not a wonderful pickup for miss Tabitha today. Tears straight away, and not even the where's Angus ruse worked. Nor did the where's Lexi suggestion. It was a "let's throw ourself on the ground and go limp" kind of day. So we dealt with that, went in to get Lexi to discover her elbow deep in red playdough (oh the joys) and grabbed bags signed books and off we went to the car, where some inconsiderate woman opened her door onto my door RIGHT there, as I was putting Angus in there. I walked around the other side and said "you do realise you have just opened your door onto mine and marked it don't you?". Oh sorry she says and then proceeds to jabber on to her carmate in some unknown language. The entire side of her car was destroyed, as though she had come to loggerheads with a fence and it had won. Not surprising really. Careless as. Not impressed either. Not at all.

So kids in car, Tabitha still sooking away, Lexi telling me she wanted her drink and her hands were dirty, Angus doing his little grunts and squeals, and me asking everyone how their day was. Asking what was for lunch brought the same answer as every day "rice". God knows why Lexi believes they have rice for lunch every day. Anyway, when I asked her what she wanted for dinner the answer was rice. Hmm. We did actually have that last night on request. So I said no, we'll have something different tonight, so she decided upon eggies. And so off we went and as we all yelled out "bye school" and turned the corner, Lexi said to me "I love you so much mummy". And I melted.

The rest of the evening was the rest of the evening. I'm still smiling from Lexi's words.

I had more I was going to say but to be honest with you the internet is doing my head in and my toes are cold and I really can't remember. I'm thinking I should probably go to sleep but the child in me says noooo stay uuuuup you know you want to, and it's winning. And it shouldn't be. Very frustrating. So I'm trying to visualise that lovely comfortable feeling of when you snuggle underneath the doona and close your eyes and feel sleep magically wave across you and transport you somewhere else, to a cloud, to a past event, to anything at all. I'm a 50/50 bet here. It's anyone's guess what I'll do next.

Gotta love living on the edge....

It would seem

as if this bug is finally starting to settle. Lexi was a lot better today, although still has a little cough. Tabitha on the other hand wore the full brunt today, falling asleep on many occasions in random places. At one stage I actually put her in to bed only to walk in not 2 minutes later and find her asleep on the floor. She just wasn't comfortable. Then after about 45 minutes she came out, said hi, had a cuddle, then proceeded to walk over near the kitchen, lie down on the floor and fall asleep again. Poor baby. Angus is also on the worst day, although his worst day was actually overnight last night, as was mine. The girls thankfully slept, however mini dude and myself were up coughing and spluttering quite a bit.

So another day of laying like broccoli and doing nothing in particular. Lexi did a few drawings, Tabitha did one and then got upset because the crayons weren't playing the game she wanted (which was see how many crayons I can fit in my hand without them falling down). They were falling down. She was not happy with them.

And another day of nothing particularly exciting food wise. I had made mini quiches a few days back which are always good sellers, and made some chicken wings last night, which didn't sell last night but were fairly popular today. Jelly, though a hit a few days back, was nahmated today. Perhaps the jelly thrill is over. Or perhaps it doesn't taste the same a few days later. I couldn't tell you, I don't really eat jelly. I prefer to drink the warm jelly mix before it goes into the fridge. Not that I do that. But I would prefer it.

Tomorrow the girls are supposed to go to daycare. If Tabitha wakes up like Lexi woke up today they will go. If not, well, I think Lexi may go and Tabitha may stay home. I don't want them going in and infecting all the other kids. I'm pretty sure she'll be right, the endless nose running is now clear. Always a good sign.

I'm sitting here with a box of tissues and a gin and tonic. I had some cough medicine before so hopefully that'll kick in. Sneezing is getting me a bit though. Hoping the gin will help there. How? No idea but I think it's worth a try......

I sound like

that pimply teenager off the Simpsons. I'm quite amazed at how long this cold bug is hanging around, for all of us. Lexi was the first to fall on Thursday, then Tabitha, then Angus, then finally me. It does seem to have a 'progression' though and Lexi now has just the remnants of a cough, Tabitha is picking up also. Angus's cough is at its worst thus far and mine is starting to get some real personality too. So at least it will be coming to an end it would seem.

And something amazing happened yesterday. Both the girls were quite unwell, which we knew, and I thought I would just put them into their beds to try and relax. Relax they did, and before long both were asleep. Angus was a little perturbed, I was exhausted, so I lay on the bed on a few pillows with Angus on my chest. After a few minutes of wriggling around he calmed right down, so I laid him down beside me. And we fell asleep. Everyone in the house had a nap. In the daytime. At the same time. When I woke up I seriously could not wipe the smile from my face. Things like that are a rarity, particularly when you have daughters who boycott daytime naps on a regular basis.

Last night I finally had the early night I was after, although my nights are never straight through what with Angus and sickness etc. But last night I went to bed at 9.30pm, was up with Angus at 11.30pm, back to bed by about quarter to 12 then not up again til just after 4. Then back for a bit on and off til about quarter past 6. Most sleep I've had for ages. So I feel as refreshed as I can considering I feel as though I have had glue injected into my ears, nose and throat.

Today is going to be another slothenly day. I feel they are the best when there is sickness in the house. One positive is that Lexi is eating breakfast. Huge positive actually. Both girls have been completely off their food for the last few days, and I was quite surprised at this until I realised that I, too, had been off my food. I think it is a combination of it hurting to swallow with the fact that taste buds are truly dulled so basically you are eating just for the sake of it, not for the taste of it. It's the same with coffee, I really can't taste it, but I'll be buggered if I am going to not drink it, I need it. I truly do. If you had not guess, my WOTD (word of the day) is truly. Truly it is. I seem to go through days using the same word a bazillion times for no apparent reason. My personal faves are sensational, well, truly (so it seems), however, and some random ones that pop up every now and then.

Uni started back yesterday. With not so much a bang as a cough. So I haven't yet started. I'm hoping the girls are well enough to go to daycare tomorrow. I shan't send them if they're still yuck because I'm a firm believer in not cross infecting if you can possibly avoid it. I'm sure that Lexi picked up the bug from daycare and brought it home to us, and it's a doozy. But at least they're building up immunity, that's what I tell myself (although it's hard to take solace in this fact at 2am when they're coughing up a lung).

Hopefully soon I will feel the desire to cook again. Last night I made chicken wings and ate 2 before I realised I couldn't taste them and it seriously wasn't worth the effort. So they're in the fridge now. I have a truckload of eggs too in the anticipation of making an egg and bacon pie, but I'll hold off doing that till we're all eating properly again. For now I think it'll be toast and dry bikkies. And the opportunity to rediscover daytime tv. Wonder what I've been missing......

Negativity

upsets me. I don't like being negative, I don't like feeling negative, and I don't like hearing other people constantly be negative. Which is why times like this are so hard for me, because the day really didn't have a lot of "good" things in it. We are still all sick, I woke up convinced I had inhaled the contents of Gilette's factory, and we are all sleep deprived, coughing, fevers, and general malaise. We're all sick. Simple.

So food is an issue. It hurts to eat some things. So you don't, you eat other things. But then you don't know what you want, or you know what you want but you are two and it doesn't matter how many times you repeat it and how loud this repetition gets (think Americans in Europe) you still aren't understood, so you have to go without what would possibly be the one thing that would make you feel better. Or not. I might just be reading into things.

Today I am feeling very, what's the word, um, defeated I think is the correct word. My whole body aches, it hurts to swallow, breathe, blink, think, move, all that. And the kids still need me so I have to keep trucking on. And I'm getting angry at them for being sick, because I'm sick too and nobody is looking after me. It isn't fair (mentally chucking a tantrum throwing self on ground, stomping fists and feet and screaming).

Today is one of those days when you think why the hell did I choose to have three children under three, then chastise yourself brutally for even thinking that because there is no way in hell you'd be without any of your children, so you feel worse, and then you get angry, and you see it becomes a vicious circle.

So I shall leave it there. All that has vomited from my fingers onto this virtual page has been negative and I am not happy about it. I hate it in fact. It is not who I am. But I'm feeling so very very worn down and am finding it hard to muster the me out of the quagmire.

Here's hoping tonight somehow resembles a night in a house and not cough o'clock at the local hospital.

I bid you adieu and trust that tomorrow is another day. And inevitably it will be.

Today was without a doubt

the longest day in history. I can not explain why it went so slowly, but it did. All the kids were sick, which I knew was coming, Lexi having been struck down the earliest, and the others were bound to follow, particularly considering at how close quarters they all are, giving each other cuddles and kisses all the time, and drinking from each others water bottles and cups and whatnot. So I really wasn't surprised when last night sucked a bit and then this morning it seemed as though mucous had taken up residence and bred overnight, so pyjama day it was, and slothing was in high demand.

I have a philosophy when the kids are sick. Basically they can pretty well have whatever they want (within reason of course) because they just aren't feeling well and I remember what it feels like to feel sick and sometimes you just want to have a dry biscuit or a juice or a piece of apple with a milkshake chaser.

I'm pretty tired. I'm not really sleeping all that much, and when I do it is interrupted, as is this post, by mini people coughing. Or wriggling. Or moving. Or just wanting a cuddle. And that's where my job comes in.

Most people that don't have kids don't understand that of all the jobs there are in the world without a doubt the most difficult of all jobs is that of the stay at home mum. No other job are you on call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for around 18 years. No other job are you expected to drop everything to attend to one of your charges. No other job do you work under these conditions purely for the love of it. I have worked night shift. I have worked tough jobs that are unrelenting and unrewarding. But I have never before worked as hard as I have worked in these last three years looking after my babies.

I'm anticipating going back into the workforce next year. In preparation for this the girls have started daycare 2 days a week. That is not the only reason either, it's due to the enormous amount of study required for my course, and I'm finding it difficult to function on next to no sleep. And let me tell you, essays don't flow so easily when you are sleep deprived, which then leads to frustration which leads to inability to sleep even though your body is literally shagged beyond belief from the day's activities and all you wish for is some shut eye and to turn off for even five minutes.

But I digress. Being a mum is not easy. And it is made more difficult every time your child coughs. Or cries. Or is miserable. Because you want to make it better, and sometimes you just can't.

And I can't. Threefold. And it is torture. And mums will often say they would rather be ill themselves than see their children go through it, and I have also said this. And it has happened, because I can feel my eyes getting that droopiness that sickness brings, and I have the tickle that started at the back of my throat and has now spread to a mat of discomfort, and I know I'm getting sick too. I just want to sleep. I really really just want to sleep. And I can't. I probably could if I lay down, but lying down just means I Have to get up again, and at least if I stay semi-upright when I need to get back up again it isn't so hard to do, whereas if I lie down and begin to relax it hurts more, if that makes sense.

To be honest with you I have absolutely no idea what I have just written. Lexi is coughing and I am anticipating her waking within a matter of seconds, upset, wanting me to help but not wanting me to help because she feels yuck and just wants to stop feeling yuck. Agh. Such a cruel world when babies get sick.

And so I go, to watch whatever the hell I have on the television, which has been on for some 45 minutes now and I seriously could not tell you what it is, and hope that the babies start to settle and that maybe, just maybe, I might grab a little shut eye myself. I can hope.