Priorities

become glaringly apparent when curve balls are thrown your way.

I have an essay due tomorrow and I have been stressing somewhat about this essay because all the kids have been sick and up most of the night so study time is very limited, as is sleep time.

Last night I could not have given a flying razoo about the essay. Lexi was spinning around in the kitchen with Tabitha (kids love to spin and stopping them doing it is something like trying to stop the sun rising in the morning). She was having a wonderful time until she lost her footing and fell, landing head first on the lino. She screamed. She cried. I cuddled her tight. This lasted about 10 minutes. She then toddled over to the lounge chair and promptly fell asleep. Not a good sign.

So I picked her up and put her into bed thinking that she may wake up in the next 10 or 15 minutes to have some panadol for what must be a ripper of a headache. I wasn't prepared for the massive onslaught of continuous vomiting that occurred. And fall + drowsiness + vomiting spells danger.

I packed her into the car and off we went to the hospital. We didn't make it 5 minutes before she threw up again. That reminds me I still have to clean the car. And then we drove another 5 minutes and she threw up again. A small sleep and another few hurls before we arrived at the hospital, literally covered in vomit. I had towels in the car and kept placing them on her but the vomiting was violent and the towels were moving and there was not a great deal that could be done.

So we rocked up at emergency reeking of vomit, and covered in it, they asked what had happened, and, with a waiting room literally full of people, they rushed Lexi through, she vomiting just before we got to the room she was put into.

I can't believe just how good the nurses and doctor were with her. They made her feel comfortable, explained everything to her in a way she could understand, and made me feel more at ease too.

We were told that with head injuries the worst things usually happen in the first four hours, so they wanted to keep us there until it had been four hours since the injury. I agreed. That was fine. The doctor was fairly sure that she had sustained only a low velocity head injury, she was still complaining of pain in the back of the head as well as the front, but as the nurse explained, often times head injuries are like a tomato in a glass jar. If you shake the jar the tomato is going to bruise on both sides. I think that about sums it up.

Anyway long story short they gave her something to stop the vomiting, gave me a rundown and a printed sheet of all the things to look out for and let us go home, Lexi still wearing the pink hospital gown they had given her to wear as all her clothes were covered in vomit.

We got home, she was asleep, and I put her into bed. I then did my essay for an hour and a half, then Angus woke up so I fed him. Then Tabitha woke up so I gave her a bottle. Then I checked on Lexi. I crawled into bed at about 1.30am and at 1.45am Angus coughed waking himself up. The rest of the night really just went Angus, Tabitha, Lexi, until morning arrived and we all got up and started over.

Lexi is much better today. Angus is getting there. Tabitha still has a runny nose but the cough seems to have broken. Mummy is absolutely shagged but got the essay finished this morning.

I had other things I was going to say but to be quite honest I don't even know what day it is let alone what it was I was going to say. Oh, but I need clothes pegs and coat hangers. That is one thing I have to remember.

There is no room

in my car. And by no room I mean not even the kids can fit in. Well, Lexi can because she came to the shops with me yesterday so I had to make sure she fit.

When you move interstate and decide not to bring anything with you, as had always been the decision (when we first moved up north we didn't take anything and decided then that we would do it the other way as well) just remember that there are a lot of things that you don't really bank on remembering that you need. Until you write a list. Which I did. That list is enormous. So yesterday I set out on expedition "get everything I need to make sure when we move on Wednesday we have everything we need". I'm pretty bloody happy with the result too. I managed to get everything from mattress protectors to a toasted sandwich maker, from dustpan and brush to microwave. And I did it on a budget. How? One word. KMart. Or is that one word and a letter? Ah no matter, whatever it is I went there and got truckloads of stuff at a really good price, so now we're all set.

I am going like a bat out of hell to try and get the essay completed by today so that tomorrow can be spent packing and getting organised. I'm nearly there. But having little sleep doesn't help.

As a mum you do things a certain way and sometimes you think to yourself I wonder why I do them that way. Well, last night was one of those times. I usually feed the girls between 4.30pm and 5.00pm. It's early, yes, but that's just what I do. I couldn't actually remember why until last night. Rellies popped over for dinner so we didn't eat till around 6pm. After the main course there was dessert which was closer to 7.15pm. Tabitha had gone to bed around then but Lexi stayed up to play with her cousin and eat some cheesecake.

It was only an hour or so after she went to bed that I remembered why I usually feed the girls early. It's because of the reaction Lexi seems to have if she eats later and then goes straight to bed. It isn't good. It isn't good at all. So it was around 10pm before she finally settled down, and then I had to knuckle down and do the essay. I went like a woman possessed till around 11.15pm when Angus woke up. And he didn't want to go back to sleep. Disappointing. Eventually went down around midnight. Tabitha woke up at 12.41pm and wasn't too happy with the state of the world so I, being the knackered mummy, gave in without even basically being hounded and gave her a bottle because I just needed to get some sleep. And then Angus woke up again around 2am and talked and carried on for a good hour before nodding off again, I then checked on the girls, covered them both back up and stealthed back into bed and actually managed to get about 2.5 hours straight sleep. Amazing. Who the hell gets excited about 2.5 hours straight sleep? Me, that's who, cos sleep is not forthcoming of late. I do have a feeling though that once we move into the house with ducted heating (hurrah) then sleep will come a lot easier. The kids are simply not used to it being so cold at night and when they wake up and breathe in the icy air they find it difficult to get back to sleep.

2 more sleeps. 2 more sleeps. 2 more sleeps.

And I already have our first meal planned. The colonel would be pleased.

You know you're tired

when you get to the end of the day and all the kids are finally asleep so you sit down at the computer and open up your blog to type in a bit of an entry and you realise you have actually already blogged what you were just about to blog.

Blog. Blog. Blog. I know it's short for weblog. But still. Blog. It's a funny word. I think that has to be one of the contestants (a winner no doubt) in the "let's add a word to the dictionary" competition.

I wonder how many people around the globe actually use "nahmate" as I do. I wonder.

Little man is coughing. Sigh. I don't like my babies being sick. Lexi coughs at night lately. Throughout the day she is fine, but at night, after she has been asleep for a short time, she wakes coughing. I put it down to the colder air here, and the fact that she got a cold. Tabitha coughs too. But she is only coughing because Lexi and Angus are coughing and she doesn't want to be the odd one out.

Phone voices annoy me. It's like an auditory disguise. Thing is, once you see that person in person then you hear their real voice, and if it isn't their phone voice it is very disconcerting. It just doesn't fit. Kinda like the internet chat room where you see the photo of the stunning buxom blonde with perfect skin and teeth, when in reality it's probably a big fat hairy trucker called Bruce.

What has annoyed me the most today is the fact that I was not as observant as I should have been. I was under the impression my next assignment was due on the 18th of February. We are moving on the morning of the 16th of February so I thought that would be okay, I can get some study done that night then will be settled enough the following day to finish it off. Oh no, that would be too easy. The assignment is in actual fact due on the 16th of February. Yes, the day we move. And because we are moving in the morning that rules out the morning, and most likely the afternoon, and I can't bank on the fact that the kids will be settled in the new place, so essentially I must have the assignment done by the 15th. Three days.

Wish me luck.

In four days

we move. And I can honestly say I am almost beside myself with excitement. The place we are moving to is a brilliant house, has a great yard, spacious inside, close to heaps of things and is basically everything I could want. And for a rental property it is amazing that it checks all the boxes. I even did a drive by today.... caught up with some more of the kids cousins not far from the house so thought the opportunity was too good not to just swing past and have a look see. I am so glad I did too, for I was able to see that the owners had completed the fencing such that the sides of the house are now completely enclosed, which means it is a 100% entirely kid friendly and safe (as well as dog friendly and safe) property. Brilliant.

The only problem is that time has apparently decided to go at half speed, if not less. Since I was given the all clear that the place was ours time has dragged like nobody's business. Every day feels like a week. Every night feels like a month. The latter is probably because all the kids are still sick and waking up a bazillion times a night. And Angus. Well. I don't know where to start. He has taken to waking in the middle of the night and remaining that way, very vocally, for quite some time. I do believe it is his quest to drive me even more insane, for when he wakes in the morning after however much sleep I didn't get he looks at me with adoring eyes that smile and a cheeky little grin as if to say "wasn't that fun mummy?". Cheeky little monkey.

And now he is squawking like a parrot that has swallowed a galah so I guess I should get back to feeding him.

I will leave you with a lesson for the day (or shall I say night). When sitting feeding your child in darkness, a light "walking" touch feeling against your arm may not be the spider you fear it is, it may simply be your child's fingers. Reacting as though it were a spider will ensure that your child stays up and remains that way, vocally, for some time. And there endeth the lesson.

Oh. My. God.

Don't you hate it when you see posts like that on forums, with no further information but the statement Oh. My. God. ?? Well, in this case I'm sorry but it is justified. For today I went to Ikea. I am now no longer an Ikea virgin. And I can tell you, judging by my experience today I could quite easily become an Ikea junkie (which is not of the same verbal example but I don't really fancy being referred to as an Ikea whore, so junkie it is).

I don't really know what I was expecting. People had been saying for such a long time how wonderful it was and how cheap and how this and how that. But it's like having a child. Until you have one of your own you just don't understand. I now understand.

Needless to say I am going back next week. I must go back next week. I managed to get out today with only 2 frypans, 3 saucepans, a broom, 6 drinking glasses, 5 kids plates, 5 kids bowls, 5 kids cups, a pair of scissors, a doormat, a massive drying rack, cutlery setting for 8, a salad spinner, 2 hot dogs, 3 donuts and a big M and spent under $100. As I said earlier - Oh. My. God.

I'm going back. And next time I'm not taking the kids.

Sleep arrived

eventually, after a very shaky start to the night. Incredibly shaky. So shaky in fact that I think the time space continuum has been ripped beyond repair. However it is now morning, and we made it through the night. To give you an indication of how horrid it was I was relieved when I heard each and every child cough and cry out, at roughly the same time, this morning because it meant they were still here.

I think I worry more than the average mother. I know most mother's worry and that is completely understandable. However at 23 I was told I would never have children. So in some strange little way my beautiful little babies were never meant to exist, and sometimes I fear that because of this they will be taken away from me, because every day I have with them is literally a miracle. Some days I don't behave as though they are, some days Lexi tests me to the limits and Tabitha sends my blood pressure soaring and Angus ends up with clumps full of my hair in his fist and on those days it tends to float out of my mind just how lucky I am. But at the end of the day, when all is quiet and there is time to reflect, I check in on my babies, as I do several times every night and probably will do several times a night until they leave home, and I smile. Because I do have them. They are real. And they are here. And they are mine. And although I know not what the future holds, I cherish the past and try as much as I can to live in the present, looking only towards the future with the hope that their little lives develop and they are happy and healthy. So today we're going to work on that. The healthy bit. And then on we'll go.

I love Blistex. The little tub. My brother reckons that Blistex is an addiction, much like cigarettes or drugs or alcohol or gambling or shopping. He reckons you used to see women everywhere crack open the miniature tub for a "fix" at regular intervals. I think that's a bit of a stretch, but I do like the way it makes my lips feel, especially right about now considering I'm also sick and the temperature has changed a fair amount and my lips are no longer smooth and rosy but more like spiky, raw and luminescent. Not a good look. So I slather the Blistex on and hope that it will ease things a bit, even if it makes me look as though I have been eating KFC with no hands.

I'm just about to thaw out some steak. I'm not having steak for dinner, but I'm going to use it in the slow cooker. It's oyster blade steak. If you've never had that then you're in a for a treat. It is a great cut of meat, when cooked the right way. It is a good one for the bbq, but I don't have a bbq so won't be doing that. I must add that to the house wishlist actually. Bbq. Check. Another great way to do it, which is how I'm doing it today, is in the slow cooker (or pressure cooker, whichever you have available). The sauce I am going to put with it is called panrem sauce (pantry remnant sauce). It involves cutting up the meat, and an onion, and a carrot or two and some celery if you have it, and a couple of potatoes, then chucking them in the slowy with a liberal splash of soy sauce, worcestershire sauce, brown sugar, flour, salt and pepper, cajun seasoning, balsamic vinegar, and basically any other sauces or things you can find in the pantry. It started off as a very simple four ingredient recipe and has grown to incorporate much of the stuff you buy and use once for a specific recipe then never use again and I figured this was wasteful so why not figure out a way to use it all. Slow cookers are brilliant for that. Chuck everything in, turn it on and in 8 hours there's your meal. I could put in a tin of tomatoes too but for some reason I don't think I want to involve them in it today. I do have some mushrooms though, they'll go in there. Hmmmm. I have probably got a splash of red wine hanging around somewhere too, that'll be nice.

I'm going to continue my fight against the stereotyping of foods by having a poached egg on toast and some olives for breakfast. As you do.

I hate nothing more

than when the kids are sick.

Tabitha and Angus were so obviously unwell today, runny noses, coughing, red cheeks, just generally crappy. Lexi was not. She sounded as though she was getty a little husky but I was glad she wasn't as sick as the others. Until they went to bed. And now Lexi is much sicker than they are. She is waking up breathless, coughing, spluttering, freaking out because she can't breathe properly. And I am powerless to help her. I have put vicks on her chest and feet, have a sudoclear plugged in, and she is presently sleeping, sounding as though she is Darth Vader's long lost daughter. It is horrendous. And when she wakes again, which she will, but not fully, she will freak out again. And it is scary. And makes me cry. She screams and coughs and struggles for air and kicks and pulls my hair and I literally have to squeeze her close to my body and tell her that it's okay, that I am there, and she needs to calm down and breathe.

I don't think I have ever felt quite so helpless as right this very moment.

And my "ideal" lifestyle of living in the country with no neighbours far from the city but close enough to commute is losing appeal. The closest hospital is 30 odd kilometres away. And in an emergency that is just too far away.

I am very happy with the choice I made for us and where our new place is located. Still not next door to a hospital, but much closer, and with neighbours, and friends, close by.

Sometimes what we think we want we want only because we haven't seen what the future holds for us, or the little curveballs that might pop up, and although we may end up in a place that we think is not perfect, in many instances that place, the place that is not our ideal but is a decent substitute, is, for all intents and purposes at that moment in your life, the place that you need to be.

Sometimes, not always, I think things happen for a reason.