Sunday, December 25, 2005

this is unhealthy, I'm sure: just found another test that gave me 128. maybe the coffee's kicking in.

the Wiggles Christmas was a great success, although he did notice that there was no Jeff figurine, and the arm broke off Anthony as soon as he picked it up. now he's sleeping off the morning's excitement while I drink coffee (no nap today, lunch at inlaws) and obsess about my IQ. last night I sat down, drunk, and did a test and only scored 110. so this morning I thought right, I'll do it again, with coffee. but I only got 120. so I did another. 119. those little diagrams just didn't make sense. I seem to recall the patterns jumping out at me when I did tests like that before. is it possible that chemo really has knocked 20 points off my IQ?

Friday, December 23, 2005

don't know if it's the turning of the year or the leaving of the job, but I'm feeling a bit of a seachange breeze in my emotions about this cancer thing: I'm starting to maybe, just maybe, hope it's gone for good. while, of course, continuing to live my life in the clear awareness that I could die; that I will die one day, and perhaps sooner than later. it certainly puts an edge on things.

and in my baby #2 feelings? still minding very much the pg women around me. still wanting that second child. but not entirely sure that in two years it will be the right thing to do. sigh.

meanwhile, A has a new obsession: Santa, and is about to experience the grandparent-fest that is Xmas.

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

following the random link button can get you rubbish; or it can get you the story of twins born at less than a kilo each who are surviving and thriving. so many incredible things happening to ordinary people out there.

Friday, December 16, 2005

ps: and if you yourself received no cards in that particular post, despite having sent out about 30 two days earlier, and no one claims the card is it permissible to display said card alongside the ones from wig companies and real estate agents in a sad effort to appear popular?

questions for today:

if a Christmas card addressed to Elizabeth, David, Lola and Boo, with no return address but warm gushing feelings from Marie on the inside, lands in your letterbox by mistake, (addressed to your street number, in a street with an unusual name, so you're sure it's just the number that's wrong) and there are maybe 80 house in your street; are you obliged to print up a little notice and drop it off to everyone in the street in an effort to find the intended recipients?

if you're trying to keep your two-year-old off lollies for his own good, and he receives a huge jelly snake from Santa at the childcare xmas party, and you give him a tiny bit and save the rest for "later", is it OK to eat said snake yourself, knowing he's only two and won't remember you have it?

and finally, are redundancy payouts like semi-boiled pots? if I stop checking my bank account, will that make the money land in the same way going to the bathroom makes call centres finally pick up my call after a 20-minute wait on hold?

should be working - this is the last time I can say that, although in the future I'll say "should be studying".

it's been a busy coupla days; first the Wiggles, then yesterday the one-hour trek through peak hour traffic to Brighton to see the plastic surgeon.

which was, in the end, an anticlimax. I wanted her to say "this is what we'll do, and when". instead, I have an appointment to see the dr who helps her with one of the options that we have open. basically, I can have an implant (easier, less real looking, may need replacing, may not be an option due to radiotherapy damage), some muscle and skin taken from my back (more realistic, longer recovery, may further reduce my use of my right arm) or some muscle and fat taken from my stomach (scar on stomach, new patch of skin, which may be a good or a bad thing, fake breast may change in size if I gain/lose weight as it still thinks it's stomach fat, may compromise my stomach muscles in future pregnancy, huge SIX HOUR operation to move all that stuff from A to B.)

so with all those options open, it looks unlikely I'll have completed surgery by the end of May for my 40th. bummer. even if we started now, the implant process takes several months, plus at some stage they have to construct a nipple. the upside is that I saw photos of her work and was impressed with how real most of the breasts looked. she's talking to my radiotherapist; if he gives the OK, I think I might just go for the implant - less chopping up of the rest of my body appeals somewhat right now.

at least I got out of there on time and had a chance to eat lunch and read an essay in a St Kilda cafe - so rare these days.

and in the afternoon, we had mother's group and the childcare centre xmas party, where A had his face painted like a tiger and got his first present from a real live Santa.

with all that in a day, I can't understand why I still don't sleep well at night.

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

I should be working - have yet to knock off my last pathetic little assignment - so the wiggles report will be short.

I decided to ride my bike, towing A. in the trailer, so woke him at 8.45 from his nap (last night was an ugly night sleepwise, but that's another story). we got there at 9.35 for the 10:00 show, took our seats at 9.50. they started late, at around 10.25. but all was forgiven the minute they actually came on stage (with Sam instead of Greg, sadly). A simply couldn't believe his eyes. he pointed and waved and his eyes goggled out of his head. for most of the show he danced and bounced; he got a bit tired at one point but held up really well.

coming home he fell asleep in the trailer, then woke and sooked while I sweated in the midday sun - so much for environmentally friendly transport methods. overall though, well worth it.

still, I'm not as much of a "Wiggles tragic" as this woman's friend: she bought tickets to morning and afternoon shows in Sydney for several days running. can you imagine doing that? nice that they're selling them at cost, which reflects that these are, after all, kids' shows.

Saturday, December 10, 2005

tragedy: the Wiggles' lead singer has a double hernia, no less, and is being replaced by an understudy who looks nothing like him. will A. notice on Wednesday? I bet he does.

tragedy: the Wiggles' lead singer has a double hernia, no less, and is being replaced by an understudy who looks nothing like him. will A. notice on Wednesday? I bet he does.

Friday, December 09, 2005

milestones I don't want to miss: the point where he'll actually remember me. Primary school. Secondary school. his uni graduation. his wedding. his children (my grandchildren).

milestones I've made it to so far that a year ago I thought I might not: His second birthday.

Thursday, December 08, 2005

A was unhappy about something today. I think I'd said no to him about suffocating our new fish or something like that. anyway, he was screaming and objecting to having his nappy changed. Suddenly, I saw a necklace of red glass beads on the counter. I held them over his head. He looked. I waved them to and fro. He reached. I draped them over him. He stopped screaming. Then I said "They're red, like Murray wears, aren't they?" He said "Murray? Murray?". From then on, it was just a matter of saying "Murray, Wiggles, do you want to wear your red T-shirt like Murray does? where's your guitar? Wiggles, Murray", and he was putty in my hands.

this kid is SERIOUSLY obsessed.

speaking of wiggles, I find it suspicious that there are no Jeff figurines in the wiggles shop; is it like the secret messages about Paul being dead?

and speaking of the beatles, am wearing my "I love New York" T-shirt today. because it's the 8th of december.

and speaking of the 8th of December, this will also be remembered as: the day someone went into labour at mothers' group, left at 4.30 and had her baby by 6.30. And remembered by me as the day I got sacked from my job, to the tune of $46,000. It's a lot of money, but in reality it will just reduce the mortgage on my country place and now I have no visible means of support. I thought I'd be cool with it, but it's kind of weird to be leaving the paper, even with such a part-time job as I had. tomorrow I got to uni for my interview for my honours year. the writing thing suddently seems amorphous and fanciful and what the hell am I doing? ah well, it's done. and in two years I can always go back to work, tail between my legs and beg for a job cleaning the toilets or something. Will probably need to find something to earn money - apart from ramping up the rental of the holidya place to pay for it - just to maintain my self-respect and feelings of independence from dh. silly really; he has plenty of money, which means so do I, and my earnings were hardly covering my medical costs. but it's the principle.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

ova girl is pregnant: beta 490. my guess is one emby, but who knows; we'll just have to wait for the next thrilling instalment.

I love this stuff when it works...

Saturday, December 03, 2005

after three weeks of truce, the problems dh and I have been having have blown up again. on Thursday night I asked if he could come home early Friday: he hasn't been home early since we got back from paris. I later mentioned that Friday would also be a good time to try for a snog. we haven't had sex for five weeks, and before that, who knows how long. now, you'd expect he'd be on the doorstep at 5.30 pm, clutching a bunch of flowers and sporting a fine erection after a hint like that. but no. he rocks in at 6.45 pm, after I've done all A's dinner/bath/our dinner preparation, a mere 15 minutes earlier than his nominal "home time", though it's been more like 7.30 lately. and when I tried - I swear, gently - to talk about how we could get a more harmonious home life, how he could manage one early night a fortnight perhaps - he got all defensive, as he does, said he'd come home to "a war zone", etc etc. it's the trick he pulled in Hong Kong, and many times since; put all the onus of defining a good relationship, a good home time, on me, then push it to the limit (in Hong Kong it was turning up 20 minutes late on my swim nights), then imply that I'm a difficult, demanding bitch for questioning that. the fact I faxed in my redundancy application yesterday didn't help: I was feeling condemned to permanent, powerless, housewifery. so of course no sex. at 5 am a suitcase he'd left propped up in the bedroom fell over. that was the end of my sleep; I lay awake thinking of the war zone comment and the general pattern of attacking when I ask for help, and eventually started crying; cue pointless discussion with husband.

at lunchtime, after I went out to get my new glasses, I told him what I'd concluded: that his complete lack of effort at romance despite our big talk about this after the internet porn incident, his lateness on a hot date night and his complete lack of interest in my recent proposal that A could stay with my folks while we had a night in a nice B and B (meaning "dirty weekend") indicated to me that he was just not interested in having sex with me, or at least not enough to make half an effort. he's the one person who's in a position to make me feel better about my body and my sexuality right now, and what's he doing? nothing. I seriously feel almost entitled to go off and have an affair for my own mental health. I'm a woman who used to have a string of boys, and those boys were always interested, to say the least. now sex happens maybe every two months. yes, I could jump on him. but I'm feeling hurt and rejected and I don't really want to, you know?

so last night's hot date was ruined, today I'm a zombie and wasting valuable A. sleep time when I could be writing or working because I have no mind (I just made a coffee in the percolator with no coffee). and I don't see what's different about this round of conversations about what I need that will make him actually respond.

Friday, December 02, 2005

the Victorian Law Reform Commission's position paper on gestational surrogacy is out. you can find it at

I haven't hyperlinked that because I am quite happy keeping this blog and my submissions to the LRC separate. cut and paste if you want to go there.

currently watching the clock count down to the execution of Van Nguyen in Singapore. sympathising both ways: with the knowledge of death coming (though my situation really doesn't compare) and with his poor, poor mother. and ashamed that apparently nearly half of all Australians think it's a fair thing to hang a young man by the neck until he's dead. yes I abhor heroin - I took softer drugs when I was young, and I'm very clear on what heroin can do - but murder of drug mules isn't a solution.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

I love that list of recently updated blogs that scrolls across the blogger homepage. just now I saw "bikini karate babe". it's such a good title I'm not even going to look at in, in case the actual blog sucks.

a realisation from yesterday, driving back from visiting the besotted grandparents Up The Country: normally I hate being observed as I do things. It freaks me out and makes me fumble. but when A sits and watches me, as he does all the time, I feel like I'm practically alone. I have no fear, not yet, of his judgement. I am comfortable in my own skin around him.

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