Monday, September 25, 2006
we take a break from our regularly scheduled anxiety over organising tradies, social calls, small domestic crises such as the dog scoffing a sandwich from our front yard "picnic", and of course the usual, to bring you this Cute Moment. We were walking down the front path this morning and A. didn't want to get in his pram. so he said: "It's OK, Mum, I walk, Mum, no worries, Mum."
aaah. how sweet. a little Australian. no worries, Mum.
aaah. how sweet. a little Australian. no worries, Mum.
Friday, September 22, 2006
childcare continues to be an issue: I know he loves it there, but he says he doesn't want to go, and clings when he's there. so this morning I took him down early, to give it lots of time. eventually he got his turn on the paints and I was told I could go. but it's not simple.
he's waking up earlier and earlier: I'm working on a shutter for his window.
yesterday we went to the market to meet my Mum and there was a baby-animal "petting zoo". a) baby pigs are soooo cute. b) when teamed with my gorgeous son, they send cuteness off the meter.
he's helping me write a little children's story, all about animals that swallow musical instruments. I may actually send it to a publisher.
he's waking up earlier and earlier: I'm working on a shutter for his window.
yesterday we went to the market to meet my Mum and there was a baby-animal "petting zoo". a) baby pigs are soooo cute. b) when teamed with my gorgeous son, they send cuteness off the meter.
he's helping me write a little children's story, all about animals that swallow musical instruments. I may actually send it to a publisher.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
not much to report: oncologist today, all seems to be normal; wound is continuing to weep nastily and I have pretty much given up on achieving the desired result. all I want now is the use of my body back, and to be able to swim and ride again. plastic surgeon is back from holidays at the start of October: I'll need to make some hard decisions about what to have done. the last-gasp hope is that I can get this implant reduced and let it heal over; if it did heal, I could then wait until the baby #2 issue had been resolved before having the operation that involves taking muscle from my stomach. sigh. six months of incapacity, and for what? nada.
A. is beetling happily away. using the potty when he feels like it, which isn't often. enjoying finding things that "match the same". teases me when I ask for a kiss. only two months until his third birthday.
A. is beetling happily away. using the potty when he feels like it, which isn't often. enjoying finding things that "match the same". teases me when I ask for a kiss. only two months until his third birthday.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
usually, I nap between about 12.30 and 1.30, or even 2 if I can manage it. today, I'm aiming to get into bed at midday so I can be up again at 1 and in the car at 1.30, to drive my friend to the hospital. she's had her second miscarriage at nine weeks and it's so bloody unfair. her dh will be staying home with her son, who is A's age - this is the same child who's just been diagnosed with epilepsy.
she's the one who is there for the rest of us if we need a cup of tea and a shoulder. all she wants is to be at home with her son and have more babies. of all of us who are still in my mother's group, only three remain without a second child (or within weeks of delivering one): one for whom another child is genetically inadvisable, me, and this woman.
and there is no right thing to say, except variations on "I'm sorry".
she's the one who is there for the rest of us if we need a cup of tea and a shoulder. all she wants is to be at home with her son and have more babies. of all of us who are still in my mother's group, only three remain without a second child (or within weeks of delivering one): one for whom another child is genetically inadvisable, me, and this woman.
and there is no right thing to say, except variations on "I'm sorry".
Friday, September 01, 2006
@ the market yesterday I was passed by a woman in maybe her early thirties, completely, shinily, bald.
it wasn't shaved, it was just not-there. and of course it would have been intrusive to say anything to her. and one can't assume it was chemo. but I had to admire her all the same. because I know the assumptions people make are not always good ones; the looks I got when my hair was uber-short at the resort in Thailand were not sympathetic. they were disapproving of my "hairstyle".
and I wondered if I ever looked quite as bald as that, and of course I know I did, but then again I didn't, because I never stepped out into the sunshine with not even a scarf on my head.
latest whinge: that the attempts to protect my right arm have led to a kind of jarring of my neck on the left side somehow and I am in some not inconsiderable pain, which is worse when I walk, and utterly prevented sleep of more than half an hour's duration at a time last night. I am getting around the house with a hotpack in a sarong strapped to my neck, like a kind of knotted-up boa constrictor. the tiredness is extreme, and I'm going with it by just lying on A's "tv couch" reading a book.
it wasn't shaved, it was just not-there. and of course it would have been intrusive to say anything to her. and one can't assume it was chemo. but I had to admire her all the same. because I know the assumptions people make are not always good ones; the looks I got when my hair was uber-short at the resort in Thailand were not sympathetic. they were disapproving of my "hairstyle".
and I wondered if I ever looked quite as bald as that, and of course I know I did, but then again I didn't, because I never stepped out into the sunshine with not even a scarf on my head.
latest whinge: that the attempts to protect my right arm have led to a kind of jarring of my neck on the left side somehow and I am in some not inconsiderable pain, which is worse when I walk, and utterly prevented sleep of more than half an hour's duration at a time last night. I am getting around the house with a hotpack in a sarong strapped to my neck, like a kind of knotted-up boa constrictor. the tiredness is extreme, and I'm going with it by just lying on A's "tv couch" reading a book.
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