So, I got an email reminder last week, from a site I had joined years ago, called ' Birthday Calendar'. You probably know which one I'm talking about. You probably got an email from them asking to fill in your details to add to my calendar. I used to be so organised, and I relied on that bloody thing to send me reminders so I'd remember everyone's birthdays. Used to, being the operative word.
The reminder was to motivate me to send a card to my mum for her birthday tomorrow. She would have been 62. But I forgot to tell 'Birthday Calendar' that my mum had died, and that is why I still get the reminders. I don't have the heart to take her name off my list of birthdays.
Now, I don't go around in a permanent fog of grief for my mum. I did most of my grieving before she actually died. But I have to say, that since that reminder, she's been on my mind a lot. Yesterday, I was watching 'Peggy Sue got married', because it was the kind of day to sit and watch trashy flicks...and when the scene came on, where Peggy Sue goes back in time and sees her mum again, it really fucked me up. I could picture being transported back to various points in my life, where my mum was around and imagine what I would say. What I would love to say, if ever given the chance for a do over.
I'm sorry I was such an arsehole as a teen.
I'm so glad you were my mother, because the way you lived your life is such an inspiration to me now.
I wish I had have said thank you more often for everything you did for us. It's only as an adult I'm appreciating what you gave up.
Thank you for sending me Sigrid, Jonah and Tove. Sigrid looked like you at birth, Jonah has your face and Tove has your eyes and hands.
Thank you for showing Freja and Gabriel what a real grandparent is about. Even for a short time. They have never forgotten it and miss you always.
I love you and Thank you are the big ones. Can't say it enough.
Happy 62nd Birthday mum. We're all going to eat cake for you tomorrow...
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Death of a Magnolia
It may seem insignificant to you, but I am grieving the loss of a Magnolia tree. My mother planted this Magnolia in memory of her stillborn son, who was born at 37 weeks gestation. She planted that tree in her little rock garden, so she had good a view from her kitchen window. And some times as she stood and did the dishes and looked out the window, she would be crying as she looked at that Magnolia.
My mother was a Type 1 diabetic from childhood until her death from Breast Cancer. She had many complications during her pregnancies because of it, but never let it deter her from acheiving her goal of being a mother. I was her first born and that pregnancy was pretty much complication free. She fell pregnant a year later and unfortunately didn't have the same smooth sailing. She was admitted to the RWH during her third trimester as her diabetes became harder to manage. She had hypos often, and her BSL readings were all over the place, so they decided to admit her until she'd had her baby.
At 37 weeks, they decided to do an amnio to check the baby's lung maturity. I'm supposing nowadays, they wouldn't have even bothered with that, but back then, amnio was a new technology. They didn't have ultrasounds to guide them though, instead relying on dopplers and feeling the baby's position by hand. This probably wouldn't have been a problem if it was an experienced obstetrician doing it. Unfortunately, they gave my mother a student doctor.
The first needle went in and my mother felt her baby jump up in to her rib cage. She told the doctor, but he told her not to be silly. He took the needle out and it was filled with a bloody fluid. He tried again and once more, my mother felt her unborn move abruptly. The second needle was just as fruitless. The third try, the doctor hit paydirt and sent the fluid off for testing. Pathology would later reveal that it was my mother's urine he had sent away.
Hours after my mother felt how her unborn child distressed. She told the doctors and nurses, but no one listened to her. Then after a few more hours, she felt how the child within her womb grew still. And moved no more. Then they listened. And then they confirmed her fears.
She was induced by herself and birthed her son by herself. He was quickly whisked away without having been held by his mother. She never got to see him, hold him or love on him. She was unconsolable.
Twenty five years later we obtained the autopsy report. My brother had been stabbed in the head, the lungs, the umbilical cord and the abdomen. He had most likely suffered horrendously as he slowly bled to death.
He was buried in a mass grave in Springvale. I have yet to locate it. But one day I will. For my mother.
A year after his birth, my father gave her a magnolia tree to put in the garden. She tended to it and it thrived in that rock garden. She would water it every evening. She could see it from her kitchen window. It was the only truly beautiful thing to come out of a shitty brick home in a shitty little outer eastern suburb. A thing of substance where everything else was lacking.
And now it is gone. Just like my stillborn brother. Just like my mother.
My mother was a Type 1 diabetic from childhood until her death from Breast Cancer. She had many complications during her pregnancies because of it, but never let it deter her from acheiving her goal of being a mother. I was her first born and that pregnancy was pretty much complication free. She fell pregnant a year later and unfortunately didn't have the same smooth sailing. She was admitted to the RWH during her third trimester as her diabetes became harder to manage. She had hypos often, and her BSL readings were all over the place, so they decided to admit her until she'd had her baby.
At 37 weeks, they decided to do an amnio to check the baby's lung maturity. I'm supposing nowadays, they wouldn't have even bothered with that, but back then, amnio was a new technology. They didn't have ultrasounds to guide them though, instead relying on dopplers and feeling the baby's position by hand. This probably wouldn't have been a problem if it was an experienced obstetrician doing it. Unfortunately, they gave my mother a student doctor.
The first needle went in and my mother felt her baby jump up in to her rib cage. She told the doctor, but he told her not to be silly. He took the needle out and it was filled with a bloody fluid. He tried again and once more, my mother felt her unborn move abruptly. The second needle was just as fruitless. The third try, the doctor hit paydirt and sent the fluid off for testing. Pathology would later reveal that it was my mother's urine he had sent away.
Hours after my mother felt how her unborn child distressed. She told the doctors and nurses, but no one listened to her. Then after a few more hours, she felt how the child within her womb grew still. And moved no more. Then they listened. And then they confirmed her fears.
She was induced by herself and birthed her son by herself. He was quickly whisked away without having been held by his mother. She never got to see him, hold him or love on him. She was unconsolable.
Twenty five years later we obtained the autopsy report. My brother had been stabbed in the head, the lungs, the umbilical cord and the abdomen. He had most likely suffered horrendously as he slowly bled to death.
He was buried in a mass grave in Springvale. I have yet to locate it. But one day I will. For my mother.
A year after his birth, my father gave her a magnolia tree to put in the garden. She tended to it and it thrived in that rock garden. She would water it every evening. She could see it from her kitchen window. It was the only truly beautiful thing to come out of a shitty brick home in a shitty little outer eastern suburb. A thing of substance where everything else was lacking.
And now it is gone. Just like my stillborn brother. Just like my mother.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
It's on like Donkey Kong!
Right. The sale went through. We called their bluff.. they bought the house anyway, termites and all. This means the purchase of the house in Kyneton is now unconditional too! OMG WE'RE MOVING TO KYENTON! WOOHOO!
It's been a good week. Freja got her cadet of the year award. She got interviewed by the local newspaper about it and will have her picture in the paper soon. Both she and Gabes got their NAPLAN tests back and both of them broke the glass ceiling there. Well above national standards in all areas. WOOHOO again!
I've negotiated with the removalists and they are bringing boxes over in the next couple of days. The packing up and purging in this place will begin.
The new school for the kids wrote confirming their placements for next year. It's all rolling forward.
Isn't it ridiculous that we can be in this area, struggling in this house, with debts that leave us unable to do anything..and this overinflated house market means that we sell for a shitload more than we bought it for, buy a brand new, never been lived in home that's bigger than we ever thought imaginable and voila..debts gone. Wow.
It's been a good week. Freja got her cadet of the year award. She got interviewed by the local newspaper about it and will have her picture in the paper soon. Both she and Gabes got their NAPLAN tests back and both of them broke the glass ceiling there. Well above national standards in all areas. WOOHOO again!
I've negotiated with the removalists and they are bringing boxes over in the next couple of days. The packing up and purging in this place will begin.
The new school for the kids wrote confirming their placements for next year. It's all rolling forward.
Isn't it ridiculous that we can be in this area, struggling in this house, with debts that leave us unable to do anything..and this overinflated house market means that we sell for a shitload more than we bought it for, buy a brand new, never been lived in home that's bigger than we ever thought imaginable and voila..debts gone. Wow.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
One step forward, two steps back.
UGH!!!!!! I feel like I've been sucker punched and had all the wind knocked out of my lungs. Every time something positive happens, something negative comes along to take all the joy out of the good. Every. Single. Time! My mental health is not enjoying this roller coaster right now.
So, we sold this house. This was a good thing. Two days after we had signed, I had made my mental peace with the fact that we are going. I disengaged myself from this house. From my awesome kitchen. From everything I'd loved (and loathed) about the place. Ready to move on.
The buyers had met abover our price which was good. They paid an awesome deposit to show their good faith and I was thinking..'sweet..rings back!' They had a three day cooling off period, which passed without fault.. and they had to get a building and pest inspection done inside of 7 days. That was yesterday.
So. The inspection revealed that we have some termites in a pile of wood (which I had no idea was there.. builders' fault??). They are not in the structure of the house. Just in this pile of wood. The buyers are FREAKING OUT. They want to break the contract, yada, yada, yada.. Now, I'm no legal expert, but the contract does say that the termites have to be IN the house. Does under constitute in?
The thought of going back to square one and having daily Opens is enough to make me want to poke my eyes out. I feel sick to my stomach. FUCK!!!!! If this sale shits itself, we have lost the place in Kyneton. Don't tell me something better will come around.. I don't want to hear it.
I just see myself stuck in this fucking place, with no fucking money to pull out, tied up because of a mistake I didn't make. Really, termites? WTF!? Go pick on someone else. Someone who can afford to deal with you.
It's 10:30am. I want to get drunk. I want to smoke. I just want out of this prison. The only thing keeping my sanity is the 3 little dudes who depend on my sanity to keep them happy.
So, we sold this house. This was a good thing. Two days after we had signed, I had made my mental peace with the fact that we are going. I disengaged myself from this house. From my awesome kitchen. From everything I'd loved (and loathed) about the place. Ready to move on.
The buyers had met abover our price which was good. They paid an awesome deposit to show their good faith and I was thinking..'sweet..rings back!' They had a three day cooling off period, which passed without fault.. and they had to get a building and pest inspection done inside of 7 days. That was yesterday.
So. The inspection revealed that we have some termites in a pile of wood (which I had no idea was there.. builders' fault??). They are not in the structure of the house. Just in this pile of wood. The buyers are FREAKING OUT. They want to break the contract, yada, yada, yada.. Now, I'm no legal expert, but the contract does say that the termites have to be IN the house. Does under constitute in?
The thought of going back to square one and having daily Opens is enough to make me want to poke my eyes out. I feel sick to my stomach. FUCK!!!!! If this sale shits itself, we have lost the place in Kyneton. Don't tell me something better will come around.. I don't want to hear it.
I just see myself stuck in this fucking place, with no fucking money to pull out, tied up because of a mistake I didn't make. Really, termites? WTF!? Go pick on someone else. Someone who can afford to deal with you.
It's 10:30am. I want to get drunk. I want to smoke. I just want out of this prison. The only thing keeping my sanity is the 3 little dudes who depend on my sanity to keep them happy.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Recovery
So yeah. Last week was fucked up. The Chrysler cost us a pretty penny. I sold my wedding rings. I sold my mother's wedding rings. I pretty much sold my soul to be honest. Life doesn't get much lower than it did last Monday. It was ugly. And I am not proud of myself. But I have a car that works now and a way to transport my family around.
The house went live on Thursday and we had 8 people through over the weekend. More are coming today. We had an offer on Saturday night, but it was too low, so we didn't accept. The house in the street behind us sold at auction for $490K and it was a shitbox. I hope to get at least that in a worst case scenario.
I have to say, this place looks amazing. Benny has done an outstanding job on the stairwell (and I seriously don't want to know how he did it.. I have images of Spiderman in my head as it is!) and I'm patting myself on the back too for a job well done. Now, let's get this place sold!
Yesterday, I visited my brother's house, our childhood home, for the last time. It's being smacked down later on this week. I went through each room and let the memories wash over me. I could hear mum in the kitchen, see her in the bedroom, the bathroom, the lounge... I could hear her voice echoing through the empty corridoors. I wrote on the wall of my bedroom. I checked the wardrobe one last time for my carvings. I said goodbye to my childhood and goodbye to my mother's whispers and then I sat in the car and I cried.
This year is writing the end of this chapter of my life. A change is coming. And it's going to be good.
The house went live on Thursday and we had 8 people through over the weekend. More are coming today. We had an offer on Saturday night, but it was too low, so we didn't accept. The house in the street behind us sold at auction for $490K and it was a shitbox. I hope to get at least that in a worst case scenario.
I have to say, this place looks amazing. Benny has done an outstanding job on the stairwell (and I seriously don't want to know how he did it.. I have images of Spiderman in my head as it is!) and I'm patting myself on the back too for a job well done. Now, let's get this place sold!
Yesterday, I visited my brother's house, our childhood home, for the last time. It's being smacked down later on this week. I went through each room and let the memories wash over me. I could hear mum in the kitchen, see her in the bedroom, the bathroom, the lounge... I could hear her voice echoing through the empty corridoors. I wrote on the wall of my bedroom. I checked the wardrobe one last time for my carvings. I said goodbye to my childhood and goodbye to my mother's whispers and then I sat in the car and I cried.
This year is writing the end of this chapter of my life. A change is coming. And it's going to be good.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
A pox on your house!
So, this morning, it became quite obvious that Benny has full blown Chicken Pox. UGH! His face looks like a hormonal teenage boy's, but his back, torso, arms and legs are fully covered. It's not pretty. So, guess what? He scores a week home from work! WIN! And if he feels well enough.. he can sand and polish the floors. Mwahahaha..
The other side of the coin would be that he feels absolutely shitful and takes to his bed for a week. That would really screw the pooch.
In other exciting news, we spent $826 on the Chrysler on Friday, getting it serviced... and the damn thing shit itself on the way home from E's party on Sunday. The engine light came on and you know that's never a good thing. I got home in one piece, but had to give up on the shopping.
We took it back to the shop this morning and they ran a diagnostic on it and said it could be either one of two things. 1) It's really going to shit itself and most likely at an inopportune time.. or 2) It's just fucking with us and nothing is wrong. I don't think I appreciate the Chrysler's humour either way.
So people.. this is the week. We're supposed to be finished with the house renos, painting, sanding, etc by the end of the week.. Let's see if we do it, now that the odds are stacked against us.
The other side of the coin would be that he feels absolutely shitful and takes to his bed for a week. That would really screw the pooch.
In other exciting news, we spent $826 on the Chrysler on Friday, getting it serviced... and the damn thing shit itself on the way home from E's party on Sunday. The engine light came on and you know that's never a good thing. I got home in one piece, but had to give up on the shopping.
We took it back to the shop this morning and they ran a diagnostic on it and said it could be either one of two things. 1) It's really going to shit itself and most likely at an inopportune time.. or 2) It's just fucking with us and nothing is wrong. I don't think I appreciate the Chrysler's humour either way.
So people.. this is the week. We're supposed to be finished with the house renos, painting, sanding, etc by the end of the week.. Let's see if we do it, now that the odds are stacked against us.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Oh so tired
and over all the painting. Benny is really starting to give me the shits with his pedantic way of doing things. This was supposed to be a quick slap of paint to freshen the place up, not a nit picking, fault finding, cover all job! He drives me to drink, I swear.
I've painted for 7 days straight now and I'm sooooo fucking tired. My whole body aches. Seriously, if I didn't have Per coming home to find fault and redo, I'd have finished the whole bloody thing by now.. GRR!
So..this is procrastinating. I should be painting. Sigrid is in Kinder, Tove asleep and Jonah about to have a nap. Prime painting time awaits..UGH!
I've painted for 7 days straight now and I'm sooooo fucking tired. My whole body aches. Seriously, if I didn't have Per coming home to find fault and redo, I'd have finished the whole bloody thing by now.. GRR!
So..this is procrastinating. I should be painting. Sigrid is in Kinder, Tove asleep and Jonah about to have a nap. Prime painting time awaits..UGH!
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Painting Hell
Sweet Jesus. Whoever said painting was fun, obviously never had a house full of pink cornices to paint. My arms ache, my back aches, I'm tired and I all I really want to do is sit on my fat arse and knit for a while!
We're on a deadline. We have to get this house freshly painted within the next two weeks, so that we meet the time frame to purchase the place in Kyneton. I'm really hoping it works out in our favour. But this means two torturous weeks of non stop painting. Throw in a Chicken Pox, a cold, a Confirmation and a Communion as well and that about sums up our busy schedule.
I will be so glad when this is done. And I will have earnt myself a yarn spree. Oh yes, indeedy!
We're on a deadline. We have to get this house freshly painted within the next two weeks, so that we meet the time frame to purchase the place in Kyneton. I'm really hoping it works out in our favour. But this means two torturous weeks of non stop painting. Throw in a Chicken Pox, a cold, a Confirmation and a Communion as well and that about sums up our busy schedule.
I will be so glad when this is done. And I will have earnt myself a yarn spree. Oh yes, indeedy!
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Mother's can't get sick
So Monday rolled on and saw me incapacitated with what I thought was a headcold. Uh..no. By midday, I had the sweats, the chills, nausea, headache and the body aches that just wouldn't quit. I needed to lie down, but I had Tweedledee and Tweedledum being absolute terrors to each other and poxy boy was no help.
I had thought of keeping everyone home, so I could remain in a vegatative state all day, but sadly, that was not meant to be. A quick glance at the calander showed that it was Freja's retreat day up at Auxillium College, a day of reflection and pondering on life's big questions before she makes her confirmation in two weeks.. so fuck it.. she had to go to school.
After coming back home, as if by magic, the kids transformed into wilderbeasts and knew that I was unable to deal with them. I had toys strewn from arsehole to breakfast... there was no way I could lie down.
With snot dripping, I started the washing machine, got the dishwasher sorted, folded laundry and then vaccuumed (which almost killed me). Per sent me a text at lunch, to which I sarcastically replied that all was under control. The sarcasm was lost on him...he took me at my word.
I got hotdogs out for dinner..no gourmet cuisine tonight! And then, I hit my wall. Per arrived home to sparkling bathrooms, clean floors, happy children but a grumpy wife. GRR..
I took to bed and spent the next 24 hours there.. and now that I have been reanimated, I can see that the house is a fucking nightmare. Yes, the children are alive.. somewhere.. in all the mess..
I had thought of keeping everyone home, so I could remain in a vegatative state all day, but sadly, that was not meant to be. A quick glance at the calander showed that it was Freja's retreat day up at Auxillium College, a day of reflection and pondering on life's big questions before she makes her confirmation in two weeks.. so fuck it.. she had to go to school.
After coming back home, as if by magic, the kids transformed into wilderbeasts and knew that I was unable to deal with them. I had toys strewn from arsehole to breakfast... there was no way I could lie down.
With snot dripping, I started the washing machine, got the dishwasher sorted, folded laundry and then vaccuumed (which almost killed me). Per sent me a text at lunch, to which I sarcastically replied that all was under control. The sarcasm was lost on him...he took me at my word.
I got hotdogs out for dinner..no gourmet cuisine tonight! And then, I hit my wall. Per arrived home to sparkling bathrooms, clean floors, happy children but a grumpy wife. GRR..
I took to bed and spent the next 24 hours there.. and now that I have been reanimated, I can see that the house is a fucking nightmare. Yes, the children are alive.. somewhere.. in all the mess..
Saturday, July 31, 2010
What is God telling me?
So, we are Catholics. Don't hold it against me. God sees me as a challenge, I am sure. I swear like a sailor, I sin daily....but hey, I took the 'Go forth and procreate' at its word.
Now, this year, we've had several big religious things come up. Tove's baptism in May, and now Gabriel's 1st Communion tomorrow and Freja's Confirmation in two weeks. But it seems that a higher force is fucking with us. I got gastro on the night before Tove's baptism and couldn't attend...and now..the day before Gabriel's 1st Communion, he has come down with, what appears to be CHICKEN POX.
Fuck. Me. Swinging. The brand new suit is hanging in the cupboard. His shoes have been polished and he's practiced his readings.. He is good to go. But it looks like we won't be going ahead with it tomorrow. And this makes him very sad. His Mass was the last group to go through..this is it.. there is no do over.
So, tomorrow I will speak to the priest and see what he recommends. After all, there are only two boys making their first communion tomorrow night.. and perhaps.. yes perhaps.. that other boy has already had Chicken Pox. Wouldn't that be something? Screw the rest of the congregation though..
Now, if you are psychic like me (or just the world's biggest pessimist) you will see where this is going. You will already have done the math. That's right. In two weeks, Freja has her confirmation. Yup.. perfect incubation period of 14 motherfucking days..
Watch this space.
Now, this year, we've had several big religious things come up. Tove's baptism in May, and now Gabriel's 1st Communion tomorrow and Freja's Confirmation in two weeks. But it seems that a higher force is fucking with us. I got gastro on the night before Tove's baptism and couldn't attend...and now..the day before Gabriel's 1st Communion, he has come down with, what appears to be CHICKEN POX.
Fuck. Me. Swinging. The brand new suit is hanging in the cupboard. His shoes have been polished and he's practiced his readings.. He is good to go. But it looks like we won't be going ahead with it tomorrow. And this makes him very sad. His Mass was the last group to go through..this is it.. there is no do over.
So, tomorrow I will speak to the priest and see what he recommends. After all, there are only two boys making their first communion tomorrow night.. and perhaps.. yes perhaps.. that other boy has already had Chicken Pox. Wouldn't that be something? Screw the rest of the congregation though..
Now, if you are psychic like me (or just the world's biggest pessimist) you will see where this is going. You will already have done the math. That's right. In two weeks, Freja has her confirmation. Yup.. perfect incubation period of 14 motherfucking days..
Watch this space.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Stress
My stress levels are through the roof. I have a superkalafragalistik headache that won't quit. I look around and see all the stuff that needs doing, and I can't take it on myself. Not while I have three little kids to look after during the day. It's impossible.
I don't think we're going to get this place in Kyneton. That's the pessimist in me coming out. It's on the market now (although the paperwork is not complete so they can't accept offers for another couple of weeks!) Our place is not on the market. We're not even close to ready.
We have the painting to be done, the lounge floor to be sanded and polished, the blinds on the bottom level to be installed.. it's not going to happen overnight, is it?
On the bright side, the kids are enrolled in schools there and they think they look wonderful. It's very exciting for them. I feel positive about that.. but not about our house.
In the meantime, the purge continues. I have a metric fucktonne of shit I have to get rid of (and that includes furniture!) because I am not schlepping it all to Kyneton with us. No way.
I don't think we're going to get this place in Kyneton. That's the pessimist in me coming out. It's on the market now (although the paperwork is not complete so they can't accept offers for another couple of weeks!) Our place is not on the market. We're not even close to ready.
We have the painting to be done, the lounge floor to be sanded and polished, the blinds on the bottom level to be installed.. it's not going to happen overnight, is it?
On the bright side, the kids are enrolled in schools there and they think they look wonderful. It's very exciting for them. I feel positive about that.. but not about our house.
In the meantime, the purge continues. I have a metric fucktonne of shit I have to get rid of (and that includes furniture!) because I am not schlepping it all to Kyneton with us. No way.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
And breathe...
I swear to God, the pace of life around here is just unbefuckingleivable. When I get up in the morning, I make sure I do it a half hour before the masses descend for breakfast.. just for that holy half an hour of peace. Once they're all up.. it's full steam ahead.
I hate the fact that the school demands my kids be there at 8:45am. It pisses me off that they consider a 9am arrival as late.. WTF? As we live out of district, this means we have to leave here by 8:15am.. which is all good and dandy.. but Tove wakes up at 8am. Today, we stooped to an all time low when I didn't have time to breastfeed, so Freja stretched out in the Chrysler and fed Tove a bottle on the go. Jesus H Christ!
Don't even start me on the after school activities. I crunch nuts with my arsehole every time I have to drive to ballet or swimming or cadets!
Tomorrow I have Swedish school to teach. Another day of stress levels through the roof. I'm over it people.. well and truly.
The move to Kyneton become more appealing with every passing day.
I hate the fact that the school demands my kids be there at 8:45am. It pisses me off that they consider a 9am arrival as late.. WTF? As we live out of district, this means we have to leave here by 8:15am.. which is all good and dandy.. but Tove wakes up at 8am. Today, we stooped to an all time low when I didn't have time to breastfeed, so Freja stretched out in the Chrysler and fed Tove a bottle on the go. Jesus H Christ!
Don't even start me on the after school activities. I crunch nuts with my arsehole every time I have to drive to ballet or swimming or cadets!
Tomorrow I have Swedish school to teach. Another day of stress levels through the roof. I'm over it people.. well and truly.
The move to Kyneton become more appealing with every passing day.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
The wheels are in motion
I spent most of the day on the phone today, organising school transfers, secondary college enrolments and kindergarten placements. I was on FIRE! I made a new BFF, the secretary of the primary school turned out to be a wealth of information, so I really hit paydirt there.
I feel excited. I feel hopeful. I feel this is the beginning of something very positive for my family.
I feel excited. I feel hopeful. I feel this is the beginning of something very positive for my family.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Whoops, I did it again.
Please, please, please let me not be pregnant this month! This is not the month for me to have got it wrong! I'm really hoping that I tracked my cycle right this time...and I'm hoping that my thermometer is giving me accurate temps. This morning's temperature was a little lower than my other post O temps and that concerned me a little. I really hope I got it right.
The hunt for a vagina frisbee in my size has proved fruitless so far. It seems to be an archaic form of BC. Too bad for all those women who can't use condoms or hormonal birth control. Is this why Michelle Duggar has 18 kids?
So, roll on two week wait...be quick and painless.
The hunt for a vagina frisbee in my size has proved fruitless so far. It seems to be an archaic form of BC. Too bad for all those women who can't use condoms or hormonal birth control. Is this why Michelle Duggar has 18 kids?
So, roll on two week wait...be quick and painless.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Deflated
Sometimes, it doesn't matter how hard you want something to happen, it just doesn't pan out for you. It has nothing to do with how much you wanted it, how hard you worked, how much you saved, how much you needed it.. it just shits itself regardless.
Sometimes, the best laid plans will not work out in your favour, no matter how much you want them to.
It doesn't mean you deserved it any less.
And this is the gospel according to Bitterswede. Can I have an Amen?
Sometimes, the best laid plans will not work out in your favour, no matter how much you want them to.
It doesn't mean you deserved it any less.
And this is the gospel according to Bitterswede. Can I have an Amen?
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