FFS Friday/Things I Know - Hospital Woes

It’s been a massive week, what with Boo’s operation on Tuesday and all – left me plenty to FFS about, and I now know a few new things, too!

My mother met us at 5.30 on Tuesday morning so we could be at the hospital by 7.30. This meant I was awake at 4.45am. FFS

Boo was so keyed up about everything that she didn’t sleep. Guess who went Mum’s car for the 2-hour trip? No FFS

Having no-one in the car meant I could listen to podcasts and concentrate on driving in the pea-soup fog without ‘Mummy….’ No FFS

There was mild panic at the hospital when I was convinced I’d left my wallet at home. FFS

Boo and her cat 'Didero' wrapped up in her blankie

 

I hadn’t. My handbag had just eaten it. FFS

The nurses on the ward were just lovely to us, and made Boo feel really special. I’d taken a lot of care to make sure she wasn’t apprehensive beforehand, and they were gems about perpetuating this. No FFS

I know, without a doubt in my mind, that Paediatric nurses are a special breed of amazing.

Pre-Op

I was allowed to go with Boo when she was anaesthetised, and watching her little head loll as she went under was a bit of a shock. Actually, a lot of a shock. I burst into tears. FFS

Turns out a tonsillectomy only takes about 20 minutes. I’d barely started reading my book when they were fetching me to go into recovery. No FFS 

At least I’d stayed in the waiting room. One mother had the impression it was a 1.5hour procedure and left to get a coffee. FFS 

Her little Miss 3 was beside herself when I got into recovery. FFS

Boo, on the other hand, took one look at me and went back to sleep…Not sure if this is a FFS or not!

She smashed an icy pole and charmed the nurses before we went back to the ward.

My brave girl.

I know that my Boo is a freakin’ superstar. Not one tear out of her during the scary bits!

When we got back to the ward, Boo realised there was now a drip in her hand. FFS

She said it was hurting, and the nurses told her it wasn’t really that painful. FFS

I spend a fair bit of time in hospital. I know this isn’t quite true. Canulation hurts like a MOFO, no matter what they say. It’s not ‘just an inconvenience’, it’s a piece of plastic hanging out of your hand! FFS

Mum put Boo to rights again by handing over the iPad while she left to do some shopping. No FFS

Cuddles with Gran

I thought I’d try napping while Mum was gone, but the girl in the bed opposite hadn’t handled her operation well and proceeded to throw up and cry loudly for the next hour. FFS

Please don’t think me cold-hearted, I felt for her but I was beyond tired by this point! FFS

Boo intermittently slept, played and hazarded eating until about 6pm when my Mum left. The nurses decided that is was time for Boo to get out of her surgical robe and into her PJ’s.

I know how hard it is to get PJ’s on with a canula in. Boo didn’t. 

Even with a nurse and me helping, she managed to pull it out of her hand. FFS

I knew this before I saw it, she made a hideous gasping sound and burst into tears. FFS

Cue blood. Quite a lot of blood. FFS

She crawled up on me like a koala for cuddles. We hadn’t yet got her PJ pants on. FFS

It took me 15 minutes to calm her down, because she’d heard the nurse say it might have to go back in. FFS

The nurse got hold of a doctor and managed to make an agreement that if Boo drank plenty we wouldn’t need it back in. No FFS

I know how hard it is to get Boo to drink when she doesn’t want to, so we made a plan. She’d be allowed to watch a movie from the ward’s DVD library if she drank half a bottle of water before bed.

I know that movies can fix anything.

Boo slept through the night. I didn’t. FFS

The little girl across from us was awake hourly, screaming and sobbing. Everytime she woke, I was convinced it was Boo so I’d sit bolt-upright in bed panicking. FFS

Not one single time was it her. FFS

She barely woke when the nurses came to do her obs. No FFS

Suffice to say, by the time Mum rang at 6am to say she was running late, I was a wreck. FFS

Boo woke up at 7.30 am sooky and sore. FFS

She didn’t want to eat breakfast, but if she didn’t we weren’t allowed to go home. FFS

Mum got her to eat half a piece of toast. I maintain getting a little girl who just had her tonsils removed to eat toast is just plain mean. FFS

We were allowed to leave in the morning. No FFS

Mum took Boo, so I detoured past our house for a quick shower before I had to get Diddy from my grandparents. No FFS

Husbeast had smothered the fire (our only heat) with a gigantic log, so the house was effing FREEZING. FFS!

Diddy was a snotty, teething and sick mess when I picked her up. FFS

This is what I came home to. FFS

I know that two sick kids amounts to 18 times the work of one. FFS

Thanks again for joining me! I'm linking up with Sarah for FFS Friday at Move Fuel Love, Ann for Things I Know at Help!! I'm Stuck, and Grace for Flog Yo' Blog Friday at With Some Grace. 

I Have a Dream....

‘...a song to sing. To help me cope with anything’.

Anyone else hear this in their head when they think about having a dream? Especially the Amanda Seyfreid version from Mama Mia. No? Just me then, I guess. Move along, nothing weird here.

This movie is perfect to me, every single time.
Image Source

I have a dream occasionally that one day I’ll wake up completely put-together.

You know what I mean, don’t you? Flawless hair, impeccable dress sense and mad skills with makeup, yes. 

But beyond that (and aside from it, really) I dream fervently about being the mum who does it all flawlessly. The mum who breezes out of bed, readies her husband and sends him to work smiling with a belly full of homestyle cookin’ and a lunchbox full of healthy homemade snacks, prepares the kids for school/daycare – again with the excellent food. Cruises to school with all homework complete, helps out in the canteen, comes home and plays with the baby undistractedly for hours. The mum who spends naptime giving her sparklingly clean house a quick once-over and then has a lunch date with friends before going to school pickup and heading home to prepare a thoughtfully planned, nutritionally beneficial meal, clean and tuck in her kids before relaxing with her husband. I dream of doing it all alone, with no snags or flaws, and without tears of pleas for help.

I’m not that mum. If she exists, I want to know about it, because I want to pull her perfectly-coiffed hair and tell her she’s a liar.

This bitch... seriously.
Image Source

My dream isn’t going to come true. I’m the mum who isn’t getting out of bed at 5am to get her husband ready for work (seriously, he’s on his own there). I’m the mum fighting the kindergartner to eat her breakfast while the baby flings porridge at my head, at the same time realising we forgot the reader last night and I’ve run out of lunch muffins. I’m the mum who remembers canteen duty 20 minutes before it starts, on a day when I don’t have a babysitter ready. The mum who’s barely left her house in weeks, and hasn’t had a social life in months. I’m the mum who realises at 6pm that she hasn’t defrosted dinner and makes bacon and egg salad, before skipping bathtime and sending the kids to bed so I can have a quick reprieve before the baby wakes.

Maybe if I had animal helpers and a Fairy Godsomeone...
Image Source

My heart wishes my kids had the perfect mum. The one who never misses appointments, who reads endless stories every night and who takes them on educationally enriching, yet entertaining trips every weekend. But my head knows the truth about me and the truth about my kids. My head knows that I get to watch them grow, and be their mummy, and that's enough. My head is grateful.

I’m never going to be the put together mum, because it’s not me. I’m the slightly scatty mum wearing yoga pants everywhere. But I’m also the only mum my kids have. I’m the one who kisses their scrapes, smooths away their troubles, plays games with them, cuddles them every single night and generally takes care of them. I’m the one who makes sure they never go hungry, even if occasionally they eat a 2 minute noodle omelette. I’m the one who will always be there. 

I may not be the perfect mum, and how the hell can I be? She’s a myth! But I’m their perfect mum, put together just enough for them. A dream is just a fantasy. I should just be happy I do the best I can. Because in reality? I do OK.

'I'll cross the stream, I have a dream.'

  I'm linking this post with Musings of the Misguided for this week's The Lounge, and also with A Parenting Life for Thankful Thursday. Pop over to visit and find some more fab blogs to read?

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Just a Few Hours

I experienced Mummy Nirvana on Saturday. 

At 8am, I jumped out of bed, did my makeup, got dressed, jumped in the car….and left my kids and husband at home. For 5 hours.

It….was…BLISS!

As mums, I know we’re not really meant to admit that running away is our fantasy, but be honest, occasionally we all have that dream of being single and kid-free. Saturday was the closest I’ll ever come to living that dream, and I’m not ashamed to say that I loved every second of it. 

Here’s the honest to goodness truth: I went out to do the groceries. A few months ago, Husbeast and I did the sums and worked out that if we go to the nearest major shopping town 45 minutes away and make use of Aldi, the green grocers and she bulk butchery, it’s cheaper even with the travel costs than doing our grocery shopping at the local Woolworths, so these days we head there a minimum of once a fortnight. Normally, we all go together on a Sunday, but after two weeks of school holidays I’d had about enough. I needed a few hours on my own, and so Husbeast was on parenting details with no choice.

For those curious, I wrapped it up in the big pretty bow of ‘the Easter Bunny needs to finish shopping and he can’t do it with Boo watching’. Why yes, I am a genius.

I wanted to play my music loud in the car and sing at the top of my lungs. I wanted to buy clothes, and browse Priceline for a few choice makeup items. I wanted to be the one picking Boo’s clothes without her arguing and wanting trashy crap I wasn’t willing to pay for. I wanted so badly not to change a nappy, make a bottle, have an argument or say ‘No, I’ve already said no to that!’ for just a few hours! Is that so wrong?

Apparently so.

I got Mummy shamed for my time away. The disgruntled Aldi guy (why are they so damn sour? The get it better than a LOT of other supermarket workers!) asked why I looked so happy to be grocery shopping. I told him that I was relaxing and having some kid-free time and got told (by the lady behind me) that ‘your children are a blessing, be thankful for them and not for being without them’. It took all my strength to reply with a reserved ‘they’re spending time with their Daddy so Mummy can relax.’

How very dare she? When did being a mother mean I ceased being a person with needs? Why can’t I have, and relish, a few hours away without being made to feel guilty? My kids were safe and looked after, Husbeast was happy to be with them and I needed that time out. It recharged my batteries so I can be a good mother for another few weeks.

What I wanted to say to the lady and her opinion was ‘Go fuck yourself. Until you live my life don’t you judge my choices, how dare you?’ I wanted to detail the assorted school holiday tantrums, the teething, crawling, standing and falling dramas, the ins and outs of separated parenting and my manipulative, slightly unpleasant stepson and make her understand that my job is hard as fuck and I deserve a rest. But I didn’t. Four years ago, as a very young, very single mother, I would have. But now, I know that her archaic opinion doesn’t matter. She’s from a different time, and it’s possibly a very, very long time since she was a stay at home mother. Likely she never had step-drama or chronic illness and me unloading on her isn’t going to open her eyes or mind, it’d just waste my breath and upset me. 

Instead, I took a deep breath, said ‘thankyou’, paid for my groceries and came home to love on my kids and husband. And as I drove home, singing at the top of my lungs, I reminded myself of one thing:

It’s not selfish to take a few hours for yourself. It’s necessary.

It's Tuesday and I'm joining up with Essentially Jess for I Blog On Tuesdays. Pop over and read a few of the other awesome blogs linked there!

Diddy at 2 Months

Time flies when you’re sleep deprived!! Miss Diddy hit the 2 month milestone on Saturday, and things have definitely changed in the past month!

Two weeks ago, we discovered that my breastmilk wasn’t providing adequate nourishment for our little princess. She wasn’t gaining any weight, and was breastfeeding 17-20 hours per day just to have enough sustenance to survive on. Following this, I made the decision to switch her to full formula feeding and since then we haven’t looked back. She’s gained over a kilogram in those two weeks (as opposed to 280g in the 7 week prior) and is now fat, happy and on track. She goes nuts when she sees that bottle aimed her way, it’s pretty awesome to see!!

Pre-weight gain. Skinny little chicken with great big eyes
Photo by Captured Momentz Photography

Diddy smiles freely now at anyone who glances her way, but she reserves the biggest, brightest smiles for her big sister. If I put her in the swing and turn away to do something, I’ll hear Boo saying ‘Happy Smiles!’ and look around to find her parked in front of the swing and the two girls grinning at one another. She’s learning, slowly, how to laugh too. She laughs a lot in her sleep, which swings between precious when we’re awake and watching, and creepy when we’re asleep and hear her from the next room.

My two beautiful babies.
Another wonderful image by Captured Momentz Photography

After weeks and weeks of screaming baths, trying desperately to make bathing her in her change table tub work, Husbeast and I started jumping in the big bath with her, one of us cuddling and one support person fetching, carrying and holding the towel. Doing this has made bathtime her favourite. She kicks and laughs, tries to swim and revels in the precious time, as do her Mummy and Daddy.

Diddy has found her voice the last few days and loves to coo and chat to anyone interested in a conversation. She loves lying in her pram gurgling away to herself, her monkey, her reflection in her pram mirror and me. We walk for around an hour each day and thanks to the bassinet attachment on my Strider, she can doze, play and enjoy the time with lots of toys and comfort close at hand.

Making out with her glow worm....Why can't I produce normal children?

She’s also slowly finding her hands. Under her playgym she can now hit at her toys deliberately so they move and if you pop a squeaky friend near her, she can make them squeak herself by hitting or grasping them. She gets the most beautiful smug look on her face afterwards!

Sophie la Giraffe - Chewtoy and occasional lovey

She sleeps in her own bed, in her own room these days. I know they say to sleep a baby in your room, but her room is so close to ours that really, she’s no further away in her room than she was in the corner of ours, and I find Husbeast sleeps better this way. She sleeps between 5 and 9 hours unbroken, depending on the night and what kind of day we’ve had, and her sleeping is meaning I’m a happier, more relaxed Mama.

Babywearing like a Boss - Wasn't smiling like this a few days prior!

All in all, at two months I’m finally relaxing into being a Mum of two (occasionally three). With feeding and sleeping issues under control, I wake most days ready to take on the world and give my girls everything they need from me. And I can’t wait to see what the next day, week and month bring!

Happy 2 Months Imogen!! 

Did you know that I Blog On Tuesdays with Essentially Jess? Pop over and check the link up to read some other fantastic blogs :)