Sleepless Nights

Blog

  • Open letter to the lady in the blue top

    Dear lady in the blue top eating lunch at Eastlands today.

    Hi. I was sitting just behind you with my partner and our baby. I don’t even think you noticed me, you were interested in eating your lunch and talking with your friend. I’m thankful for that, truly I am.

    I was eating my lunch and sharing bits with my wiggly son. Eventually he cracked the shits with his stroller and started throwing food around. So I did what anyone would do in my situation, I gave up on solid food and breastfed him instead. He must have been thirsty, as he wiggled and snuffled and drank like a parched baby.

    This is where you came in.

    You see, when my son decided he was finished with his feed, he grabbed my breast and ripped it out of his mouth, giving it a squeeze for good measure. I had no control over this mind you, I didn’t make him do it.

    In the middle of him giving my breast a good squeeze, I may possibly have shot a single line of milk in an arc. I watched, horrified, as it landed on your back. I could almost see the line where it hit.

    So, dear lady in the blue shirt, I’m really really sorry. I didn’t mean to squirt you with breastmilk and I would have apologised if I thought you’d realised. As it was, some things are probably better left unknown.

    But if you so happen to be one of my blog readers (unlikely, but it could happen) please accept my sincere apologies. You didn’t need a milk bath. I didn’t need to watch it arc across the food court, hoping like fuck no one else saw. It seems I was safe and the only one who noticed.

    I still feel bad though.

    Regards,

    The lady in the grey shirt, sitting behind you with the wiggly baby.

    ***

    In other news, the 2009 Weblog award nominations are open. Go over and nominate your favourite blogs in their categories and nominate yourself while you’re there.

    And, if you’re so interested, I did an interview over at Murray Newlands’ blog. You can find it here.

  • Yesterday…

    Yesterday was shit.

    Even though Isaac standing up on everything was very cute, it was slightly less cute when he used my ponytail to haul himself to standing. Once there, he tried to remain standing, using my eye sockets. He’s very um, grabby. And his grabby hurts. Sometimes I’d just like to put mittens on him so he can’t keep trying to claw me to bits.

    Add the grabbing, standing, falling and clawing to a lovely tummy bug and Isaac was miserable yesterday.

    So was I actually, as I ran backwards and forward to the toilet, retching all the way. I think I’m better today, thanks to some anti-nausea drugs and a few panadeine fortes.

    Sigh.

    Then, on top of Isaac and I being sick, Amy got into some flour. You ask why I’m keeping wheat flour in the house, knowing that Amy has gluten issues? Well I’m baking a wedding cake remember? I can’t throw it out until December.

    She finger painted with my foundation. She poured water into Nathan’s tobacco. She smeared herself in honey.She also screamed like a banshee and wailed and cried and I think she might have spun her head around in circles at some point.

    I popped her into the shower to clean off and when she got out I rubbed her dry and sat her on my lap to have a talk about why we don’t play in the honey/foundation/tobacco/flour.

    She wee’d on me.

    All over my lap.

    I might have cracked the shits just a little. She was sent to bed while I got my head back together.

    There were other various assorted things but oh my god, I was ready for bedtime. Unfortunately, the actual falling asleep didn’t happen until 2 hours after bedtime and I didn’t keep count of how many times I had to put her back to bed.

    Sigh.

    Dear Saturday. I want a do over. You sucked.

    Dear Sunday. I know our morning has had a rocky start, but I’d like if you were better than yesterday. Please.

    Update: Sunday, you’re not playing nice. It would be better if Isaac and I were no longer sick. Also, a little less energy for Amy would be fine. And less naughty. I’m sick of the naughty.

    ***

    You know, to make me feel better, you could head on over and press like on THIS photo for a competition I’m in? If the link doesn’t work properly, mine is the photo of Barbie and Chuck. The page it’s on is a Fan Page, not my page, so you don’t need to be a friend to like it, although you may need to be a fan. I’m not sure.

    I’d love you forever.

    Promise.

  • Oh dear.

    Isaac standing. 10mths

    Just oh dear.

    He pulled up on the couch for the first time a few days ago. It was a wobbly start with plenty of falls. Today though, he has his feet sorted and he is upright and standing at every opportunity. Even if the only thing to pull up on is my hair, he is managing it.

    He’s still so tiny! He’s meant to be my baby, not my upright mobile toddler.

    Shit.

    ***

    Update: In other news, remember that ChupaChup challenge I did a few weeks back? I would love it if you could head over HERE and give me a thumbs up? (It’s a facebook photo). In case the link decides to stop working (Facebooks permalinks are really odd) mine is the photo with Barbie in it.

    Please?

  • Happy Birthday To Me!

    Today I went out to lunch with Mum, a day before my birthday. We went for sushi MINUS the children and oh, it was lovely.

    Why, you might ask, didn’t we go out tomorrow on my actual birthday? Well tomorrow (today by the time I finish typing this, as it’s 11.53pm and Amy has just woken again) I reserve for sleeping in late (if I make it to 9am, I’ll be pleased), eating cheese and biscuits (well, rice crackers, but whatever), demanding foot rubs at every opportunity and generally overusing parentheses.

    I’m going to be spending tomorrow doing not a lot of anything.

    Except maybe playing with my new 50mm lens that was my birthday present from Mum. Yay!

    Anyway, I had a lovely day.

    Right up until Mum dropped me back off at Nathan’s parent’s house, where Nathan and the children were camping out and we tried to head home.

    The car started perfectly at their house. Truly it did.

    Then Nathan noticed that our speedo wasn’t working. Suddenly we’d lost 1st gear and the car was feeling sick. 5 minutes out, we’d pulled over to baby the car back to health. Nathan added more transmission fluid (which we’d only topped up the other day), more coolant, more everything.

    The universe had other ideas though and suddenly we went from a car that was sick, but running, to a car that wouldn’t start.

    Did I mention we were in a tiny little car park, having pulled off the highway?

    Heh.

    Anyway, the calvalry came and rescued us, to the tune of Mum coming to collect us and Nathan’s brother showing up to help Nathan get the car running again. The kids and I followed Nathan home in Mum’s car and nothing untoward happened. Needless to say, it was a stressful way to end the day, but ah well. We’re home now and I’ve got a car I can kick when I get frustrated because the stupid fucking  thing is broken and needs more money than it’s worth to fix it. Sigh.

    Sigh. Again.

    BUT! Today I turn 21! I suppose I’m officially allowed to get drunk in the US and other assorted countries, despite my own letting me drink 3 years ago. (We won’t talk about all the underage drinking I did while I was working, ahem)

    And to celebrate, I thought I’d share some photos I took today.

    Because I’m 21 now and I can. So there.

    Veronica

    Sushi Lunch

    Dessert

    Coffee Jelly

    Shush. I may possibly have been enjoying snapping photos of the food. Not with the 50mm though, that was bought after we had lunch. I’m already craving more sushi.

    November 11 - Amy

    Laughing

    Oh yes. And how the day ended:

    Broken Car

  • On words, or the lack thereof

    I can’t talk about it anymore. The grief, it is crushing and although I laugh and smile, I can’t breathe. Often, I have to remind myself to keep breathing, to keep moving, otherwise I’d be found, struck dumb with tears streaming down my face. Unmoving and uncaring.

    I cope  by moving through my moments without thinking about it. If I consciously don’t think about her, then I can move through my day without hurting.

    Then

    something will happen.

    And the enormity of what we’ve lost hits me like a truck with no brakes.

    Loss is forever and I think that is the hardest part. That this is forever. There are no undos, no fixing this. I can’t make this better because I can’t bring her back.

    I said after she died that I didn’t regret anything I had done or not done. That I was at peace with her passing. I told her I loved her lots on that last day.

    I think I lied.

    Because

    I regret that she died at all. That we didn’t have longer. That she was in pain.

    In the future, we will have a cure for cancer. It might not be for a hundred years, but in the future there will be a cure. Future generations will look back and wonder how we managed to lose so many people to cancer. They will wonder how we didn’t crack the code sooner, in order to save more lives.

    But it will be like us, looking back on the invention of antibiotics. We know that we’re lucky, but we don’t realise how lucky we are. We’re not likely to die from a simple cut anymore. A puncture wound is not going to be our death.

    In the future, Cancer will be like that.

    I hope it is sooner than we believe.

    But until then, we will support the research. We will donate money and time and good humour. We will do what needs doing, even if that means we hold the hand of a loved one while they’re dying.

    We do this, hoping that in the future, our children’s children won’t have to go through it.

    Because god knows, I wouldn’t wish cancer on anyone.