How's your mother?

My head is clear, the coughs are receding into the background and oh my goodness, doesn't it make a difference feeling okay?

A friend of mine yesterday mentioned that this will be the last school holidays where 'Salina will be the only child, and was I doing anything special 1 on 1 with her.

Eeek - I hadn't even thought!!

Where am I going to find such moments? In the 8 days ahead we have cousins in town today, a playdate and softball training tomorrow, I am working Wednesday-Friday, we (including V) anticipate a flying visit to Brisbane over the weekend and the pupil-free day next Monday will be travelling back or recovery!!

I mean, last week we had some real quality mother/daughter times - there was the drive to and from Granite Glen (always fun - except when she is sleeping, which is generally the case on the return because generally she has well and truly worn out the batteries on horses and cousins) and I picked her up from Vacation Care early on Friday.

Right now I am on the computer and she is watching a kids show she NEVER gets to watch the whole way through because the bus arrives - as they say in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, it is about the definition of quality.

Well, okay, Z&TAOMM probably wasn't alluding to domestic excuses AND it has been a few years since I dived into that tome, but I am going to have to work on how to harness quality M/D time from the aspect of definition - because time/money/opportunity isn't as free flowing in this second week of the holidays as is required for the zenith of such experiences.

So her making scrambled eggs for me and only having one slight mishap involving balance, beaters, gravity and yolks fits in to the category of "great Mother/Daughter moments". As does 'Salina spreading mulch while I weeded and pruned. I think the moments of tidying together are priceless, and we did do the groceries together yesterday.

Then I think back to last week - one night she went to other cousins and I stayed with my parents, and then I spent most of the next day with my own mother.

Of course, I was on the computer for the majority of it (real work, not just fluffing around) and she was pottering - but we got to wash up together and the comfort of just being around each other - its nice.

So I wonder - what are great mother/daughter moments for all of you? Is it the moments crafted, the moments stolen, the moments of excess or the moments of mundane?

I would like to announce my return to the real world

However the dust storm on Wednesday started it all off again, and therefore we have interminable coughing from this neck of the woods.

To compound the joy of the moment, 'Salina has her own special variation of it going, a lovely hybrid of what she has had lingering for months and what Mummy has brought to the table.

Oh, and not to miss out on the action, V has just started his version, and we can have the full symphony at some points of the evening.

Vitamin Cs in high demand and a fun September school holidays being enjoyed by all.

Prior to Wednesday, however, things were brighter - we were visiting relatives which meant a great deal of horsely and cousinly activity for 'Salina.

There was a slight amount of hair pulling for me with diminished internet connectivity (not just for my social life - I actually had some work that required a bit of internet - I have the WORST boss in the world, she won't even let me enjoy a holiday. Of course, I could just thumb my nose and resign but as I work for myself I do this regularly and no notice is taken)

Next week I have plans of actually having some school holidays with 'Salina, and then bundle her into care for a few days while I work and prepare for a lightening trip to Brisbane (already overbooked with relatives, friends, school reunions and buying stuff for baby).

Collapsing is on the cards in October.

I hope the world is treating my internet friends well, and I promise to pop by at some point soon.

News from a sn0thead

Apologies for the language folks, but it is me to a T this week - sore throat on Saturday night blown into a fully-fledged lurgy-filled ball of sunshine.

I am sorry I haven't been around others places or even on here to update you - it would have just been part 3 (and maybe 4, 5 and 6) of the previous laments and as I am chronically sick of my own whining, didn't really see the point of extending my personal cloud of doom over the net. Especially when there are others who have far more important things to contemplate right now.

Monday I had a Glucose Tolerance Test in the morning so I could get back in time for 'Salina's violin performance in the Talent Quest (and yes, we need violins for this ongoing saga)..

However, going in to have the Glucose Tolerance Test meant that I missed the school assembly - which would have told me of a change of times for 'Salina's violin performance to the earlier lunch - which of course I missed at I was having a (all sing with me) Glucose Tolerance Test.

Apparently she did quite well - got a 10/10 from one of the judges (and an 8 and a 7) but missed the final by 1 point. This is slightly disappointing, but a relief in one way as it is one less trip to school this week for me (I have been up there 5 times so far this week and will be up there for an hour this morning - where is the "hide from volunteering" door?).

A lot of people have a problem with the Glucose Tolerance Test. The drink has actually improved in the last 10 years, and the drinking the liquid was no problem (and hey, it is halal, kosher AND gluten free!).

The sitting for an hour in an overcrowded 1970s waiting room trying not to cough or sneeze too much, however, was excrutiating. The pathology lab at the hospital shares a waiting room with the dental clinic, and both have reputations for not running to schedule and grumpy patrons. When I say "1970s waiting room" I am not, by the way, referring to a funky retro feel, rather a funky never updated feel. I think the one magazine available to the masses was a little more recent.

As I give blood (when not pregnant) I have no problems being pinned by needles.

Tuesday 'Salina got her stitches removed without a whimper and now has a very neat scar that will no doubt add to her allure.

Wednesday I got the results, and it turns out I am amazingly tolerant - far moreso than the nurse who had the joy of administering an anti-D injection. I am not sure if she had a case of the hump-day blues or it was a bit of an inconvenience, but I got the feeling it was more painful for her to give than it was for me to receive.

Yesterday I was "kokos bez glave", working at home and at school with about equal amounts to show for it at the end of the day - and today I shall be a little the same.

It is break up day today, so the last ever day of Term 3 of Grade 5 for 'Salina. The holidays are 2 weeks long, and until Wednesday they were going to be a great deal of running around with work and family and trying to fit in a day or two of leisure for her, however one work thing changed and now it will be a slightly more relaxed amount of running around with family and work and trying to fit in a day or three of leisure for her.

I am hoping with the whole "holiday" thing, my health and disposition will improve and I will be back on form. Gotta reach for the stars.

There is an ad on here at the moment, advertising "Sleptember" - I am thinking they have a point!!

Have a great Friday, all!!

Comedy of Errors - part deux

So, yesterday had its merits and detractions, but today - today was going to be different.

For a start, I had my car back - and I had my organisational hat on and a to-do list to die for.

In the middle of the day was to be my lunchtime respite - getting to see 'Salina play violin in the Finals of her school's talent quest.

So I was firing this morning - breakfast, tick; washing on, tick; make lunches, tick; go through 'Salina's playlist, tick; get 'Salina on schoolbus, tick; organise work for the day, tick.

The phone rang. It was the school. As I am head honcho for the P & C they required my scrawl for some paperwork - no problem, slot it in to my day's schedule.

Oh yes, you see this whole organisational caboose hurtling along just too well, don't you?

Well, if you don't, fate did.

Not two seconds after hanging up, the phone rang again. It was the school again. Nothing to do with P & C activity, however.

It seems that 'Salina, in putting up something in the classroom had dropped it, hopped off the chair to retrive it, bent down to pick it up and completely failed to navigate the sharp corner of the teacher's desk in her trajectory downwards - in fact, the complete fail took place right on her right eyebrow.

Blood, tears, ice, a phone call to me, a very quick get dressed, look longingly at my shattered schedule and drive (yay car) to the school later I met with my devastated child.

One good thing about a smallish town is the local doctor will say "sure, bring her in" when you regale them with such a tale, and they will shuffle her in between appointments for a quick check.

The quick check resulted in the doctor saying "stitches would be best" and a flood of tears from 'Salina as "she doesn't like needles" - especially the sort that take forever, sting like crazy and numb your face.

Three very neat stitches later, she was back home for me to allow her 1 hour of TLC before depositing her back at school - a balance between indulgence and genuine need to get some work done today.

I had just finished that hour post redeposit of the child, and was having the lunch I prepared earlier before heading back into school for the Talent Quest - I bit in - and immediately spat it out - the tomato tasted disgusting!!!! And as the exact same lunch is packed in 'Salina's bag, I had to ring the school and organise a tuckshop lunch - again - for her.

Anyhow, that brings us up to speed and I want everyone in the world to wish heartily that there WILL BE no part 3 to this little saga...

Off now to see her violinise.

---

Addendum (because otherwise we would be looking at part 2 a and it would all be in reverse)

I went to the school.

I sat on the cement amongst many primary school students.

Performances were set to start at 1.05pm - it kicked off on time.

1. There was a dance with 2 little girls - quite cute, full song length.
2. There was a risque poem with 2 older boys - quite funny (especially when they almost said rude words).
3. There was a dance with 1 very practiced girl - probably lost a little in the costuming choice of school uniform - well performed, full song length.
4. There was a dance routine with 3 older girls - they forgot the music so you had to sort of guess what it was they were dancing to - still went full song length
5. Another dance routine with 3 older boys - basically taking the mick out of all the girls doing dance routines - would have been funnier if it was shorter and had a bit of variety involved, but still, quite cute, full song length
6. Then there was a dance routine with 5 girls 'Salina's age - all of them are her friends, so I was probably biased but very well rehearsed - and again, full song length.

Now, do you notice a pattern here? Yes. It seems the teacher told them they had a time limit of up to 5 minutes. And they all (except the poetry recitalists) chose to use their full 5 minutes.

It seems the music teacher has a glaring failing, and could not work out why the 20 acts could not be fit into the 30 minutes lunchtime allocated. She even seemed surprised.

I am hoping that my year 5 girl could do the arithmetic on that one and advise that it was never going to happen. Heck, they could have also said "your daughter is 11 in the list, therefore will be not on until some time next week".

Let us just say, chalk it up, par for the course - and my daughter will be appearing in the Talent Show - some time next week...

Comedy of Errors

V's car is at the mechanic, so today we only have one set of (mechanised) wheels.

As he headed to work this morning, I told him to take the car, as I wouldn't be requiring it and it would save me

• getting dressed,
• packing 'Salina in the car,
• driving him to work (only 5 minutes away),
• driving home,
• and resuming my morning twenty minutes later

.

I am all about stress minimisation.

So, 'Salina and I had a good morning - got the routine down pat, all set for sending her off to school and getting my teeth into some work - and were even done 20 minutes early. I made her do a few times tables (tough mother, hey?) and then allowed her the extra 8 minutes for television.

At 7.52am every weekday morning, my phone does the "Time for 'Salina to go to the bus stop" dance.

According to the labourer on the site where V is working, it did do its song and dance routine - but as it was in the car, we didn't hear it.

At 8am, 'Salina notices the time and we realise that not only has she missed the bus - but I can't drive her to school...

So we dusted off the bicycles and set off.

Half way to school, she remembers that she forgot to put her lunchbox in her bag.

There was less than a snowflake's chance in hell that I was going back. Luckily they know me at tuckshop, so we had a solution (that only cost me money, not more sweat).

By the time I got home an hour had been lost (I had to help out for a few minutes at tuckshop to justify to myself being up there) and I have been running behind ever since...

Still, must remember my new mantra...

September Morning

I have had it all.

I woke with anger at 4 - well, not so much anger as p!ssed off - the low-pitched ongoing yowls of two cats in the next door driveway.

This grew when I realised our Eddie had escaped during the night and was one of the participants.

Both pugilists disappeared quicksmart when I appeared. Then there was pride - our Eddie was protecting his territory (I would like to think he would have won if Mummy hadn't saved him) but mainly because I hadn't descended into a few yowls myself and woken the neighbourhood at 4 to tartan nightdress delights.

After the obligatory 20 minutes of thawing and attempting to sleep, I got out of bed in frustration. It is a curious brand of insomnia, this one I have.

Still, the good thing about being up and about at 4.30 is there is rarely anyone to bother you. I was able to do my morning potter and make my tea.

Sipping my tea I felt relaxed. It is a truly beautiful morning, the sun was just starting to soften the darkness and it feels like only me and the newspaper delivery guy are awake.

I fired up the computer and I shed a few tears - I have only read 3 blogs this morning (which is 3 more than I got to yesterday).

Deb has got her pathology results back - expletive deleted - I first "met" Debby when she commented on my sister's fledgling blog, but with her journey over the last couple of years she has become a friend - not just a Jeanie friend, but a family friend. My daughter "knows" her and asks after her. She sent me a wedding present (and yes, I still haven't sent thank yous to everyone, sorry!) and I know that if anyone is going to fight the good fight it will be her! (Oh, and by the way Deb, it was the dog from the British Paints ad I think, in terms of the bitch I meant).

as a result, Bushbabe turned to God - she says the stuff I wish I could say sometimes.

and, as always, Sarah Lulu put God into perspective for me.

Now, I have to get ready for work, and while I am frustrated that I cannot work out the bluetooth connection to this computer to send the photo I took yesterday from the lift at work, I will leave you with what it says.

First point on the Emergency Procedures in the lift at work: "Stay Clam"

Sounds like a plan.

Birth Choices

100 days to go - not that anyone is counting of course.

And I am going to do something I very, very rarely (never) do, and that is have a rant.

See, when I first got pregnant 10 years ago, I had no idea what to expect and what to do in terms of the whole bureaucracy of birth.

Heck, I didn't even have a GP. But I was in the State Capital, and therefore should have access to all options I could poke a stick at - shouldn't I?

Well, according to the doctor I went to see, not really. Mainly because we had "left it so late" (procrastination has a way of catching up with you) and partly because "she didn't believe in a few options" and so wouldn't discuss them with us - so she gave us two options.

• Public - therefore a team of midwives, the obstetrician on call if we needed one and a few days at the local Mater hospital;
• or Private, therefore one obstetrician the whole way through including birth at whatever local Private hospital the obstetrician was attached to.

Being the crunchy granola hippie I was, I really wanted the third option - home birth - but that was the option she didn't believe in, and all the calls to anyone who might have half an idea of what I was supposed to do that I made were not returned.

I also had a passing fancy to a fourth option - but I would have had to book in the day I ovulated to contemplate a Birthing Centre at the time.

As we had "left it so late" we were limited to our choice of obstetrician as well - but in the long run that was fine, as K was an amazing straight-talking lady who, had I known her manner I would have picked her anyway with a choice.

This time around, I wanted to have all my options available - only to be met with a rude shock (and no, I didn't leave it so late to tell the doctor this time).

My choice of obstetrician, were I to go private was 1. He is a lovely man with very reasonable prices - unfortunately there are about 3 times as many prices as there were last time around!!

My choice of hospital, whether I go private or not, is 1. The local Private Hospital no longer does Maternity. And the local Birthing Centre would be back in the State Capital.

If I were to even contemplate homebirth, the nearest midwife who offers such a service is over 200km away.

Still - I am very lucky - my cousins and SIL all have to travel at least 300km just to get to a hospital that will do maternity at all, without the consideration of obstetrician appointments and the headache of who is going to look after other children were there to be any issues. (I am doubly lucky because my Mum said yes to coming to look after 'Salina should the baby arrive before the school holidays - and she is only 200km away).

Wonder why induction rates are on the rise? I would say more to do with having to juggle childcare than women wanting to timetable their lives.

Anyhow, due to one very steep obstetrician bill coinciding with a few unpaid invoices from my business AND the fact that we made a considered decision that so long as the dugout team is supportive, it doesn't really matter who catches the baby - we will be in the same facility as the private obstetrician AND I am the most hale bloddy pregnant woman around, we are going the public option this time around - but I still have private cover up my sleeve should it be required.

However - it appears that even if I were to be so close to the centre of power as to have all birth options open to me, the bureaucrats in Canberra are moving so that no woman will have the choice to Homebirth come next year even if there were a qualified midwife.

The way it works is this - the government have finally allowed medical indemnity insurance to midwives - which should be met with a resounding cheer, should it not?

We-ell, it seems that they have tied this new legislation to a codicil that they are allowed to do so as long as they don't practice homebirthing - all join with me and say "what the"?

Oh yes, and if you are stupid enough to homebirth without a valid "but the ambulance didn't collect/I forgot to go to hospital/oh, is this a baby" excuse and you DO homebirth - you can be fined.

Now, I am pretty bemused that I will never get to have the full on home birth experience - but I have plenty of good excuses.

Not letting anyone in Australia have a Homebirth because of politics sort of pisses me off.

And you all know, very little does that for me.

Here is a YouTube of the one politician that has spoken out on it in parliament:


And yes, for all you furriners, that is the conservative side of politics telling the radicals to give more choice and get with the program - who'd a thunk?

In some things, I don't want Australia to lead the way...