So Close

Clue: Two syllables, rhymes with PARKO and is another name for GIGANTIC ASSHOLE

I am not having fond thoughts about my husband at the moment. Murderous thoughts would be a better description.*

Moving along swiftly….

My feet have been really sore recently. Not being one to complain much (yeah right!) I didn’t want to say anything, what with the almost-amputated toe and all (toe is much better!). But I’ve had a lot of pain in the arches of both feet. At first I thought it had something to do with the sore toe, gangrene perhaps, or even gout, but then I read a little online and I don’t think it is that. I’ve booked an appointment for Wednesday with the podiatrist, but in the meantime I had a chat to the physio today (gawd, I am SUCH a hypochondriac! If I am not at my therapist, I am at my physio. I am pathetic).

Anyway, my physio was poking and prodding around my feet and she says she doesn’t think it is gangrene or leprosy. Or gout. She asked me a whole lot of questions about whether anything had changed recently and I said no. She then asked if I wore decent shoes and I told her that actually, I had just recently bought my first pair of proper ‘orthopaedic’ shoes. (can you spell M I D D L E  A G E D!) and she said AHA! Apparently the shoes I bought could be the cause. German shoes. Damn those Germans! Something about a high instep, made for people with flat feet (I have high arches) and hairy armpits. They are too broad for my feet etc etc. Can you believe that! I finally succumb to comfort over form (Marko is horrified that I bought granny shoes) and they make my bloody feet sore! I am such an asshole.  I know this will make my sister laugh. She likes to laugh at my misfortune. She isn't a very nice person inside. Don't be fooled by that happy-clapping, hymn-singing shit.

The worst thing is that I didn’t even buy the bloody shoes for their ‘orthopaedic’ qualities; I bought them because the colour perfectly matched with my comfy sweatpants. Life can be incredibly cruel sometimes.

*Plus he is sick at the moment.  Man Flu. An almost life-threatening debilitating affliction. Husbands are painful at the best of times. Sick husbands are like an ingrown toenail squished inside a pointy shoe worn to a cocktail party. Or like German orthopaedic shoes. PAINFUL!

I might need to have my toe amputated

Question: What is worse than having two sick children, a full time job, a business on the side and various other obligations?
Answer: A sick husband

This bronchitis business is going around and poor Marko (poor me!) is sick as well. Joy. What a little bundle of joy the Albertyns are at the moment. Although, the kids seem to be on the mend, which is a good thing. Unfortunately, this has coincided with two (2) weeks school holiday and so just as the bronchitis clears up; cabin fever is hot on its heels and already threatening to inflict its poison on all and sundry. Help!

But enough about them, lets talk about me! I think I might need to have my toe amputated. It is very sad, but I see no other alternative. My left big toe is hot, swollen and throbbing in pain. I suspect an infection inflicted by the pedicure obtained on the cheap last week from the dubious Budget Barbie Beautician. Damn this recession, forcing me to lower my standards and put my feet at risk. 

In other news, apparently most of you (except my favourite Aussie and NZ best friends) are on summer holidays. I have one thing to say to you: I hate you. I don’t want to hear how divine your holidays are, how hot it is there and how much fun you are having. I am about to unfriend you on Facebook and Twitter. It is effing freezing here, my winter sheets are all wet and to top it all, I am about to have my big toe amputated. The only silver lining is that it is too cold to wear sandals and so no one will notice the missing toe.

So anyway, that is my news. I’d love to stay and chat, but time is short and I need to google TOE INFECTION LEADS TO AMPUTATION to prepare myself for what lies ahead. Wish me luck.

All is well in the land of Tertia

Hello campers, how the hell have you been?! Haven’t spoken to you for AGES!

Got back from my business trip away (great success, yay!) this evening to 2x sick kids and 1x travelling husband.

I called Rose from the hotel this morning and she said the kids were not well, especially Kate. Both of them were coughing and Kate was complaining of a sore ear. *WARNING! WARNING! DANGER AHEAD!!*

I called the Paed immediately and made an appointment for an hour’s time. Fantastic! Except for one small problem – how the hell was I going to get them there! I am 2000 miles away, Marko left for his business trip at sparrows fart this morning and my mom was unavailable (she was having a facial! Bad grandmother, bad!). I called my friend/neighbour but her kid was sick too, so I called my dad to ask him to send his driver to pick Rose and the kids up and take them to the Paed. Which he did. I then called the pharmacy and explained the whole situation to them, asking whether they would be so kind as to give the medication to Rose and I would be in tomorrow to pay them. Which they agreed to do.

The kids have mild bronchitis plus sinus infection, plus Kate has a really gunky ear. The Paed said I have to take her to the ENT for a consultation ASAP. Lovely. I am sensing another operation coming.

The poor things are coughing and coughing and coughing. I estimate that I will get approximately 0,5 hours sleep tonight. Coughing in stereo. Beeeeeyoootiful.

Rose has been an absolute STAR! I am so so so lucky to have her in my life. I really am. I realized today how lucky I am to have such an excellent support structure in place.  My parents, the doctor, the pharmacy, Rose, just everyone. It is already bad enough to be away from your kids, but when they get sick, it is even worse. All you want to do is get on that plane and fly straight home.

So, that is my story. Successful business trip, sick kids, husband away, superstar nanny, empty fridge, a moderate to severe case of RSI (more on that tomorrow), a glass of wine beyond sensible, but otherwise, all well in the land of Tertia

PS Remind me to tell you about the Accommodation from Hell story. V funny. 

Compeletely meaningless

Do you know, I think this is the longest in over four years that I have gone without updating my blog.  Except that now I am.  Updating. But if I hadn't done this completely meaningless post, I would have gone for THREE days without updating my blog. Shock, horror! A sign of the times!

I am away on official Nurture business (our first business trip, how grown up!) and when Mel and I aren't drinking wine and eating sushi, we are working Very Hard.

Anyway, in case you were concerned that I had died, I haven't. I'm still here. Just too busy to blog. Still loving you madly though. xxx

Calling all fairy godmothers

Hello dear hearts. My sister, the happy clapper, is putting together a fundraising ball for her charity, Bosom Buddies. As you know, her charity provides destitute new mothers the basic necessities like sanitary towels, baby blankets and a few other items which they otherwise would not have. These mothers are so poor that they sometimes have to take their babies home wrapped in old newspaper as they have nothing else.

Anyway, she is putting together a ball to raise funds and has come up with a great idea to rewards and acknowledge the many volunteers who help her in the charity. Some of the volunteers are themselves not very well off financially and would ordinarily never be able to afford a ticket to the ball.

She is inviting all of you to attend, but considering that some of you stay a little far away, you could attend by proxy.  If you are able and willing to play fairy godmother, you could sponsor one of the volunteers to attend the ball on your behalf. Tickets are R300 / $38 per person and she has all the details on her blog. Please go check it out and if you can help, please do.

Thanks and smooches xxx

Updates on the Assvice

I called Adam’s OT yesterday and had a wonderful chat to her. She said I am welcome to bring him back any time for some work. But first, she said, she wanted to ask me some questions about this puzzle thing.

Do I think it is a perception thing – he can’t see where the pieces go? I said no. It is a frustration thing – he can’t fit the puzzle pieces together properly (they wont ‘click’ in easily) and so he gets cross and frustrated.

She said it could be from his sensory profile, not a tactile thing but a proprioception thing (remember, that was/is his biggest sensory ‘thing’). He doesn’t know how hard to press to put the puzzle pieces into place etc.

(Aside note: This incident has made me remember back that I had very poor fine motor control at school. The only way I could write (to control the pencil) was to press really hard. My hands and arms used to get so tired from pressing so hard. I always got into trouble about how crappy my handwriting was. Exams were a total nightmare because of all the writing. I still get very tired from writing. Thank goodness for keyboards!!)

Anyway, it was such a great discussion because she is so clued on the sensory stuff PLUS she knows Adam so well. The stuff she said makes so much sense.

Firstly, puzzles are no great indicator. But the stiff hands, splayed fingers are concerning. As is his frustration levels. She said we need to do lots of fine motor stuff, but nothing that has a success / failure point like beading, puzzles or threading. The reason being is that if he ‘fails’ at it, he is going to get frustrated and not want to do it anymore.

Instead, we should be giving him free play stuff. Stuff that he will enjoy doing that doesn’t have an element of ‘failure’ built in. In other words, you only achieve success when you fit that puzzle piece in, or you thread that bead.  Instead, we should do things like make lots of cookie dough and make our own shapes. Roll big balls of dough and little balls. Make little cars, snowmen, anything he wants. Lots of rolling and pinching and things like that, but let him make whatever he wants. We then decorate them, bake the shapes and eat them!! Or we get Crazy Clay and make shapes and little balls etc and bake them into toys. We can paint them afterwards. Lots of playdough shapes. Or we take bubble bath and ‘paint’ with our fingers on the side of the bath. But everything is free play. What a divine idea. Makes SO much sense for a child like Adam, or any child like him who gets very intense and worked up about ‘failure’.

I am SO please I called her (thanks to you darling ‘holes). I love that she knows Adam so well. We will go back next month for an evaluation and perhaps some sessions, but I am pleased that I spoke to her. Very pleased and very relieved.

YAY!

As for Kate: I put a nappy on her the last two nights. She likes that kind of thing because she loves to pretend to be a baby. It would take a lot to make THAT child feel like a failure. Confidence is sky high. Naturally, she has been dry both nights. Hmmmm. Will still take her for bladder infection test though.

These kids! They drive us crazy :-)

Assvice #2 – Fine Motor Skills

I’m off to read your words of wisdom on the Kate issue, but while I do, here is my next conundrum.

Last week I went to school and noticed the teaching assistant mark off something on a chart. What is that, I asked. She said that it was a chart where they tracked each child’s progress with puzzles so that they could see how they progressed through the year. Well, before I even looked at the chart, I knew what I would be seeing:

Kate – above average        Adam – right at the bottom

Adam does not like doing puzzles because he gets incredibly frustrated trying to fit the puzzle pieces together. His hands are so stiff and his fingers so splayed that none of the pieces fit into each other properly and he gets himself all worked up. I keep wanting to tell him ‘relax, do it gently and slowly!’ I’ve kind of known that we should be doing something about it, but being the magnificent procrastinator that I am, I’ve done nothing.

Of course, also being the over paranoid mother that I am, I am now concerned that I should be doing about this. His fine motor skills suck, to be brutally frank. His hands are very stiff and he seems to have poor control when it comes to things like threading and drawing.

Naturally my first instinct is to phone up the OT and book him in IMMEDIATELY, but I thought I would check with you first.

What do you think? Should I worry or not? Are fine motor skills important? What long term effects does poor fine motor skills have? Will he get it eventually on his own? Should I take him for some OT?

I’m obviously putting on a little. Not everyone is good at stuff like puzzles, and in fact, I hate puzzles myself. So I am not freaking out, but if there is something I can do to make things easier for him, I obviously will.

What are your thoughts?

Assvice #1 – Bed Wetting Regression

While Adam is still on night nappies, both kids have been amazingly easy to potty train. In fact, in all honestly, they potty trained themselves, I can claim no glory there. About a year ago, Kate told me she was no longer wearing nappies and that was that. And because if Kate jumped into the fire, Adam would too, he soon followed suit. Within a week, Kate was dry at night (Adam is only now having the occasional dry night) but it took me a further almost three months to keep the nappy on at night because I thought it was impossible that she could go from being wet at night to totally dry. For the last year she has been totally dry, except for one ‘accident’. 

Yet, in the last week, she has had three ‘accidents’, and yesterday she wee’d in her pants at school, which is so unlike her. Last night she had an accident at 11pm. When she does it at night, she wakes up crying, but still half asleep. As soon as I’ve changed her PJs and bed linen, she goes straight back to sleep.

What on earth is happening? I’ve asked her, but she doesn’t really have an answer for me. The night time incidents she doesn’t even recall the next day. The incident at school she said was because Rebecca was in the loo already. She usually has excellent bladder control and can keep it in for ages. I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried cutting back on their bottles at night (last night was the first time), I suppose I should give them earlier in the evening as well. 

The only thing that has changed is that I have started cutting back on the day naps. I thought that was the problem, that she was too tired at night to remember to control her bladder, but yesterday afternoon they slept and she still did it last night.

Why is this happening?  She is not especially traumatised by it; she is rather matter of fact about it.  I've asked her about it and gently said that she should call me if she needs to wee at night, but she only calls me after she has weed. I obviously haven't made a big deal about it because I know it is not on purpose. But wet bed linen in the middle of winter is not exactly Great Fun. What should I do?  Do I put her back in nappies?  Help!

A late afternoon walk after a rather wet weekend

What men really want for Father’s Day

Yesterday Marko and I were at the shop and the next thing he starts spluttering and gesticulating wildly at a display next to us. “I can’t believe it! The ONE day a year dedicated to fathers and they have a mother’s day item displayed for all to see”. (It was some minor chocolate thingy that had the word ‘mother’ on it. THE COLD, UNFEELING BASTARDS!) 

Well, forgive me my nitpickiness for pointing out the blinding obvious, but ONE day? Hello! I don’t think so. Every day is bloody Father’s Day! 

But I got to thinking about what would constitute the perfect Father’s Day. You know, if I was the perfect wife instead of the Evil Witch from Hell. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the perfect day for fathers would have very little to do with being a father at all. In fact, the perfect day for fathers would probably apply to most men, whether they are fathers or not:

Mid morning after a late lie in: Eggs, bacon, coffee and a blowjob in bed

After breakfast: A lovely long hot shower

After shower: A bit of quality time with the kids. Perhaps a bit of rough and tumble or pottering around in the garden. No crying, fighting or hurting themselves allowed. Kids then trot off to amuse themselves for rest of morning.

Just before lunch:  Another cup of coffee and an uninterrupted read through the Sunday papers, wife on hand to nod in agreement at your rantings about the government, the economy and society in general. 

Lunchtime: Home cooked Sunday roast with all the trimmings, followed by an hour’s snooze on the couch

Mid afternoon: Wave goodbye to kids as they go off to spend afternoon with granny. Wife beckons knowingly to bedroom where she performs a strip show just for you. Hot steamy sex follows. Followed by another little nap.

Late afternoon: Plonk yourself in front of the TV and watch sport while wife hands you beer and snack. 

Later: Wife brings you another beer

Later: Your friends come around. Your wife brings them beer too.

Even later: Your friends leave. The kids are in fed, bathed and in their PJs. They come to kiss you goodnight and tell you how you are the BEST dad ever!

Night time: You pass out in front of the TV. Your wife puts a blanket over you and switches off the light. 

Poor Marko. If only he had a wife like the one above. Oh well, he did get a new set of thermal underwear (unwrapped), the lucky beast.  Sunday roasts and blowjobs may come and go, but thermal underwear is forever!

Happy father’s day to the dads. I hope your day was similar to the one above.