On the uni train...

Why hello there,

Geez I would love to tell you stories about my placement. I get to see some of the most amazing things working in the ED department. But I can't, confidentiality and all that. Turns out, I can keep secrets. Who knew?

Just know, one of the events I witnessed last week ended in a little bit of fainting. Yep, turns out me and pus, we ain't friends. And I faint pretty well too - it's been said the colour of my face is quite unique!

It's the smell. There, I said it.

Now we can move on.

One thing I like about being a third year nursing student, is that Im starting to be treated like a nurse - like I actually know stuff and am capable of making assumptions and decisions about people and their care. It's great, because by being treated like I know stuff...I can actually admit - I KNOW STUFF. And it feels really good, like the last seven years has been totally worth it.

I even take good bloods, so I have been told. They don't call me Nurse Needle for nothing! 

The kids are still coping well, and the only complaint that I have had this week is that they don't get to go to OSCH, because dad is home. 

Dad ruins everything, apparently. Not for me - I love that bloke!

And I am hanging more with my peeps every week. My uni mates who I wouldn't have made it through without! 

We even get to do CPR together and boogie on down to 'Stayin' Alive'. Lameness aside, did you know that if you pump that chest to the beat of 'Stayin' Alive' by The Bee Gees, that is the perfect heart rate? How awesome is that!

And that's pretty much what I am doing today - just Stayin' Alive - after a completely full on week, followed by working on the hot chips stand at the School Fete, and then plugging away at my first assignment for the year Im pretty much dead. 

Ahh Hot Chips and me, we are friends. Possibly inappropriately. Put it this way - for every chip that went into a cup to be sold, one went inside my mouth. And I'll be paying for it on the scales.

Whoever approved my application to run the Hot Chips stand - not smart. 

See, Im eating a chicko roll - and you can't stop me!

The signs featuring the store conveners from last year!

I even had a little helper! But she was more of a hindrance really.

 This week we are building up to the big event. My Dad's 50th birthday. The present is done, and the arrangements made. He's having a science fiction themed party. Should be interesting! There's a little bit of argument about what this family will be dressing as. Im thinking Mad Max, Aunty and a couple of lost kids..Adam - he's not so keen. Can't wait to see what we come up with!

Have a great week xx And Stay Alive!!

The Absence and The Crisis.

So the wheels have come off the blog. But there is good reason and are in part related, and unrelated.


Firstly though, The Absence.

I've mentioned before that I am studying nursing at university. This is my final year (of seven, I know - I mention this ALOT but c'mon, seven years!) and with that comes seriousness. As in things that occur this year pretty much directly impact on the goings on of next year. For this reason, I've actually been doing the right thing and switching blogging and other fun things, for studying and other fun things. The other fun thing is my second to last clinical placement. Yep, that's right. Im a working girl. In a real hospital.

Just not getting paid for it. Which doesn't urk me at all!

This past two weeks has seen me working and trialling my skills in the hospital setting, and the kids being dropped off at out of school hours care at 6.30am.

Did you read that? 6.30. In the AM. 

Interestingly enough, I am flaming organised! Like super mum organised! Thanks to my awesome sister, in part, who gave me the best advice when trying to be a working mum. She should know - she's already done it and rocked that job! 

Working mums, I salute you! It ain't easy. But like all things - doable.

So the weekend sees me doing washing and turning it into little folded, neat piles. One for each day. Pants, tops, jocks, socks and bras - bits and pieces required for each member of the family in an easy, go-to pile which does two things:

a. cuts down the rude amount of washing I seem to accumulate

b. allows the kids to choose from the pre-approved pile what they will wear each day. And this, coupled with their overflowing excitement of attending OSHC in the dark, early morning, means they get dressed in record time. And we avoid the record on repeat that says 'Hurry up! Get dressed!'.

Love those kids.

This then leads me on to the next phase of the past two weeks.

The Crisis.

Me pregnant with Matilda.

Ready to board the honesty train???

While I prepared for leaving my kids for three days a week, and dropping them off at said, rude, dark and early times of day - something hit me. Next year this is me. This is my life. Working full-time, sending TWO kids off to school

I could eat them!

Yes, Tilly, MY Tilly starts school in Term 4

and being a working mum. Trading Stay At Home Mum who studies one day a week, to Working Mum, who works 5 days a week. 

How can she be starting school already!?

And I kinda freaked out. Like, couldn't breathe, world crashing in around me, freaking out. Like, how the hell can I leave my kids at the school gate to see themselves in to school. What if they are sad, what if they get hurt? What if they see the other mums waiting at the classroom and wonder where theirs is?? What if they are tired?? What if they think I don't care, that money is more important to me than being with them?? 

And I cried. A lot. Because for the first time in my life as a mum - I was having to let go. I'm not going to have babies in my house. Im not going to have toddlers or kindy kids. But big, school kids. And it's almost too much.

And I realised - I'm where every mum who's ever had to return to work when their babies are little, who have waved their last child off to school and they turn around lonely, and alone. And they are gone. Independent. We are hitting a milestone here. With that comes more grief, grief on top of that black hole in my stomach that remembers we can't have anymore children - and the unfairness of that. And the dwelling on the person that is missing from our family.

So - I did a grown up thing internets. I went to see a counsellor to just blurt this all out - to make sense of what was going on in my head so that I didn't explode (literally). And I came out with this:

Isn't it sad that we, as mothers, associate stay at home mum with good mum, and working mum with bad mum. 

Isn't it sad that there is a world of people out their who are designed to make mothers feel shitty about the choices we make, whether it be boob or bottle, co-sleeping or not, working or staying at home, childcare or no childcare. That maybe, deep down inside - I have unintentionally been that person by pitying the kids who had no mum standing at the door - and in turn I'm judging myself.

I came out with the fact that regardless of when it happens, we all have to let go, just a tiny bit, of our babies. Let them out into the big wide world and dismiss the feeling that we are leading a lamb to the slaughter - but remember we are raising tough, independent and confident kids. And that it's ok. We are good mums because we care. 

So just when the tide in my stomach was settling - and I was coming to terms with this change that is going on in our family, something happened that made me feel better. I went to pick the kids up from OSHC, I rounded the corner readily awaiting the rush of my two children who were so desperate to see me, who felt abandoned and sad - and wondered what all the other children were doing with their mums who came to pick them up. And instead - I saw two faces spot me. Those face became shocked, then horrified, then broke into a flood of tears and sobs.

How dare I pick them up. They wanted to stay! They were playing games and have a great time, and I ruined everything. And you know what I felt? RELIEF! They were ok. They'll be ok. 

And it's not about me. Shocking I know!!

And the wise words of my sister came to me. "Stop pretending they are thinking the way you do". And it's true, they could care less that I'm not there all the time. And you know what, I'm glad. Pressure off!

So yeah, big changes..but baby steps. It's normal to feel this way I know, but I never for the life of me thought I'd be sending my last baby to school when I'm 28 years old. It doesn't seem right. But it is what it is. And even if I had a thousand kids, I'd still feel this way when I waved that thousandth kid off to school. And it's ok we'll get there.

Here's to the next phase eh?

xx

Week 2

Well it's week 2 of semester one, and look who has come to visit already.

Aren't I a lucky girl?

If one thing is obvious, it's that whilst I'm good at actually washing and drying clothes (let's not mention that I have the aid of two machines for these steps in the process), I clearly have a problem with finishing the deal. Hence the gremlin that has silently grown it's way back in to the corner of my lounge room.

great.

The thing that sucks the most though is that for some reason, my measure of success is whether I can keep on top of the washing. I mean really - how ridiculous! I can attend uni, work in a hospital for two days a week, cook meals, mother my children and contribute to a meaningful marriage, and yet can go to bed of a night time and mark a giant FAIL next to my name because of a few (or more) baskets of clean clothes.

But am I alone in this? Do you too find you judge yourself by the meager things you can't achieve, all the while forgetting the amazing things you do?

I would love your stories.

The stupid thing is, it would take an hour to fold that washing. And the burden would be lifted.

But I can't like folding.

I need to get some perspective. Or a nudist colony.







- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Testing the technology.

So, will the ability to blog from anywhere in the world enhance my blogging experience? Maybe it will.

Or not

But we're going to try. A busy year means less blogging availability, so this blogger app for iphone here may be my solution.

We'll see

Have a great one xx


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

I'll paddle your boat.

This past weekend we trekked into the city for what used to be an annual event for our family. The Santos Symphony under the stars.

What's that?

Well, basically, as part of the (many) festivals that run parallel to each other in Adelaide at this time of the year, the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra, together with South Australian based company, Santos, put a free concert on in the park. We used to go every year as kids, and since then things such as the Big Day Out (think hangover), hot weather, torrential rain and other, unforeseen circumstances have stopped either the event occurring at all, or us attending. 

This year however, everything aligned and we were once again spread out on the lawns of Elder park a mere 8 hours before the concert was due to start. We were well equipped with rugs, low back chairs, eskys and of course, Saturday's paper. 

Adam, being trooper of the year, volunteered to bring all four children (kids + niece + nephew) later on the bus so that they wouldn't deliberately drown themselves in the river as a better option to the bordem that would no doubt encroach on the 8 hours of waiting. They got there 2 hours before the start of the show, and - well - that was enough really!

We talked to this swan, also known as "Swanny" for awhile. And then we decided to go on the Pop-Eye, a cute little boat that cruises up and down the river for a fairly reasonable price. Only after we had waited at the boat stop, and the Pop-Eye pulled up and docked itself, and the kids attempted to get on board. The driver said:

"Sorry, last ride for the day".

And Tilly cried, a lot. 

Isn't disappointment the worst feeling?

So, the only option was these little babies. Yep - paddle boats. Which I can safely say I had never been on as an adult.

One word.

YEOUCH!

I had to rope my dad onto riding on to one of them, as there were four kids to entertain. Somehow we ended up with all the girls on one, and all the boys on the other. And boys, being boys, decided that of course it was a big giant race from one bridge to the other.

Great.

Which sucked balls because, well, my girls let me down with their short legs..and I had to stare at this for half an hour, watching the lactic acid building up and promising me achy legs the next day.

Stupid acid.

The losers.

My poor calves.

The winners.

But despite the world of pain I entered as a result of paddling this shit for half an hour (yes I have fitness issues.) for which the Pop Eye and it's failing entertainment will pay for, it wasn't so bad when this was the view. We really do live in a pretty city.

Then it was time to head back to the camp and eat our picnic dinner. And it was at this point my brother entered a world of pain when I, awesomely, discovered his first grey hair.

And then Ash totally cracked the sads. And looked like this for the rest of the night. It was funny, for me - who has dyed and coloured my hair since I was fifteen and will NEVER see a grey hair, unless I want to.

So there.

Sad face.

 The music started, and Tilly had a great time dancing to music from Slum Dog Millionaire. She had those moves down!

And the paddle boat loser succumbed to the physical excursion that only the challenge of totally awesome chicks, and losing, can bring. They might have won if Darcy wasn't steering - he's a bit like a puppy really who just travels in the direction his head happens to turn. Lots of zigzagging in that boat!

Once the orchestra came out, we settled back and enjoyed the magnificence that is the ASO. We enjoyed it with all walks of town, the snobs from the east, the bogans from the north, and the mutts from the south. And we were all united by a love of music, no matter what kind of music it might be. It's one of my favourite parts of this event, you really can't judge a book by it's cover - or it's tattooed, leathered up, bearded faces.

And to top the night off, fireworks in the last part of the 1812 Overture. One word - Magic! And the perfect end to a perfect night.

If you haven't done it before, I highly recommend it. Even if you think classical music isn't your thing - branch out! You never know.

xx