Gareth turns 10 this weekend. He opted for a few friends for tea today rather than a big party as he had been told that he was getting a special present this year that had eaten up the birthday budget.
When he agreed on a "not a party get-together" his only question was "Can I still have a cake?" Of course he could. Next question "Can it be a character from Adventure Time?" What character? "Beemo" What does Beemo look like? "He's a blue rectangle" I can do rectangles! And so the Beemo cake was made.
And while I iced the final touches Gareth disappeared into the computer room with his sister who made him a Beemo mask and then cut bits of coloured paper out and stuck them to him so that his t-shirt was transformed into Beemo's body!
Happy "day before you turn 10" Gareth!
... I never promised I'd return them clean!
So I'm in week two of returning to my "normality" This was the week I was going to try to re-establish good routines. I was going to get back on the exercise bike each day, even if only for 20 mins. I was going to dust down the menu plan and get back into my regular Aldi shop each Monday. I was going to start planning for Gareth's 10th birthday at the end of this month.
So Monday came and brought with it great expectations. I woke in the morning to a message from my brother who was supposedly flying to Ireland and should have been somewhere above the Arab Emirates by breakfast. He was back in Sydney because he was on the Emirates plane that had an engine explode resulting in 2-3 meter flames lighting up the entire cabin and a hasty retreat back to Sydney. Cue turn on the news to watch the footage on every news channel for the following hour. Knowing he was safe and hoping to get on a new flight should have been the point at which I focused myself back on the straight and narrow, but no, That's when Mr B decided to throw a spanner in the works.
Yes, from 10.30am onwards I was getting messages from him about some mysterious pain he was having and the various ailments Google had suggested it might be. I became slightly more sympathetic when he stumbled in the front door early and looked ashen. I made a phone call to the local GP who said go straight to hospital.
Mr B said "No".
Then we rang the 24hr Health helpline who said go straight to hospital.
Mr B said "No".
I collected the kids from swimming and piano, raced home, made and served tea, packed his overnight bag and then Mrs B said "No more NO, get in the car" And so we did. It was an interesting car journey driving the 30 minutes on winding roads that made Byron go paler and paler on every left bend (but not right bends?) There was the small issue of him semi-passing out twice in the car park as I tried to get him from the car to the ED doors, the staff assuming he was having a heart attack from his doubled-over-clutching-his-side-ashen-grey-face. Over the next few hours it was looking more likely to be a kidney stone.
And so the rest of this week slipped by with me in nurse mode at work and then nurse mode at home too. In the evenings I sat sympathetically next to Mr B on the sofa, ignoring the exercise bike in the corner and drank cups of tea and ate chocolate, then found out both are "bad" foods for kidney stones so lovingly ate both mine AND Byron's portions of the remaining chocolate in the house. I know, I know, I'm a devoted wife. I deserve a medal. Make it a dark chocolate truffle one...!
Normality has been postponed to next week...
The first week after getting home from Ireland I collapsed into a bit jet-lagged heap. I had made promises to God pleading for no jet-lag on my arrival in Ireland so that I could make the best use of the seven days I had there. I bargained that I would take double the jet-lag if I could only delay it all until I returned to Australia. Well God answered good and proper and I could barely keep my eyes open for the first part of this week.
We pulled in to the driveway at about 10pm on Sunday night after an exciting chatter-filled car journey home from the airport. Monday morning when the bedside alarm went off at 6.30am I felt like someone was pranking me, waking me in the middle of the night. I struggled through the day and even thought at one point while driving Gareth to swimming lessons that I really wasn't fully up to it. I felt as though I was driving after drinking and made sure I took the journey slow and then put away the car keys on my return and told Byron he would have to do the tennis run as I didn't trust my reaction times.
It took most of that week to return to anything near normal. I had no difficulty getting to sleep each night, I just couldn't get up in the mornings!
As the end of the week approached I had a call from my brother asking could I have his boys overnight so he could go to a wedding. It was crazy fun and my 2 year old nephew delighted in waking me as the sun was barely rising with great big shouts of "Aunty Geeeena, It's no night-time anymore.... wake up Aunty Geeeeeena, WAKE UP!"
My brother called by the next morning and brought their baby with them so I managed to get a group photo of the 6 cousins together. It kind of made up for the early start! kind of..... yaaaaawnnnn...