"I'm fine!" And other lies

I've been thinking about writing this blog all day. I've been out and about so hadn't had time to actually put any words down until now, but I've been thinking about it all day. Would I write it? Wouldn't I? Go it go into the detail I originally thought or would I chicken out? All these questions have gone through my head, as well as the underlining thought that surprisingly, I'm OK.

Today is R U OK day. It's suicide prevention day. The day where you're urged to ask the people around you, "Are You OK?" ;the most common answer I give is "I'm fine!" I can't speak for everyone and if you're not fine I urge you to speak up, but I can tell you the reasons why I answer "I'm fine" 

1.     I'm Fine (I'm really not) - In my opinion, whatever things I'm going through are probably not a big enough deal to burden you with. I know this is crap because of all my friends who ask if I'm OK, there wouldn't be many who aren't interested and looking to help if they can. But I consider myself the looker-after-er of all my people. I'm the one who holds i times. However I have never, ever considered it a viable option though. To end my suffering maybe, but there's more than just me at stake here. Who would look after my kids/how would Patrick cope as a single parent? Who would make sure the mortgage was paid on time or remember family birthdays? I'm clearly needed here and that's why it's not a option for me.

But I do get depressed. And I'm sure I'm not alone when asked 'R U OK?' the most common answer I give is "I'm fine!" I can't speak for everyone and if you're not fine I urge you to speak up, but I can tell you the reasons why I answer "I'm fine" 

1.     I'm Fine (I'm really not) - In my opinion, whatever things I'm going through are probably not a big enough deal to burden you with. I know this is crap because of all my friends who ask if I'm OK, there wouldn't be many who aren't interested and looking to help if they can. But I consider myself the looker-after-er of all my people. I'm the one who holds it together when times are tough. I'm sensible and practical and cool in a crisis. I ask people if they are OK. I should be able to handle anything.

2.     I'm Fine (You know I'm not) - Said most often to Patrick when very clearly I am NOT fine. It's the fine that you know somethings up but you shouldn't stick around to find out because honestly you should already know what you've done wrong and should hurry off to fix it. Now!

3.     I'm Fine (I'm totally am) - This is the fine I feel today. I'm thankful that there are things that I'm worried and stressing about at the moment, but overall, I'm OK. I'm never going to be able to handle everything. Pregnancy and motherhood taught me that. But I'm doing OK. My family are happy, we're fed, healthy, housed, dressed and surrounded by people who love us. Things could be a lot worse.

I hope you're OK today and most days. And if you're not, reach out to someone and let them know.

I think Lily (aged 3) summed up my day the nicest:

Me: Hey Lily are you OK?

Lily: Yep

Me: Are you sure?

Lily: Yes! I'll tell you if I'm not!

Please do Lily. Anytime.   

Secrets exposed

I was recently tagged in a post by the award-winning Alex Kerr that was along the lines of "tag 15 people and get them to do the same". Or something like that. I was side-tracked by the thrill of her win. But the award came with those prerequisites.

So I thought that even though I'm not a fan of chain letters, chain emails or 'send this to 10 friends or you'll next have sex again' type things, I thought I'd share 7 things about myself that you might not know. (Read Alex's blog and it'll make sense. Trust me)

So here there are. The things you may, or may not, know about me:

1. I am the oldest, wisest, most charming, funny and beautiful of my 2 siblings. And I'm sure they'd agree. Or they should if they know what's good for them.

2. I'm most at peace in a book shop or library with a nice hot cup of tea and a few hours solitude. Ah, the bliss of books. Real, paper books. Don't get me wrong, I love my eReader but nothing compares to the joy of holding a book in your hands. Please feel free to suggest any good reads to me. I'm always interested in what people are reading. And I read anything! Except fantasy/dragon/hobbit styles or Harry Potter.

3. I fell into my career. When I left school I had big plans to be a hairdresser. I went to training college and worked in a few salons. The last salon I worked in was wonderful. The girls were great and the boss wanted nothing but the best, in a strict motherly way. However, the time came that I had to make a decision between doing the course my boss had bagged out or ....? I opted to find another job. And turned to my back-up plan, office work. Through temping I ended up by accident with my current employer, and more than 10 years and a few promotions later, here I am.

4. I'm bossy. Seriously. I blame being a Capricorn, It's my way or the highway. And everything must be within my control. Having said that, I've learnt how to suggest or offer ideas that the receiver thinks are their own when in fact it's my way! I'm not good at letting go. Not completing deadlines freak me out.

5. I believe in ghosts. Because I was visited on a few occasions by a family spirit who wanted to make sure I was ok. I freaked out! Until I saw a medium and as a total skeptic was told things she could never had known. Now I'm at peace with the spirit world and have haven't been visited again but I know I'm still being watched over.

6. I love 80's movies. John Hughes, Molly Ringwald, the brat pack. Breakfast Club, Weird Science, Pretty In Pink, 16 Candles, St Elmo's Fire... the list goes on and on. Give me some wine and an 80's flick & I'm set for a night in!

7. I hate magicians and clowns. Clowns is easy to work out. I never liked fancy dress days. I didn't like the idea of being different from everyone else. (An aside: I used to freak out on the first day of school in case I turned up in a different uniform from everyone else). In preschool we had clown dress up day. Imagine my horror. Being forced as a 4 year old to dress up, as a clown. Every photo is of me in tears. Thus to this day I hate clowns. Don't even try to change my mind.

Magicians are something different. I get that you've got a skill. Yay you. But if I can't work out how you picked that card, or where that coin was hidden you can get fucked. Yeah I said it. I don't want to see your smug magician face saying you'll show me again more slowly. Just take your magic elsewhere weirdo and leave me alone.

So that's 7 (hopefully) new things about me for you to know now. How about you leave me something new about you to share the love?

Cheese Sandwiches & Cups of Tea (aka My Night in ER)

I've tried to write this post a few times now and each try could have filled a small novel. You don't deserve to be bored with such a wordy retelling so I'm trying one.last.time.

If you get nothing else out of this, please understand my intentions are to give heartfelt thanks to Lisa the head night nurse (until 11pm) in the Emergency Department of the Caboolture Hospital, and to the various other staff, nurses, doctors and specialists who saw us during our 19.5 hour stay.

It started with a frantic phone call from Patrick, thankfully the minute I stepped off the train on my way home. Ava has been hurt while playing at the park. Come home now!

There was blood. But no exposed bones, no head injuries and relatively no pain. Ava wouldn't let us check it out, so I figured a trip to the doctor to check all was ok was in order. Since it was early evening, neither our normal doctor or the local medical centre were open. Hi ho, hi ho it's off to ER we go.

I don't have fantastic experiences of ER. Mostly I recall waiting, for hours, and more hours, before being seen. And the last time we waited so long that I figured it would be easier to just go home, get some sleep and head off to our doctors in the morning (about 3 hours after we left ER). But this time was going to be different. For one thing, I wasn't going back to our 'normal' ER department. The Royal would have been my first choice but I never know where to park, and it's about a 45 minute drive. Patrick suggested the Mater, another excellent choice, but it's over the other side of town from us. So I decided on Caboolture. I had recently heard great things about them and the private clinic next to the ER so up the highway we flew.

As soon as we told the triage nurse our story she ushered us through some doors and Ava was being weighed and issued with painkillers. Let the adventures begin!

Once in our little private ER room, the doctor came by to check Ava out. Specialists would be required and perhaps sedation. But these things take time, specialists being so special they were in emergency surgery at the moment. That's cool, we'll wait.

And wait, and wait, and wait. During our waiting, the lovely Lisa came by hourly to check Ava's vital signs (all good) and eventually to bring me cups of tea, cheese sandwiches and the hospital phone so I could call Patrick and keep him posted. Saint!!

The specialists came by, with the head of department and advised that we might have to transfer to Brisbane if there is surgery required. Or we could transfer there first. I requested transferring to Brisbane to save double sedation if surgery is required. But no, Brisbane wouldn't take us and advised we be sent home.

The wonderful people of Caboolture said no, we wouldn't be sent home without being checked out properly and kindly put us up for the night in the Children's Ward. Finally, a bed for me! Ava had slept on and off in ER but I was knackered. It was now 2am.

Breakfast arrived at about 7am which Ava was pleased to see. She hadn't eaten since afternoon tea the day before. After breakfast though, she was fasting in case sedation was required.

Patrick arrived with fresh clothes about 10am. Hooray! I could finally change out of my slept in work clothes from the day before.

Again we waited, and waited, and waited some more until about noon when the team of 3 specialists came back to review. Fantastic news - we were being discharged! No sedation required, no further poking and prodding for Ava and no more waiting!

At 1.30pm we walked out of the Caboolture Hospital, Ava a little tender, but all very happy.

Patient follow up: She's impossible to keep still. My repeated requests to lay on the couch and rest are being ignored. At least she isn't in pain!

Thank you to the staff who had anything to do with Ava's care, and thank you to all who expressed concern and sent messages of love and best wishes.

From Lad to Dad

Me: "So do you want to have kids some day?"
Him: "Yeah"
Me: "Me too. One to start with but I'd rather not have an only child"
Him: "Sounds good"


That's probably how our first do-you-want-kids conversation went. We were perhaps kids ourselves, being in our very early 20's. But that was how we rolled. Some years later (although not enough according to most people) we got married. Ah wedded bliss. Life was good. We were a united front facing the world with a drink in hand, still in our early 20's.


Me: "Do you think it's time we started trying to have a baby?"
Him: "Nah we don't want to rush it, let's wait a few more years"

Me: "Nope, I really feel like we should start trying now. Who knows how long it'll take? I'd rather start now than put it off in case there is any problems."

Him: "I really think we should wait a few years"

Me: "Ok, here's the deal. Because we can't decide and I want to start and you don't, I'm going off the pill now. Any protection is up to you. Deal? Ok.

That was probably our second (and most important do-you-want-kids conversation. It was about 2 months later that I was pregnant with Ava,  and Patrick was on the fast track from Lad to Dad.

Now almost 6 years on from that conversation, Patrick is daddy to Ava and Lily and has adapted to his new role brilliantly. He is an expert tea party host, wonderful pack horse for piggy back rides, general funny man at kids birthday parties, (un)willing victim recipient of makeovers and manicures, story teller, chief swing pusher, the most sparkly queen of the princess fairies and biggest bear hugger.

And even though both girls just covered a bedroom in baby lotion, smearing it on every available surface, and I just lost my shit big time, Patrick still manages to be the calm voice of reason offering cuddles to all, discipline to those who require it, and assistance cleaning up. On Father's Day. Whatta guy!

So Happy Father's Day to you, Patrick, and to all the other dads, step-dads, adopted dads, dad fill-ins, grandads and father figures in our lives.



Happy Father's Day!