Happy Birthday Dad

For your birthday you can have an extra dose of crazy, laced with low sugar levels and decorated with a buggered kidney. Awesome huh?? Now blow out those damn candles.

I know I only seem to write when things are bad; I must sound like a whinging old harpy. But, my blog is for me to say what I want how I want; and I don't really have many outlets except it.

The lactulose was causing too high sugar levels (for those playing at home, 28). So, off to the diabetic specialist we go. Who takes him off lactulose and gives him 2 pills to take once a day. Because 2 pills once a day is going to do exactly the same as 4 hourly doses of lactulose. I said then, that it would really fix him, or really fuck him - hello fucked.

Yesterday morning I called to say happy birthday. He answered the phone and was talking jibberish. Of course, I panicked and got him to get mum - you hear the phone fumble fumble drop - then mum picks up. 'Oh, you've just woken him up' she says and I heave a sigh of relief. Because, you know, imagine him getting sick on his birthday. 'happy birthday yada yada we'll see you tonight' - hang up and get on with everything else that has to be done today.

Riley had a birthday party so he went to that. No parents allowed, so we meandered up the road for a coffee and a yak. Party pickup - mum calls in a blithering mess; Dad is all over the shop.

Awesome.

Get there, try and get sugar into him; he can't even work out how to drink. Call the ambulance yada yada and spend 7 hours in emergency trying to work out WTF is going on here. Turns out now that something is causing a big issue with the kidney too - just to add to the fun. Sugar is 2 - but no one has told my mother what too low is. Fuckers.

They've gone back to lactulose.

I just keep hearing that jack in the box song - 'round and round the mulberry bush, the monkey chased the weasel' - and it's our life story. Except when jack goes 'pop' - that will be my brain exploding.

We'll get there.

In other news - all is good. Boxes freaking everywhere and I am outright lying to my children - i.e. ' why don't we put this battered broken toy into the box to 'go to the new house'' (aka lets just chuck the freaking thing out and by the time we get to the new house you'll have forgotten about it). Only problem is, Connor wants to help so has chucked ALL toys into the box. So, now I have to go through it again. Lying to your children will always bite you on the ass.

Mish mash...

It just gets better doesn't it? SIL, the one who threw the tanty about doing Kris Kringle because buying shitty $2 made-in-china presents for the 14 neices and nephews is more 'personal' so we're doing it her way - isn't even COMING for Christmas day.

'She didn't know'. My eye she didn't.

I don't even care. Well, I do really, in that none of us have spent a Christmas with G's family for upteen years because of TWO SILs'; and now we're doing it again. I'd love to call her and tell her exactly what I think of her - but she's not my family.

I've got enough of my own family to deal with, thanks all the same.

In other news; I caved and watched Twilight last night.

I have read all four books and was transported back to the 'babysitters club' years and found all four books awful. Sorry, but I did.

With all this damn hype about Vampires etc, I thought, well, I best cave. So, I did.

And it will be probably the only time say that I liked a movie better than a book.

But I'm not running to the midnight session of the next one; trust me on that.

My super-duper-cool friend and amigo Ames has released her very own book. Which is about 37 times better than the twilight book. Get it. It's awesome. How to be a vampire

Extended family - Who'd have them?

You would think that I'd be a frenzy of boxes and packing and stressing and hurrying right now; work is picking up (being involved in refrigeration, it happens..), Christmas is on it's way and our whole lives need to be picked up and moved.

Instead, we are going to see old friends of ours for lunch, bash around their pool and do a whole lot of nothing.

I have stopped being all things to all people. The perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect assistant manager and the perfect daughter. Because, too often, they collide and I am constantly feel as though I am letting someone down. The pressure cooker went bang on Friday night; G came home with tea to find a bottle of wine gone; and me sitting on the deck, tears silently running down my face.

His family have pissed me off badly this week. Not all of them, but half of his brothers and their other halves. Their hypocrisy astounds me, their self importance baffles me and their expectations are endless.

It was C's birthday on Wednesday. He had a ball; ran into R's room and dragged his school uniform out because 'now he can go to school'. G's eldest brother called and pretended he was Jamie Whincup - which made C's day. "MUM. JAMIE.WHINCUP.SPOKE.TO.ME'. It cost Chris nothing and it made his day.

The others. Well. After this big hoo ha about not doing Kris Kringle because 'it's more personal to get all the children a present' and 'I really want my daughters to get a present' - not one single thought came to C from either of them on his birthday. But, an invitation to a Christening did.

Each year, I send each and every neice/nephew a $20 voucher and a card. It's just something small to say that we are thinking of them on their birthdays. The most personal day of the year, I'd have thought. But, because it's not their child - big deal.

Before J had children, the kids would be lucky to get a card with some money in it for Christmas. Now he has children - we're all expected to buy presents because his children must have presents.

Instead of a thought for C's birthday, an invitation to a Christening came. Now, I'm not big on Christenings, or any sort of religion for that matter, but I am very respectful of those who are not hypocritical about it; those who live it. I once knew a mormon who I had a hell of a lot of respect for; because she lived her beliefs. This Christening? Present grabbing exercise; no more no less.

For starters, mum and dad aren't married. And I wonder how do you christen children in a church, when the religion itself would call them bastards? Money talks I imagine, but there is no way no how I would do any sort of religious ceremony on my children; we weren't married in a church (a chapel on some beautiful grounds), so how could we enter a church, without a sanctimonious marriage and christen our children? Doesn't work with me; but I would go to keep the peace.

Anyway. That same day, G's work Christmas party is on. At Puffing Billy. With Christmas presents for the kids, lollies and a whole lot of fun.

I assumed we'd be sucking it all up (as usual) and going to the stupid hypocritical christening so G could just 'keep the peace'. We're not though. He has chosen to go to the Christmas party. So they've hurt him more than I thought too; because he'd never do that.

Family suck.

PS: Dad is still same old same old; they won't start dialysis until his bowel starts bleeding and not coping with the treatment now. Awesome. Sane dad or insane dad, depending on the day. We're also goign to try and get into the house early so that we can have christmas there together; as we're starting to think it'll be dads last.

PPS - my sister hasn't found a job; my stupid parents are paying her. Would you get off your butt and look for a job when you were getting paid good money to sit on your arse? I have lost an awful lot of respect for that girl.

Regroup

I 'shut up shop' this weekend.

Not literally; although, once I was done with the kinder fete, I just about ran home. But, my family needed time as a family; and I wanted to be part of that.

G and the kids came down and had a great time at the fete. It was lovely to watch them together; I was even a tad envious that I couldn't be part of what they were at the time. Watching them without them knowing, I saw so much in their faces, their walks and their behaviours toward each other.

G loves those kids. It sounds so very blase I know, but he loves them. Watching his face light up when R got his face painted (R is nearly 7 and has only ever had it done once in his life - about 2 months ago), and laughing at C, who was trying to do somersaults on the jumping castle, just melted my heart.

Once we were home, we went out into the park with the kids bikes and him and I sat on a rug whilst Harvey dog wandered about and the kids tore down the hill on their bikes. We talked about what we wanted, where we wanted and why we wanted. Days like those are the days that bind us together; and whilst we did nothing important, it was a beautiful day spent with those I love most in the world.

We played trouble with the boys and ate a late dinner. Once the kids were showered, we put Harvey dog inside and bundled into the car down to the local park where our town festival was on. Pulled up a patch of grass and watched.

There's something really special about fireworks. I don't quite know what, but I felt happy. Sitting there with hundreds of other members of my community, watching my boys eyes light up with all the pretty lights, I felt complete. As though I have accomplished something I have been trying to do for a long time.

I think I can forgive.

I think I already have.

I caved this morning and rang mum; dad is doing really well. He's having regular gastro something or other (a tube down his throat to see how the bowel is handling everything) and, apart from reflux and heartburn, he's doing really well. One big change of note; the carbs have been backed right off on a hunch. And I think that it's working.

My logic is; when you go on a diet, you're told to eat low GI foods because they take longer to process. When your bowel is being used to flush crazies, logic says that you don't really want to tie it up with stupid carbs. So, on a logic hunch, we've cut back his carbs. And he's been NOT crazy for an entire week. And not just NOT crazy; SANE. Nearly coming-back-to-work sane.

I don't want to get my hopes up that we're finally managing something; I'm simply not prepared to crash as hard as I did earlier. But, it's a positive, and I'll take what I can get.

The rest of Sunday was spent packing and baking. I am beginning to simplify again and I feel really good about it. I have much more room in the new house in which to store stuff, make stuff and DO stuff; the possibilities are endless.

I want Santa to bring a sewing machine. Or, failing Christmas (hello, we've just bought a new house!!) - birthday. But, I want to learn to sew.

Finding the constant

I look forward to moving. It's funny; you pack up all the same stuff that you have gotten, dump it somewhere else - and it feels like a whole new life.

I am looking forward to my new house. To having more storage than I know what to do with; to being able to stock my pantry properly and fit another freezer in. To being able to keep jars and ingredients with which to bake.

I am looking forward to my vegie patch; I have already started vaguely drawing up plans and am going to start preparing it for Winter next year.

I am looking forward to simplifying again. Things around here have been so ridiculously complicated that I feel as though I have just wound myself up in a tight ball and am unable to untangle it. So, we will pack up and have a 'new start'.

It is the 'new' start of a long life. Many things are in the pipeline for changing; but the one thing I was so sure would change - has actually been about the only constant. My family.

My little beautiful family are all I have that is constant in this world; it's very humbling to know that. I know I made the right decision way back here and the more things change and get harder and harder to deal with; the more certain I am that I have all that I need.

Slowly things are starting to sort themselves out in every other which way; and I know that things will work out one way or another. I've given up fighting and making attempts to change things/see things differently with regards to my father; all we can ever do there is ride the ups and the downs. The ups and the downs aren't quite as severe these days, which is definately a good thing; although they are as constant as ever.

My extended family are also riding a wave of their own; accepting this, and all the other changes that have happened with my sister leaving and dad being sick. Some have, some haven't; and the way they choose to ride their wave is of no business of mine. I realise now that I am not so strong that I will never break; I have now broken, the cyst has burst and is now starting to heal for me. The others? Well, I'm not sure.

All I can do is make sure my one constant stays happy. My family and my boys.

Connor is FOUR next week. THAT is scary.