Future Dealers

They set up shop in the road behind our house, Loom bracelets ready for trade.

Son#1 declared it his worst day ever.

Tomorrow, Son#2 is off to the in-laws' for a sleepover.

I rediscovered the wooden spoon (a.k.a. Mr. Discipline).

Results so far: gooooood.

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Regurgitate

We went to Amsterdam on Sunday, the husband and Son#1 went to a car show, and #2, #3 and I went to the Vondelpark, found a tiny bistro with burgers and waited for the rain to stop.
It was good.
#2 and #3 were utterly fascinated by the trams.
We really should get out more.
But artistic Son#2 told me that he had butterflies in his belly because of all the new things he was seeing, bless.

Yesterday, Sons #2 and #3 took part in the King's day activities and got a large bag of candy for their efforts.
We are more republic-inclined, to tell you the truth, making me feel like a freeloading fraud by being there.
Ha.

The husband gave me a good talking-to about stress and what has happened to my mind and body, and also that he's making this decision FOR me: I have to leave my job.
Yay emancipation, but strangely, it feels blooming fantastic that someone else is taking the reins.
We are working out our (tight, cinch-cinch) budget.
That old adage of if-you-keep-doing-the-same-thing-you-get-the-same-results.
I'll need legal advice, methinks.

It's the May holidays though.
The boys and I will bake a cake today and hang around the house.
The husband cleared the old play-tower-thing  in the garden last night, readied for a more civilized version we bought on the cheap, with long blue slide and a roof so the boys can play outside in winter too.
Change is a-coming


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Fine Young Criminals

Son#2 has his first ever own rugby tournament this morning.

He's been up since 6, getting dressed up in his rugby gear.

Son#3 is testing-testing his new-found Boyhood at the Big School.

Pity.

I was so hoping he would stay sweet and loving.

This afternoon we're driving towards the coast to go buy a second-hand bread hook for the bread machine.

We keep ourselves busy.

The May holiday has started, two weeks of togetherness whilst I'm thinking I need some time alone.

Son#1 falls asleep with me every night, the husband depositing him in his own bed later.

But from sun up to sundown, I have kids with me.

Books and solitude.

Sigh.

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Day of rest? For whom?!?

Son#3, who is utterly knackered after a long day at school yesterday, has a day off.

He talks a lot.

He asks a lot.

If I answer with an 'I'll think about it', he tells me that WE will indeed think about it, and then answer with a 'YES'.

Dictator with curls, I assure you.

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Sunshine

I spent the afternoon sitting in the sun under the blossoming pear tree.

The boys were off playing in a self-built hut.

Son#3 watered everything and then some.

We raked the leaves and pulled some weeds.

A mountain of rogue grass tufts and pretty flowering weed-like  mini-plants still await someone.

I won't be able to move my arms tomorrow, methinks.

We drank wine and ate salads with Haloumi cheese, limes and avocado.

Simple, but good.

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Connect/Disconnect

I woke from a disturbing dream, dreaming that my dad had just passed away for the second time.
Dreams are abstract, as is our place in the world.

I lay awake thinking of 2 girls I knew.
The first girl, whom I knew for a while whilst living in France, now lives in Houston, married to a man who is the twin brother and husband of the second girl, now living in Edinburgh, who went to school and uni with me in Pretoria.
Strangely, these twin men, used to live in Durban (1400 km away from Pretoria and where I'm from), and went to the same school as I.
Their younger brother, Carel, was in MY class and used to fart in class regularly, and our teacher, who had an enormous beehive, would then strike a match.

The world is small but big.
My connection to it is getting smaller but more eclectic.
Some connections are abstract, most are concrete.
Is this just a regular feature of getting older?

I went to bed, holding Son#1's hand, pulling my other hand through his hair (he loves that).
He told me that when I am gone and he is a grandfather, he'll remember my hands.
Bless.


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The good, the bad & the ugly

The (very) good news is that I don't have cancer anywhere in my body.
The PET-scan was clear.
I probably have celiac's disease, but that's okay: I wasn't planning on blasting myself with gluten again anyway.

The bad & ugly news is that there is NO answer to explain all my symptoms and there is NO protocol to follow that will get me back to 'better'.
Back to the drawing board.

When I picked the kids up from school, a concerned mum asked if I were perhaps in the menopause??
No.
I just look like crap, thankyouverybloomingmuch.
(That was the point where I started crying. Again.).
But this prompted me to blow my food budget on skincare products.
Lots of skincare products.
My days of putting coconut oil (nice, make no mistake), are over.
And it feels goooooood.

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Educational Genesis

Here's to new beginnings.

A lifetime of learning still awaits my youngest.

I hope I can see him and his brothers a long ways through.

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A mantra for every day

And I mean: Every. Day.

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Nothing more beautiful

Happy 4th birthday, Bucky Boy.

You're a SPECIAL one, you are!

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Ease slowly into the day

The husband is cleaning the kitchen while I'm lazing in bed.
The boys turn their anger on at the drop of a hat.
I am mortally tired today, but we have to clean the house for the inlaws' visit tomorrow when Son#3 will turn into a four year old blighter.

Meanwhile, a flea market is in full swing at the boys' school: they have their hearts set on getting something today.
The sun has come and gone and we're back to rain.
All the while, I feel like I need sick leave from sick leave.
Come on Energy! Show thyself!


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Beam me up, Scotty

My fever is down a bit: might be the antibiotics from my dentist doing the trick?

Today I'm getting zapped and studied.
It's a beautiful day in the Nether Lands.
A beautiful day to get this zapping-business over and done with.
One life to LIVE.


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Sick Lamb

I didn't sleep last night.

Son#3 is utterly wasted.

How he managed to stay awake, I don't know.

Tomorrow, the jaw surgeon and then my dreaded PET/CT scan.

Sigh.

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When it rains, it pours

Rushing to the work doctor, back again to pick kids up at school.

We had lunch, a fight with Son#1 who refused to study for a test on Friday.

Rushing to the dentist, then grocery shopping, Son#1's drawing class.

Home to drop the shopping off, back to pick up Son#1, who then managed to cut his head open on his way to the car.

Blood STREAMING down his face, and Son#3 tells me that he is going to vomit.

In between, I made a gazillion treats for Son#3's LAST day at kindergarten tomorrow, which I fear he'll miss out on.

In a nutshell, my day.

Son#3 lies in a sad little heap next to my bed.

We get up every 15 minutes.

It's going to be a loooooong night.

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Losing it

We had a nice-ish Easter breakfast with Son#2 only storming away twice and one crying bout, courtesy of Son#3.
The aftermath of cleaning up however, turned into an adult tantrum (mine).
Today we have to go to the in-laws and possibly meet my brother-in-law's new girlfriend.
I don't feel up to being nice and I feel quite ashamed of that.

The week ahead and what's store, is hefty.
The company doctor, dentist, jaw surgeon and a PET-scan. 
I feel quite depressed actually.
Even my uber-waterproof mascara cannot withstand my deluge of tears.
Sigh.

After my hysterical screaming, everyone left me alone.
That was good.


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Life

Next week I'm getting a PET-scan. 

No, it's not a scan of one's pet, but a scary procedure involving radioactive crap and cancer.

Must not think about it too much.

In a way, I'm utterly screwed whichever way I turn.

If they find nothing, I'm still stuck with ill health and no way of treating it, but if they do find something, I'm stuck with the consequences...

Sigh.

My university courses are being put on ice.

I realize I have been overly and unrealistically optimistic, and this illness isn't planning on going away soon.

Nearly 5 months with daily high fevers ain't for sissies.

Son#3 asserts himself, Son#2 gets mad and sad in a single breath and Son#1 has turned mostly docile.

The husband is down after & during our ongoing stress.

I miss my mother and being mothered.

I'm a forty year-old nitwit.

Spring is coming though.

Life keeps pushing out its new leaves, new lambs in the fields and new nests in the shrubs around our garden.

I set out a bowl with seeds for the birds (and possibly a bunch of freeloading mice too) every day: the pigeons make a helluva mess but the sparrows clean it up.

It keeps me busy and my mind occupied with Allied troops.

Good thoughts.

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