We will die, DIE I tell you…

As the winter sun burned a little brighter this weekend, the mood in our home lifted into summery smiles and carefree peals of laughter. Discarding our coats with reckless abandonment we sprang into spring like a family possessed.

We hit the park, fed the ducks and basked in the sunlight, all was good and happy in our world.

Then we decided to learn to ride our bikes on the road… More

I want to change my children

I grew you, do you know that?
I grew you from being smaller than a spec of sand. Your fingers and thumbs were defined within me; your hearts starting beating next to my own. You all first sucked your thumbs safe inside my chocolate filled belly; you were created with a passion and sustained by love. More

Gin rummy and a dangling boob…

I am hovering somewhere between the land of nod and the world of sheer exhaustion. Luckily for me my valentines date is right with me riding the wave of knackeredness. More

Operation Day: every cloud…

The silver lining in the cloud.

BB’s operation was in medical terms, a success. I am not sure BB would describe it as such but medically she should have a happy hip in years to come.

The day started at four am and finished at nine pm; my daughter handled herself with a gentle grace that made me swell with pride. She beamed at the anaesthetic and floated off to sleep with a smile tingling on her lips. She awoke with a chatter and regaled the nurses with gibberish tales of her drug induced dreams, pausing only to shed a tear when she saw her mummy arrive.

She is scared, I see her fear in her eyes when we lift her from the bed, this new weight binds her legs and she is too little to really understand.

She is brave, she has coped with every wire, every probe, every check. She has yanked at my heart when she has smiled her thanks to the team looking after her.

And did you know, when she sleeps the heart monitor shows us her heart beats about 100 times a minute. When she sleeps and we lay our lips on her forehead trying to erase her pain with a kiss her heart beats just a little bit faster.

What an incredible way for the heart to say I love you.

DDH: before the spica cast…

Dear BB,

The last few weeks have flown by and suddenly your operation is less than a breath away. The doctors have told me you should be in theatre for four to five hours but have warned it will feel like eternity, I remember last time, I know it will taste like forever. More

I’m just a mum

I’m just a mum, one of far too many, all sitting in a brightly lit children’s play area secluded in the corner of the hospital. More

it’s time to say goodbye old friend

Its time to say goodbye my friend.

I had hoped we could spend more time together, travelling, visiting new places, maybe even going overseas. More

Hear me roar

I woke up with a roar this morning; my mood filthier than a sailors language. Every bite the kids took of their toast followed by every excruciatingly loud wet smacking swallow made me want to lay on the floor covering my ears kicking my legs like a tantruming toddler.

The world was against me, frost lay heavy on the car mocking he who helped create them as he furiously scraped and rubbed trying to get the vehicle roadworthy enough to deliver his Medusa style wife to work on time.

As I dressed I cursed my belly full of cake as I struggled into clothes meant for a woman of smaller size than me. My tights had the last laugh as they waited until they were secured around my middle, with the hidden stomach flattening panel doing a great job of hiding, then they revealed a ladder most fireman would be proud to climb meaning I had to start the whole act of dressing all over again.

The baby sobbed as her mother left her once more each cry a sorry reminder of the guilt ridden price us BOTTOM’s* have to pay.

In the car the twins squabbled, arguing over creatures from Monstro City and slowly picking at each other until their quarrels invoked my shout. Face red as a clowns squeaky uncomical nose and my temper flying I yelled like a banshee issuing some fantastical threats.

Still it seems the reality behind my melodramatic screams have been revealed as within five minutes the bickering resumes and my blood continued to simmer.

At the station I cursed those who ran for the train, crudely leaping in front of those of us who had sat waiting for its arrival punctually all hoping against hope that we would secure a tasty warm seat for our cold little bottoms.

Once on the train, I fought my way to seat and sat in it proudly. I bent to retrieve a paper as the carriage filled up around me and I chuckled to my self as I closed my eyes in comfort. Suddenly I heard a groan which disturbed my serenity and as I cracked open my eyes there it was; the next crappy thing to happen in a generally crappy morning.

A belly as wide as a sumo wrestler, squirming with arms and legs that were eager to break free of their sac. A woman continued to moan as she looked around for a haven for her and backside to rest. Eyes dropped in the carriage, the carpet became a source of great interest. No room at the inn, move along now my dear.

Bugger,

I raised from my seat and slowly, reluctantly took my place on my feet cradling my own bulging cake filled tummy.

“Thank you” she breathed as she dropped in my warm toasty chair. “Only two weeks to go till these two come out, its twins and I have an 18month old at home.” She said rubbing her tummy with a lovely naïve beam.

I walked away down the carriage thumping my bags chuttering at my own poor luck, then a smile began to crack through my lips.

It is important to remember that when life is a bit naff and you awake with a roar, someone is always worse off that you are. Currently that poor sod is currently sitting in my seat!

*BOTTOM – bugger off to the office mummy

I dont know if we can take anymore…

At times it feels like I am being punished by the big man in the sky.

Not content with sending epilepsy and ddh into my family it seems I have a new ailment to contend with. One that again doesn’t seem to have any cure. More

my secret loathing

I have a secret loathing.

In fact if I am true to myself it is verging on pure hatred, an emotion that I don’t often feel. More

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Copyright © Jane Blackmore and Northernmum, 2010-2011. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jane Blackmore and Northernmum with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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