The Sun is Shining and Things Are Looking Up...

Last night when Child Number Three started with the puking, I thought, Oh No! Here we go again!?!?! And nearly went CRAZY. Really I have been sooo house bound. I look terrible. I meant did you see that photo on my last post? Awful. And that was the best of the lot.

But.

This morning is a new day. This morning Scrag ate breakfast and kept it down and laughed and smiled and played and ran around... and I said: Off to Kindy!!! Did I ever get around to mentioning that he started pre-school/kindy this week? Yeah. A great week to start. (I rang them to check it was OK to bring him and they said, yes as long as he has stopped vomiting. And I said, right, we'll be there!)

So now I have... one at school. One at kindy. And one boy who spent last night vomiting but this morning wants to play PS2. And eat. And go to school (is he kidding me??)

And he has not vomited since about 12.30am this morning.
So I am hopeful that the vomits are behind us. (Please please please let the vomits be behind us).

And then the sun came out.
And it felt like spring so I threw open the windows and doors and said... hello world!

Lyns

And then I checked my emails.
There was one from my friend and fellow-blogger Lyns who I was meant to hook up with this weekend. She has Swine Flu.

Oh no!!!! She has Widgey staying with her from Christchurch (where the earthquake was) for a conference. It's been planned for months. It's Widge's first time in Auckland. Ever. Poor Lyns. Poor Widgey.

Where can Widge stay? Who can she go to conference with?
Surely not the Plague House? Surely not the housebound mama?

I lay out the predicament before my loving husband and he said, Sure, she can stay here (the vomiting seems to have stopped remember; and it's still better than Swine Flu). And he said, sure you can go to conference tomorrow with Widgey in Lyns place. (Oh I love you my hubby, I really do, no matter what I may have said last night when I was cross and PO'd about the puking and all...)

Widge

So. The sun has come out and Widgey is coming to stay with me!!!
I'm going to put her in Miss Fab's Pretty Bedroom (Miss Fab can crash in our room on the couch)
It will be like hosting a celebrity!
I can't wait to meet her!
She gets to stay at my house (my ex-plague house... please let the puking have stopped for good...)

I am so pumped. My week has just turned from totally crappy to unbelievably great.

Poor Lyns. I'm sorry to steal Widgey away... I am so sad you have Swine Flu...

But I can't help being really really stoked that I get to have Widge at my house :)


And to top it all off, look at THIS!!! Yet another Miracle...

What is it????

Why, the bottom of my laundry basket of course!! Never before seen empty since the day it was bought. I have conquered the laundry! YeeeHaaar!!!

Things are lookin' up!
xx

Mother-Love

Lying beside my little son in his bunk bed last night, gazing at his sweet small face, I felt such a wave of love I almost drowned.

He is my third child. My third baby. Precious and unique. Special. I love him with all my heart.

I remember my anxiety when I became pregnant with baby number two. Was it possible to love another child as much as I loved my first? Would I now have to split my love between the two? Would there be enough to go round?

I needn't have worried. What I didn't know then is this... Mother-love is not finite like a pie.

If mother-love was a pie, there'd be a limited supply to cut up and share between children. The more kids you had the further your limited supply would have to stretch and therefore the smaller each child's portion.

But Mother-love is not like a Pie. Mother-love is like a Well.*

There is an endless supply, enough for all. I can keep drawing on it, enough for everyone. I have more love now than I did at first. With each new child my love has multiplied, not divided. And my third gets as much love as my first.

Pondering all this got me thinking about the miracle that mother-love is.

Having a child transforms you instantly, to something other than what you were before. It opens up an unknown world. It's like stepping Through the Looking Glass, Alice.

As Morpheus said in The Matrix: "The Red pill or the Blue pill? You take the Red Pill and go through the Looking Glass... and find out how deep the Rabbit Hole goes..."

We mothers have taken the Red Pill. For us everything changed in that instant our child entered the world. In the second that double blue line showed up on the stick (or however it is that we came to be mothers) we are changed forever.

As my friend Sammy puts it so eloquently: "A baby is born and a piece of my heart starts living and breathing outside my body ..."

Isn't it amazing what mothers can do? We may be sick ourselves, but we still manage to care for our children, as my lovely friend Kristy recently commented: "I remember vomiting while at the same time holding a bowl for a not-yet-two year old to vomit into. Crazy..."

Or some kid picks on our little guy, and we turn into a fierce Lioness going into bat for our kid and making sure a bully is stopped, like my friend Alicia did recently.

Mothering changes the way we see the world. Through the other side of the Looking Glass we are alert to dangers we never knew were there, sensitised to the loss and pain of others, horrified and uncomprehending how anyone could ever hurt a child. The TV News becomes almost too painful to watch.

Mothering links us together with others who share our experiences. Our pain and struggles become our passports to empathy. Our fears for our childrens well-being, our anxiety over how well we are doing and our guilt at our percieved failings are shared with women the world over.

There is no Rule Book, no Instruction Manual, no Owners Guide handed out with a newborn baby. We are all fumbling in the dark, trying our best and hoping our best is good enough.

Our job description is immense and varied. I found this here:

In the past week I have not left my house once, as I spent every waking minute caring for my sick vomit-stricken children. And I would have gone crazy were it not for you, my online community of fellow-mothers. As the walls closed in on me, between pukes, I could escape here. And not feel isolated or alone. I had your messages of encouragement and the outlet of writing about it all, to stop me from going completely nuts.

We need each other.

We all do things differently, come up with different things that work for us. Some are BabyWise, others swear by the Baby Whisperer. SuperNanny vs. The Toddler Tamer. Baby wearing, breast-feeding, cloth-diapering eco-mums vs. disposable nappy formula feeding Phil & Ted-pushing yummy mummies.

But in the end we are our babies' mamas, ready to become lionesses at the first sign of danger, scoping out the area for trouble. And needing each other for support, for encouragement, for sisterhood and community.

So thankyou, my bloggy friends. The vomiting has not ended yet, but I know it has to sometime. And in the meantime I can visit you here, even if I don't get to leave my house, or put on makeup or wash my hair...

At least I have you. My Mother Sisters.
xx


P.S. Check out this great article in a Post by Dee. So True. So Funny. (So the one I was looking for but didn't find it til I saw it on Dee's blog)

* The Well and the Pie is not my own analogy. I borrowed it from a preacher. He was using it to explain something else, but I think it fits here too.

Wordless Wednesday (with captions)

Is that a DUCK on my roof?

It is. A duck. On my roof.

I wonder what he is doing up there?

Oh. A romantic getaway for two.

Back to reality.

My poor sick baby sleeping {while I steal a few minutes of me-time and ask the Universe some very deep questions...}

How many nappies can you change in one day?

13,201 when diarrhoea is involved...

{at least that's what it feels like. Change a nappy, smell a stink, wipe a backside, change a nappy, smell a stink...}

How many days can a schoolgirl stay off school?

Until she is eating again. Can't send her to school until she can eat.
And walk without assistance.

*Sigh*

How long can a nappy bag stay on top of a roof? {yes it's still there}

Until the wind blows it within reach and mummy can get rid of it herself, I guess.

And what do you do when you are so tired from changing 13,202 diarrhoea nappies, washing drying and folding 14,327 loads of sick-up bedding clothes and towels, emptying and sterilising 1400 sick bowls, dishing out pamol, wiping fevered brows, watching endless mindless kids cartoons and cooking dinner for the ones still eating?

Why, you iron your tea towels of course! So satisfying.

{help! I really am going crazy! get me out of here I've lost it lostit lost it lost it it it ititititititititit...}

Telegram from the Edge

S.O.S. // S.O.S. // S.O.S. // S.O.S. //

SURVIVED WEEKEND WITH SICK CHILD STOP

VOMITING STOPPED TODAY STOP

CHILD STILL NOT EATING NOW VERY THIN STOP

ASLEEP IN HER OWN BED AT LAST STOP

EMERGENCY CRY SOUNDED FROM BOYS ROOM JUST NOW STOP

BOTTOM BUNK COVERED IN PUKE STOP

LITTLE GUY WEARING SPAGHETTI UPCHUCK STOP

ROUND TWO HAS STARTED SEND HELP NOW STOP

S.O.S. // S.O.S. // S.O.S. // S.O.S. //

Loving...NOT Loving: This Weekend

Loving Having Friends Over After School on Friday...

 

Loving little boys playing with tractors. And little girls playing dressups. Baking Gluten Free cupcakes and chatting with a friend... until...

...the Puking started.

NOT LOVING THE PUKING!!

Poor Miss Fab was not eating any cupcakes. She was complaining of a sore tummy. I thought nothing of it, mumbled something vaguely sympathetic and carried on sipping my coffee, talking to my friend.

Suddenly there was puke all over my kitchen floor and Miss Fab was crying, "See Mummy I TOLD you I had a sore tummy...!"

NOT Loving that the Puking Always Starts When Daddy is Out of Town

Say no more.
You can imagine my night. Puking, Changing Sheets. Holding Hair Back. Rushing to empty buckets, washing bedding, and comforting the poor sick brave girl.
Not much sleep.

Come morning I knew that I had to get some help. Somebody to take the boys off my hands so I could concentrate on my very ill patient, who didn't want me to leave her sight.

So I switched on my computer and FaceBooked an SOS. Help!! Two energetic Boys free to a good home!!
I had an immediate response from the lovely Laura in Connecticut offering for me to put them on a plane to her... sweet (so appreciated) but totally impractical of course :(

So I left a message on hubby's phone.

"AbFab really sick. Need some help or you might have to come home..."

We started txting madly and before long I had offers of...

~ An all-day playdate for Dash
~ Door-to-door delivery of Popsicles for the Patient
~ A young couple willing to incorporate Scrag into their Date and shopping expedition.

I am LOVING my Awesome Friends

The lovely Meg turned up on my doorstep with a Box of lemonade Popsicles for Miss Fab, a couple of PS2 games for Dash, some books and puzzles for Scrag and some homemade Brownie for me! All presented with a bunch of hand-picked freesias. I am sooooo loving Meg. She is a wonderful friend.

Dash went off to spent a day rolling in the mud with his classmate Ed.

Our awesome friends Rachel & Nathan spent  time playing trains and cars with Scrag before they took him off to share their romantic date. Reassured that they were "good peoples" he went off happy as Larry with his Choochoo train lunch box packed with treats.

Rachel txted later that Scrag was "So happy!" and they enjoyed playing mum and dad for the day. What a pair of Legends. Aren't they gorgeous?? (You can bet that when they have their own babies they will have a willing babysitter right here)

Much much later, after a day of holding back hair, rationing water-sips and emptying vomit buckets in a peaceful house, my boys came home happy after a great day out. I chucked them in the bath, made them cheese & egg toasties and put them to bed, ready for another night shift.

Poor Miss Fab was so truly miserable she didn't even want to lay on the couch and watch TV. She just wanted to snuggle with me in my bed...

LOVING the Wisdom of Handy Manny

As we were laying there, between pukes, My little patient whispered to me, "Mummy, on Handy Manny it said you shouldn't get close to a sick person. Are you going to get sick too?"

I melted. Went all gooey from top to toe. Bless her caring little heart.

"Darling, that's just what us mummy's do. We look after you when you are sick. And if we get sick too, well, that's a risk we have to take..."

Right then I felt like some kind of SuperHero facing danger, putting my gut on the line for my sick child. That's just what mummies do.

LOVING My Boys. And Having Daddy Home.

Daddy made it home this morning to take the boys to church for a special Fathers Day service. (Yes it was Fathers Day here in New Zealand. Lucky I was prepared in advance!)

I got my boys all spiffied up in their sharp new gears so their daddy would be proud to step out with them. Don't they look handsome? Daddy decided to be matching too. Gotta love these guys. They are special.

LOVING the Fathers Day Card by Dash {the reluctant artist}

Awwww, daddy loved it too. And of course he got the "Vaocha for cisie" from Miss Fab.

NOT Loving Super Bugs that Race Through School like an Epidemic

I've heard of quite a few of Miss Fab's classmates who have been laid low with this same misery this weekend.

I am NOT Loving that this tummy bug has lingered now for 48 hours. Miss Fab has had fever bright eyes and flushed cheeks, a temperature (after paracetamol) of 39oC and is still vomiting up what little is left in her gut. Which is pretty much Nothing. I HATE my kids being sick.

I phoned the Healthline to get a second opinion on what I was dealing with and anything else I could be doing to care for my patient... apparently I'm doing what I should be. "Keep Calm and Carry On" was the advice... just like the war.

Right now she is sleeping again, and Daddy has the boys. You can bet she won't be at school tomorrow. But I'm hoping at least she may be able to hold down more than a sip of water. And her tummy won't be aching from all the heaving. And her fever will have dropped and the chills and aches will have gone. And she'll be able to move from the bed and watch TV like a recovering child. Not lie on my bed like a poor sick rag doll.

And through all of this, what's the thing I am most LOVING?
My daughter. My brave, sweet, uncomplaining patient of a daughter.

{and LOVING this Eva Cassidy Song...Songbird}

How was your weekend? (Hope it was better than mine)

Fingerprint Friday

"Seeing God's fingerprints everywhere..."

Today I am seeing God's fingerprints in my daughter's creativity...

...her love of colour and attention to detail...

...her joy in creating and pride in her work...

...her distress over a precious work of art destroyed by a careless individual...

...and her painstaking rescue efforts to restore her creation...

...her thoughtfulness, remembering Father's Day coming on Sunday and doing something about it, unprompted...

...her generosity and ingenuity making a "voucher for kisses" for her daddy, complete with packaging...

...her sense of fun and joy {and finding these images of her on my camera when I went to upload}

 

...her beauty, her spark, her preciousness, her innocence...

I see God's fingerprints all over her.

Where are you seeing God's fingerprints lately??

{Linking up with Beki's Fingerprint Friday}

xx

Musical Beds (a game for five players)

This game is played in Teams, Kids vs. Parents.
The Object of the game is to confuse the heck out of the Parents Team and send them spinning into a sleep deprived haze.

How the game is played...

Everybody starts off in their own beds.

During the night the bed-moving begins when one or more players:

• has a bad dream
• falls out of bed
• loses their dummy
• wets the bed
• cries in a loud voice threatening to wake all other players

Players can also use a stealth approach and just sneak into the Parents Team's bed while they are sleeping. A successful stealth raid means the parents forfeit a good nights sleep without even realising it.

 In the morning if the Parents are alone in their bed with no children present, they are declared the winners. {The statistical likelihood of this occurring diminishes with each additional child added to the family.}

If however, morning comes and there are...

• one or more children wriggled in between the parents
• one or more parents sleeping in a child's bed (or on the couch)

...then the Kids Team is declared the winner. Bonus points for five in the bed.

The prize is two grumpy parents and a packet of short fuses.

Do you ever play this fun game at your house??