So much for my "Fortune favours those willing to get a bit wet." I had big plans for today, but I've wussed out of them because I might have got a bit damp.

It was opportunity time. Overnight I was minus two kids! - though not in the way that Jeanie suggested in last post's comments. Ms 12 is away Monday to Friday on her Year 6 Sydney excursion. Ms 9 was away last night for her Year 3, and first, overnight excursion! Woo hoo!

While the kittens were away, you'd think Mummy and Daddy Mouse might play, but there was still the remaining issue of Ms 14, the fact that He and She played netball till 7.30, and I had committed to clubhouse patrol. And then home, make dinner.. watch an interesting show on the tv about the homing pigeons in WW2, meh...

But! A group of BUG (Bicycle User Group) peoples were doing a long ride today, starting at 7 am. I realised that I was free from my usual SAHM duties for this one morning - yee ha! Ms 14 can look after herself, and so I could, guilt-free, just get up and go.

I was really looking forward to this.

So, of course, there is rain. Had one of the riders who lives the other side of town not rung to say it was raining where she lived, I might not have got up and checked the radar. There was clear sky to my east (and a rainbow to the west!)

But the radar showed LOTS of rain to the west. Coming this way, but it looked to me like it might dissipate nearer the coast. She rang me back, had discussed with others and they were going.

I got into my bike gear, and was nearly on my way, when Marc came down and looked at the radar. "It will definitely rain" said he, of greater meterological understanding than me.

So I piked.

I even went back to bed.

Main excuse was 'time of month', and not wanting wet bike nix... if you know what I mean... BUT.

Look at what the rain is doing. It's missing the area they are riding in. (which I've marked with a circle.)




And so now I am going to spend the rest of the day beating myself up about it.

Labels: grrrrr

"So how did you go with labour?"

That was a loaded question from the doctor who had just cut a couple of tiny moles (or dark spots or whatever they were) out of my back. I had exclaimed and winced a few times because, frankly, the local anaesthetic bloody stung. Three times! (She did one area twice - probably after I jumped when I could actually feel stinging when she put a couple of stitches in the first one.)

"Well.. um... I had gas at the end for two of them... what? are you saying that I'm a wuss?"

"Oh.. you just seemed a bit... sensitive..."

Pain. It's such a subjective thing isn't it? And I had decided long ago that comparing birth stories in the context of pain control and heroics was totally inappropriate because everyone's pain experience and tolerance is so subjective.

With me, my pain tolerance is also an inconsistent thing. Yes I did last through three longish labours without epidurals or pethidine.. (But the one where I lost the baby at 19 weeks - and was induced - I was all for as much pethidine as they'd give me.) When I was stitched up one adrenalin-drained hour after the not-even-any-gas birth of #3 I was going through the roof and the bastard doctor that did it was extremely disparaging of my pain tolerance.

Who is he or anyone to gauge what pain level anyone is experiencing during labour (and the aftermath..) ?

I will push through a fair bit of muscular pain with the bike riding, yet I'm the first to throw back paracetemol - (plus codeine) - with headaches, and any pains that might threaten to nag indefinitely. And I'll sure as hell go *OUCH* and *OW* when someone sticks a needle in me somewhere and then squirts that wretched stingy stuff into me!

And let's not even talk about local anaesthetics in your gums.

Anyway - in the context of yesterday - well, I never knew it was all meant to be some sort of Stoicness contest.

But I spent the rest of yesterday (and today still!) a bit miffed at the insinuation that I was hyper-sensitive. Then I googled 'pain'and 'sensitive' and found one study had found that women with low estrogen were more susceptible to pain.

Bingo.

I'm 45. I'm heading into Menopause-Land, and I've actually been diagnosed with low estrogen levels. And when I checked the calendar this morning I realised that I could/should be premenstrual as well.

So all in all this doctor yesterday was lucky I didn't snap her head off as well. And given the two hacked bits on my back are nigglingly sore today, she's lucky she won't cross paths with me today.

Maybe I have to accept that at times I'm just a sensitive flower. But if you call me that this week I might just jump through your monitor and rip yer bloody arms off.

Labels: grrrrr

I hate commercial television, specifically Channel 10. For buying Torchwood, which is a 'cult' TV show (more suited to the intelligent people who watch Dr Who on the ABC), and then f***ing around with it, and burying it in a MIDNIGHT TIMESLOT. Wtf?

And then giving the wrong information about their programming, so that The TV guide in the paper had it scheduled back in its original timeslot at 9.40pm on Monday night. So I set the timer recording for it at that time and missed it.

What I really, really hate is that it has just dawned on me that the midnight timeslot that I thought they actually broadcast it on was not in the wee hours of Tuesday morning, but Wednesday morning, and we didn't *think* about that last night when we thought we'd missed it. And so we REALLY missed it. AGAIN.

I believe... Channel 10 is totally f***ed.

I believe... they should stick to showing American shows, and leave the good stuff from Britain to the ABC.

.. in fact... I believe they should hand over the rest of the Torchwood series to the ABC who can treat it with the respect it deserves. (And where there would be no effing ads.)

I believe I want to get hold of the episode I missed. Somehow.

Seriously.

Labels: grrrrr

But I do anyway. It's just about manners - or common courtesy.

Back at the beginning of the netball season, the mother of a kid in #2's team rang me to ask if I could take her daughter to training on Thursday afternoons because she works. I didn't know her (yet) but I said fine, while trying to shrug off a slight feeling of irritation that I tend to get in these situations. I'm happy to car pool anytime, but I can be a bit hypersensitive when parents who work 'use' me because I don't. (Yet I very often feel inferior because I don't have a job.) The kids go to the same school - this kid is a couple of years below Alison - and I only have to go a block or so out of my way. And this mother reckoned she could drop Alison home. AND, as is inevitable, I found out just recently that she's a single mum, so, yeah, she doesn't really have a choice about work... so I felt guilty for feeling annoyed. Not everyone has the luxury of choice to stay home and taxi my kids around that I have.

After one week of training we were away for a week on the Big Ride, and first Thursday back I got just about to training with Alison before we realised we'd forgotten to pick up this kid! I drove the 5 km back to get her, then back again, because I would have felt guilty about not taking her as I'd committed to!

A few weeks later we turned up to pick her up one afternoon, and she wasn't there. Her older sister didn't have a clue where she was. The next week when I picked her up I asked where she was. She said she forgot about training. And her mother apparently went crook on her for forgetting. I did think it was a bit odd that her mother never rang to apologise - as I would have in the reverse situation. OR made the kid ring. That's what I would have done with my kid in the same situation! Just manners. Common courtesy.

The first few weeks of training I'd stayed - mainly to help the new coach find her way around - plus I got gasbagging to people, so I'd never taken her up on the offer to bring Alison home. When I saw her she insisted she could, so since then I had let her. May as well take up the offer.

Then a few weeks back Ali was really late getting home. The kid had babbled something about her mother possibly being late, but I did think it would have made sense for her to ring me if she was going to be delayed. Instead the poor volunteer coach had to wait in the dark and cold for this woman to come! I rang the coach myself to apologise (even though it wasn't my fault!) And I left a message on this mother's answering machine to say to not hesitate to call me if she's having difficulty getting away from work. Never heard from her.

Hmmm. Oh well.

But today! I turned up to pick the kid up, and the older sister said she'd been taken to training with her Nanna!! Gee, thanks for letting me know!

When I got to training I said to her 'Where were you, M?...I came to pick you up!'.

"Oh, my Nana brought me."

"OK, but I didn't know that! Perhaps you could have let me know you didn't need a lift!"

"We didn't have your phone number."

"Huh?.. I meant Mum could have let me know." (as her mum does have my number!)

"Mum didn't know Nanna was taking me."


Terrific.

So, yeah, not the Mum's fault. BUT. If I don't get a phone call from her to apologise, I am going to STAY annoyed. And very tempted to just not turn up to pick the kid up next week.

Or am I just being over sensitive?

***
[Actually, I found out that the mum DID know.. the older sister told Alison that the kid was supposed to tell Alison at school. Also, I do know that they have to move house in a week or so, and that the mother was pretty stressed about it all...so I suppose that should constitute mitigating circumstances...]

Labels: grrrrr

Just lately (and a lot of the time if I am honest with myself), I'd fit in rather well with the Grumpy Old Women of that British TV series. (Those of you who know me well would know how much I identify with the Grumpy Old Women at Christmas!)

It must be the age... some of them are only in their 40s - so I qualify. It's just that there are a few things around here that are driving me nuts. Yesterday, despite it being a public holiday, I felt myself sliding insidiously into Grump Mode. Partly the weather.. which came over all cloudy, rainy and, yes, cool. Nothing like the cool that other parts of the world get, but it's change of season 'cool' for me. I am sure that doesn't help one's mood.

So today? I am Officially Grumpy. And it's basically the little things that are setting me off!

** The Middle daughter is currently in a phase of doing handstands (as opposed to the headstands pictured right... I just haven't managed to catch this latest.. habit.. on camera.) So she is constantly doing handstands. In the loungeroom. It is not a big loungeroom area - a 2m x 3m rug, basically. There is no doubt she is pretty good at them (I confess I could never do handstands), but the legs flail around a bit. Sometimes a lot. And cause a bit of a breeze... and a flickering shadow because of the wall lights on the far wall, and ffs, it's just so bloody annoying!! It doesn't matter how often I tell her to stop, she is driven to it. (She has been like this before... years ago it was cartwheels - so she started acrobatic lessons that a dance teacher was running, so the cartwheels in the house eased off. But then she learnt headstands, so it was headstands everywhere... as pictured...) This latest habit is doing MY head in though! It is only a matter of time before she hurts herself or someone else. Or smashes into the TV. Last night she abused Zoe for putting the recliner on the lounge out while SHE was doing handstands. (Guess who copped an earful?!!)

** While I'm on middle daughter she's also taken to whistling. Tunelessly. Arrrghhh.. it drives me insane. I am such a horrible mother I just growl at her to stop it!! I can cope with the flute and recorder practice. But the whistling!! No!!

** Eldest daughter can't whistle, but learnt how to make a hooting noise by blowing through her hands. The other two soon caught on, so when all three start... I go demented. I also got a bit stroppy when eldest was doing it on the back of the tandem!!

** And why is it none of the girls can turn the tap in the bathroom off properly? Anytime that I go to the loo on the middle floor after they have gone to school, guaranteed, I'll sit on the loo (usually I've bolted up there for a visit of the longer type duration!!) and then I hear it *plink, plink, plink* And I have to endure it till I've finished what I went in there for. Yep.. it drives me nuts.

** While I'm in the bathroom, we have a bit of a flushing issue with our loos at the moment... (we do need to replace the cisterns, but it's all on hold now till we extend - we once went to look for replacement cisterns and there was some ridiculous issue and complication and expense involved...) So the deal for now is, when you flush you have to hold the button down till the flush has finished, otherwise the cistern cock won't reseal or something, and the cistern just continues to leak water into the bowl. So, yes, it's a bit of a pain, but it's a doable workaround, and takes, what, an extra 5 seconds? The eldest in particular is so chronically lazy, that she refuses to do it properly, and will just leave the toilet unflushed. The number of times I go up to the bathroom in the morning, and find it like that... full of paper and *ahem*... GRRRRR! And she is unrepentant. It's all OUR fault because we haven't provided her with a 'properly working' toilet, and far be it for her to have to spend 5 extra seconds of her precious time!! (I'll add in here that toilet bowls in Australia are different to the north-american style - To quote from a Wikipedia article about a Simpsons episode: "Whereas toilets in America flush with the bowl being first emptied of its wastes and then refilled with fresh water, Australian toilets are flushed by having fresh water rush into the bowl from all around the inside rim, and displace the waste by washing it over the S-bend and down the drain." Just in case you're trying to imagine it from your own loo experience.)

** What else do they do? Or not do, more to the point. They can never hang their towels up. Can't put clothes away.. At the moment there is a pile of stuff - clothes, books, etc - in the middle of the room that Alison and Zoe share. Zoe's doing I gather. "What is this for? I asked this morning. "A bonfire?"

** They have also taken to blaming me and my laundry system for when they can't find items of clothing. Despite the fact that all the dry laundry goes straight up to my room. (Only other place it could be is in the cabinet dryer in the laundry if it's been raining.) It will then either be still in the basket, unsorted, (or, ok, maybe in a pile on the floor, unsorted.) If sorted it will be either in the ironing pile or in 'their' basket, ready for being taken down to their room and put away. Not hard to guess that in this house those baskets get pretty full (then they rummage through them...and grrrrr!) But somehow, if they can't find things it's MY fault. Last week when they had friends around and I succumbed to taking them to the beach, my younger two couldn't find their rash shirts. Mum's fault of course. I found Zoe's stuffed in a bag she'd taken shopping? (Hmmm... must have been one of those clean up jobs where you just shove things out of sight...) And after Alison wore a falling apart old one, the next day I remembered that she'd actually left hers at her friend's place the weekend before. So whose fault is it? Hmmmm.

This morning, with cooler weather, she couldn't find her school jacket. 'Do you know where it is Mum?'. Nup. And not interested in looking for it either. She found it eventually (after missing the bus). "Someone stuffed it up the back of the cupboard." Indeed? Someone? Mr Nobody I suppose.

** And to finish up - for now - there is one question I get asked that is guaranteed to make me really really cranky. "What's for dinner?" My usual response is to snarl back "What you're given." I mean, why ask? Is it going to affect whether you grace us with your presence at the dinner table? Are you going to go out instead if it doesn't meet with your approval? Unless you are asking because you want to HELP prepare it, then JUST DON'T ASK!!

So is anyone else a Grumpy Old Woman, even despite your age? Like the women in the series, I am tempted to just accept it, and even revel in it. (So stay tuned for more grumping!) I'm working on the theory that it helps to get things off your chest, no matter how trivial!!

So I'm now off to do the supermarket shop. I have just realised it's a Thursday which is likely to be pension day (every fortnight I think) - so it will be more crowded than usual with pensioners of all ages getting in my road, so given my existing grumpiness, I will probably get even grumpier. Alas, I need to stock up on a few things, so today it is.

And, so help me, if anyone asks me tonight what's for dinner, they'd better watch out!

Labels: grrrrr, grumpy

Suddenly last night my wrist - my mouse wrist - got sore. Think it could be some sort of over-use problem? Hmmm. Me too.

I got Marc to strap it for me for the rest of the evening... - you know, so I could finish loading the dishwasher and all that stuff - and then after 8 hours of not using it -(only because of it happening to be sleeptime, otherwise I would have just kept coming back to the computer and using it)! - it was .. ok.. this morning. OK enough to do my weights class anyway (Last night I was a just a bit concerned it might affect my ability to push up, or pull down.. and let me tell you, my arms don't need any more challenges with this weight lifting malarky, being one of the weakest parts of me. Second only to my jelly belly abs)

However, an hour on the 'puter since I got home (my goodness, where does the time go?!) and I am feeling it again. Perhaps it is a message to shift my butt and go and do at least one of the domestic chores I keep bitching about and putting off.

It bothers me as I harbour grandiose ideas of getting paid work to do from home - with my average computer and web skills - but if I'm going to get periodic bouts of RSI type stuff in my mousey wrist, then it's not a good sign. Is it?

Labels: daily, grrrrr

... chose to go back to bed and read this morning, rather than go and have a hit of tennis.

... finished her book, had breakfast at about 11.00, and has sat here ever since, apart from rising once or twice for coffee and to hang a load of washing out.

... wonders why she makes things so hard for herself - fitness and exercise-wise and socially!

... has two out of her three daughters being similarly slothful. (The other one has been up, out, fed and walked a friend's dog, and is about to go to a friend's place for a sleepover. I have issues with sleepovers (which I'll save for another self-flagellating "I'm a terrible parent" post).. but I suppose at least she is doing something.


Excuses, Excuses:

Well, I did get up and iron his shirt! Oh slack housewife I am that his shirts are not all neatly pressed and hung. In a wardrobe. (Hah.. what wardrobe?)

And, well, it is a while since I buried myself in a book. When I do, the family will tell you that I am usually lost to them for the duration. It's all or nothing with me with reading. I've just finished the last book in the Troy Game - by Sara Douglass. I've been a bit ambivalent about this series. Along with others who had been involved as moderators on Sara's bulletin board, I received the first two as gifts from her. I wanted so much to adore them, but I got a bit restless with the whole premise, and the details. (But then, I am a bit like that with all fantasy - despite which I get sucked in.) So, with Druid's Sword, I started reading it because I found it in the library, and just for the sake of reading. Despite myself I got hooked, and I've had my nose in it a bit over the past few slacko days. And this morning I read till I finished it.

I guess it's called escapism. (I do think that the better way to read fantasy epics is to start when all the books are already published, because otherwise there is such a time gap between books, you forget all the details!)

So.

Family! Self! We apologise for this break in transmission. Normal programming should resume shortly.

Well, maybe.

Why did I opt out of playing tennis? Tennis is 'my' sport, and after being invited to play Ladies Midweek last year with some other mums I'd got to know (through my kids' netball - see there is a reason for organised sport - it's a way for the parents to meet other people!), I've signed up again, and the first game in the comp starts Thursday week. But I haven't had a racquet in my hand since the last game of the last comp!

But the anti-social idiot sloth in me didn't feel like going to play with 'all the oldies' at the Friday morning social tennis up at the local tennis courts. I don't really know why, I just didn't want to go. Just didn't want to mingle and make small talk, and I don't know why.

My legs are crying out for me to get them moving. Other than a barely 10 min each way walk between the Toyota Dealership and the Plaza yesterday, I did nothing energy-wise. (Although standing outside fitting rooms while children try on clothes saps your energy in a more debilitating way!)

I am about to take another car to another mechanic's for a rego check, and now that I've wasted so much time here, ideas of taking my bike and riding it while I wait have fizzled. Instead of sitting while I wait I will go and walk. Somewhere! For 20 minutes!

I just rang and got an appointment for a leg wax at 3.15. Somehow when I get that done it seems to strip away some of the sloth within - don't ask me why that is either. It is one of the few typical 'woman' type things I choose to do.

And then I shall return and ride around the block with Zoe, who needs to spend time riding her own bike, because she's just so cautious and timid about it.

And try to get back into the mindset of the woman who was thriving on the fitness, and the mood-altering high that exercise can induce. And on the centimetres she had lost but are insidiously trying to creep back on again!! Why is it that weight seems to stack itself on about 10 times quicker than it takes to lose the same amount?

Perhaps this slightly extreme trough I am in is a reaction to the intensity of the
Big Ride. (I still haven't gotten over all those 5 am starts!) And all that other emotional stuff which keeps jumping up and grabbing me when I am not expecting it.

Perhaps.

Labels: daily, grrrrr, Trivial and lovin' it

.. probably...

"What are you doing?" he asks, as I take the calendar off the wall, flick back to March, and start counting weeks.

"One, two.. hmmm... exactly three weeks...since..... hmmm... yes... I suppose I'm in PMT (PMS.. whatever... hormonal) territory... Well, I hope so, because otherwise why do I just feel like crying?"

I waited till they all left for work and school.. had a teensy little cry.. then had a good laugh at these two blog posts:

Woulda Coulda Shoulda - Mir has such an ability to write -with such wit - it just shouldn't be allowed! Pointy and difficult?!!! OMG... (I am kind of relieved to have only girls!)

and

Amalah (I don't even like cats much, but the icanhascheeseburger thing somehow amuses me this morning.)

And then I've had a long phone call with a friend, debriefing from the netball committee meeting last night. I did come home a bit cranky because it went till 9.30... and I hadn't had dinner yet... and I was still reeling from the attitude of one junior coach/parent, V., who I had previously had a bit of time for.

She astounded me by criticising my daughter's coach for allowing her team to "flog" hers on Saturday and not taking off her "best" player in the last quarter. OK, the score ended up 23-7.. but Ali's team had also lost by similar margins the first two weeks when Ali wasn't there - in one of those weeks this tall shooter had come off sick - noone else could shoot, and the game went from a close one to a 27-6 loss - so as if Ali's coach was going to jeopardise anything! (And this was only the second game this 'losing' team has played because their other week was a bye!)

She has a point that her team could get disheartened - she is worried that she has the most short players in the competition and she is right to address it early in the season, but she shouldn't be bagging out the other coach ! I was shellshocked because when I started to naively respond with the above 'defence' of my daughter's coach, she was very aggressive towards me.. aggression dressed up to look like assertiveness - the 'let me finish' and 'I'm sorry, Tracey, but I was there and...' and the like. You know the sort of thing.

So, blah.. I was probably stewing on that. Now that I've been able to say to this 'mutual' friend that I was 'really pissed off'.. and that I thought V. was out of order, I feel much better.

Bloody netball... I always heard it could be a bitchy sport.. and some days I don't know what the hell I am doing being involved in the committee! I've never even played the damn game, and it is consuming my life! I have paperwork, and website stuff to do for it today, and I am starting to resent it.

Before the meeting yesterday I was already teetering on the melancholy. I was feeling like this emotional rollercoaster ride I've been on the past few weeks was gathering momentum and careering down again - maybe into one of those spirally vortex thingies (crap analogy here, but you get my drift...) I made an enquiry about counselling yesterday but he was too busy at work to talk about it, and then there was the meeting palava to recover from last night. We talked more when we went to bed, and I told him that I started getting anxious when the 'good' communication we'd rediscovered went back to 'average'. .. what with him being stressed out at work again...(and me being stressed out with netball!) I am scared of either of us taking each other for granted again - and I told him that I think that every day now I am going to need something... a sign.. from him.. that lets me know that 'we' are good. When you think about it that is probably not a bad idea for every relationship. (Or is that what happens in every successful relationship, and is that where things derailed a bit for us? )

My friend suggested I get out and get me some exercise endorphins, which is not a bad idea. Bike? Or walk? Either way, off my bum and out of here!

~~
Added a bit later... just heard news that the wife of a former colleague of Marc's died last week. Similar age to us - kids 14, 12 and 10. Collapsed while on a harbour cruise (after ringing her husband who was at work to rub it in...).. brain aneurism I think. Life support turned off after some time, not sure of details. So sad. Timely reminder to enjoy your family every day and not take each other for granted, isn't it...

Labels: grrrrr, introspection