Hospital Dash

Horrible week last week. Jambeans woke up with breathing difficulties, vomiting and fever in the wee small hours of Tuesday night. After a couple of hours dithering we decided to do the hospital dash. I did the hospital with J. Daddy stayed to look after Felix and try and get enough sleep to last for both of us. Waited for triage with the usual round of drunks and weirdos. Two of them were crashed out on the floor, and I tried to shield the rest from Jambeans' view. Triage came pretty quickly. I saw the nurse tick the "high priority" box - the equivalent of Defcon 2 - and even though I'm sure that's pretty standard practice for a minor with respiratory distress, it was bloody scary nevertheless. As was the on-call registrar's need to "rule out pneumonia." I'm just a lay-person. These words scare me.

So they attached her to the SATs machine via a crocodile-clip type thingy you have to keep on your finger. Then put her on oxygen, followed by 3 bursts of Salbutamol, all via a mask which Jasmine hated and kept pulling off. They also put some weird cream on the backs of her hands and sellotaped it down. It numbs her hands slowly, or something like that, so they can take bloods later. They also gave Calpol, and took her temperature regularly. Mainly just at the point one of us was about to nod off. Then we went for a chest X-ray. And just when things were beginning to settle down they asked me to administer some steroids which tasted revolting and she tried her damndest to spit out.

It got to 5am. Jasmine and I had been awake since midnight and I had only clocked about 2 hours kip. It was beginning to hurt. We had a quiet stretch just then, after the X-ray - perfect for a few zzzzs. That's when I discovered that Salbutamol makes you crazy. As in bounce-off-the-wall-crazy. Jasmine ran round the room jumping, whooping, playing with the hot water tap and pressing every button on every bit of machinery she could find.

After that Jasmine was on a dose of Salbutamol every 2 hours. It was horrendous. Jasmine was poorly and needed her mummy. She was also manic, and in a public place, so I couldn't take my eyes off her for a second. We got to the children's ward around 7am and I basically had to push on through with her till we got home in the evening.

We got home and my brave, beautiful, darling little girl was on the mend and was being brilliant in the face of adversity. Her Mummy was a quivering, moaning wreck and had aged about 50 years in that short space of time. I'm still recovering.

How to make the perfect party princess

take one tiara

add a frock, a dinosaur cake, some decorations, a handful of kids and a giant red ball

bake on a high heat

don't forget the ridiculous mechanical dog for added comedy effect

and totally chill out after

(ok, so the snaps are a bit crap but it was a great day and the video is amazing)

Jasmine is 3

Our darling little girl is 3 tomorrow. Today was her party complete with frock, cake, candles, party bags, grandma, nani, auntie seema and some of mum and dad's friends and their respective broods. Ok. So it was really a bit of a do for us. But who cares? A great time was had by all. Only downside was that Jasmine's chestiness has returned, as have our suspicions of asthma, so she's been put straight back on the montelukast today after months of going without. We'll just have to see how it all pans out...

Piccies to follow.

Girl about town

Today I had 3 interviews - totally exhausting. I have an adrenalin headache.

I think I presented myself to the best of my abilities in all so hopefully I've avoided that awful sweaty feeling where you're doing something completely normal then flashback to something totally gauche/ stupid/ inappropriate you said.

I got a verbal offer from one interview - it was a follow up, to do some freelance work and then see how it went. But I didn't realise how much travel would be required. So much that it's simply not an option. I'm hoping to bag some freelance work off interview number 2 too - tough interview but at a great place. But interview number 3 was for a company I'd love to work for, and I had a good vibe off the person who interviewed me - also the person I'd report to, but the position available is sketchy right now. So sketchy it doesn't even exist, so that one is a definite slow burn, and in the time it takes to burn slowly everything could change.

But, who knows, I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

BNTM eat your heart out

Jambeans is rocking the catwalk

I heart Kew Gardens

So, despite the fact my interior landscape is feeling more than a little flat there are still many many things to keep me going. None better than the city in Springtime, and the healing magic that is Kew Gardens.

Aaahhhh

Felix is really into kissing, which he does (as Jambeans also did) with mouth wide open and normally when he's got a torrent of snot dripping down his nose too. Anybody else = yeuch but with the Squealycops I give him a big smacker back every time. Just another babymomma sacrifice I guess...

Our darling baby girl looks so grown up...

They really have most excellent trees

Teef

There's a whole loada stuff going on in my head these days - mainly work stuff as interviews and "chats" (networking) are picking up. It's all good getting out there, but the lesson I learned from my last job is that "it" has really got to feel right, whatever "it" is. But all "it" is making me feel right now is totally hudgy budgy with a lot of antsy thrown in too.

And amidst it all, in my inside world, I'm having an enormous crisis of confidence about myself and feeling quite crap. I keep thinking of my peers and remarking how little I achieved compared to all of them. And I find it quite hard to bear, because when I was younger I thought I was quite clever, quite cleverer in fact than a lot of other people I knew, and good at stuff. But life has been a continual realisation that being clever and good at stuff just isn't the be all and end all of success. There's a lot more to do with the kind of person you really are. And the kind of person I am right now is, erm: boring, fat, boring. And also empty. As in I am an empty vessel. I just don't know who I am any more.

This is babymomma syndrome I'm sure. As in, I'm not actually doing anything for me right now. Not swimming - too busy finding a job, not reading - too tired to keep eyes open, not dieting - too lazy and demotivated, not "enter activity here" - too "enter lame ass excuse here" etcetera, etcetera. My days are busy, but I have no sense of purpose. What am I trying to achieve? Raise my kids well. How long does that take then? About, forever. What's in it for me? Erm, not much really. Oh. OK. That makes it sooo much easier. I would literally rather tread water every day...
Fellow Whittington babymomma Seema came over yesterday. I was saving her from her mother-in-law who has been staying here since February (ugh. can you imagine?) and she was saving me from cabin fever. Anyway, I was trying to explain to her how I felt and was being incredibly inarticulate. And she just opened her mouth and said "I know how you feel. When I was younger I never imagined this would be my life either." And without saying anything specific, the look in her eye, the tone of her voice, it really summed it all up.

We shared a moment.

Anyway, I this blogpost is called Teef, because it's not about me (not supposed to be anyway). It's about Felix. He has been screaming for 2 days non stop because he is teething - premolars - and is inconsolable.

Totally meltsome

Tonight I was putting Felix to bed, milk-sozzled, lights off, warm and cuddly, and he lifted his head, turned it to me and planted a small, soggy kiss on my mouth.

Musings #3

Mama Musings about Motherhood

3. On those occasions when you really need to bundle the kids into the buggy, get outside and walk around the block or risk losing your sanity it will always take longer to get the kids ready and bundle them into the buggy than it will to walk around the block.

But it's still totally worth it.

Disaster strikes

Bf's been called for jury service. It's due to start 4 days before we go on holiday. Our first holiday abroad with the kids. To a wedding. Where bf is best man.

We're not overly worried - he's applied for deferral. But that means next year he'll have to attend and there's no get out of jail free card.

Bugger.

Operation Combat Wobble also goes a bit wibbly

aka - I've fallen off my diet. I didn't even last a week. I'll start again tomorrow... honest.