Birthdays Etc

Just totally exhausted. A weekend of birthday celebrations have taken their toll - including yesterday taking 6 very over-excited children to the cinema and for pizza.

And now I have to iron lots and lots of shirts and a plethora of school uniform. I'm watching the X-Factor results but they're not helping. Am kind of fed up with the X-factor although have just seen Kylie who I do quite like in her pop-disco kind of way.

Another week of packed lunches and school runs loom. But I'm off to London on my own next weekend to see a friend so that'll keep me going.

Must head to the gym this week as well - have managed to enjoy quite a few birthday treats myself over the weekend!

What's Going On?

So, what's going on with me at the moment?

I want another baby although I spend most of my time being absolutely overwhelmed with the children I have. Not being able to have any more children - after the hideous chemotherapy thing - doesn't help. It's not good to think that your body doesn't work like it should do/used to do just 2 years ago.

I want to go back to work for a couple of days a week because I'm feeling overwhelmed and at times isolated and frustrated by all the endless repetitive duties at home. I'd love some chat and a good giggle with new colleagues. I'm good at getting on with people and am quite sociable. It'd be satisfying to have an existence separate to my family which takes place out of these four walls. Oh, and we badly need the money. But.....

I don't want to go back to work. Hattie's only just 2 and I missed out of loads of good time with her in her first year. Teaching English in a secondary school is pretty exhausting and demanding - especially teaching those younger kids. Bring on the A Level is all I hope and pray! And there's work to do in the evening. Back to the issue of feeling exhausted and overwhelmed with looking after 3 kids, two kittens and a house. Returning to work has to add to that pressure - what with Ed's haemophilia (yes, that's still going on... he has a bleed in his ankle at the moment, the school rang me today and I fetched him and injected him) and Hattie being bound to experience the whole gamut of childhood illnesses the moment she's ensconced in nursery.

I want to go to bed really early every night to indulge my old passion.... reading that is. But I want to stay up late enjoying the peace once the kids are in bed, watching rubbish tv and writing my blog.

I want a dog because I'm feeling broody and the kids would love it. I don't want a dog because I'd have to look after it and I'm tired of looking after things and people.

I want a campervan for totally fun family holidays. I want to ride a motorbike or a horse across Mongolia ON MY OWN.

I could go on but I imagine that you catch my drift.

This May I'm........

gardening!

For the past two years our garden has been a source of embarrassment -even if I have had a pretty good reason for the neglect, what with my survival kind of taking centre stage, and my exhaustion meaning that the sofa was more appealing if I had any child-free time.

But this May, I'm feeling well. Not tired - hence my gym visits, and feeling much more confident that I might just get to next May with a bit of luck. Gardening seems a positive investment in my time and energy. Martha and I are spending time together digging, weeding and watering and things are looking better on the green front. Admittedly Hattie is not entirely an asset when tidying up the garden - pushing her toys into my brand new lupin indeed! And the kittens are keen on helping with the digging in their own particular way. However it is a very good thing to be alive and well and in the garden at all.

We're planning a rasberry and pear crumble made with fruit grown from our own garden. We won't be able to make the crumble until next August - but that's ok, we can wait.

This Week

Yesterday I was 41.

This morning I went to the gym in an attempt to ward off the advancing years.

Now I'm very very tired and want to eat biscuits while reading 'Wolf Hall' by Hilary Mantel which is amazingly, wonderfully brilliant by the way.

Or, snuggle down like the baby every afternoon and SLEEP!

I'm Not Seventeen

I really can't believe that I am 40. Nearly 41 actually.

I had one of those moments today sitting in the car waiting for school to finish. Do you know what I mean? When you feel as if you have just been jolted from a dream into reality and you are shocked by what that reality is! I think it was the song which was playing on the radio - I was transported back to being 17, and when Hattie suddenly made a noise in the seat behind me and I came to, I just could not believe that all those years had passed. I could not believe it. I felt like examining the stranger's face in the mirror.

And then I went to get the kids and took them swimming.

But the strangeness has stayed with me. I'm sure there's a lesson there - to appreciate what I have right now. I've had quite a lot of those lessons recently. Otherwise I can see that I'll be 80 (I bloody hope!) and not be able to believe that I'm not 40. But human nature being what it is - or maybe it's just my nature - it seems a tough lesson to learn.

It was such fun being seventeen though.

To Meditate or not to Meditate

I'm not getting on with the whole meditation thing. I'm missing the point, I know I am - but when the baby only has one sleep a day, and when in that time before getting the kids from school I have to get all the house stuff done (damn, just realised I haven't put the washing on), write something, and rest if possible as I'm still so tired; I find it difficult to spend 45 mins sitting on a chair focusing on my breath.

I'm halfway through doing my course which runs on a Tuesday evening. It cost money - which I don't want to waste, but I'm not sure I'm at the right time in my life to do this. At the moment it just feels like one more thing which is hassling me and which I have to do. Not really the idea. But I kind of feel like it's going to be hard to extricate myself from the group. Aaargh! This is typical of my life at the moment - in a bid to get well, cope with stress, lose weight, get fit etc etc I'm putting pressure on myself which doesn't really help me to relax or feel in control.

I haven't been doing the daily practices - and obviously until I do, I'm not going to get the benefit of them if there is a benefit to be had. But my days pass in a blur and I'm not sure that I'm able to commit to doing them. Bloody hell.

Oh - and the blood results need repeating, but they certainly indicate a low white cell count which obviously still means that I'm going to be prone to more infections for the time being. But, I went to our local fitness centre this morning with Hattie and checked out the creche - a step closer to those boxercise classes!

Half Term

So - Roger has gone to St Petersburg and left me with the kids for half term. This has been very helpful and I have found my exhaustion levels reaching new and dizzy heights.

But, we've de-bunked to my mother's house. Actually, my mum owns and runs a lovely and quite well-known pub on the Northumberland coast. Literally on the beach. She lives above the pub and the kids spend delirious and happy times here drinking hot chocolate and walking on the beach, playing in the dunes and riding ponies. So it's not all bad.

The sea is fabulous - stormy and grey: sitting in her kitchen drinking coffee you can watch the waves rolling and crashing just a stone's throw away. It's cold here but it's lovely to get away from the city and lovely to see the kids falling exhausted into bed after so much exercise and fresh air.

It won't stop Ed getting up at 6am though. I'm resigned to his early rising until the teenage years hit - he doesn't seem to be growing out of it like all his friends and his younger sisters. The most I can do is threaten him on pain of some terrible punishment not to wake anyone else in the house. But he's too unaware of how noisy is his every move to manage even that. Hmmm.

Rog's back on Thursday - I'm handing the kids to him quick-smart mind you the moment he's home, while I lie in a darkened room. I've had some blood results back which might indicate at the reason for some of my tiredness - more details after I've spoken to the doctor. Hopefully it's nothing to worry about. Hopefully.

Damn - again!!

I have tonsilitis - woke today feeling just terrible.

Went to the doctor (after refereeing usual morning chaos and doing the school run in the pouring rain - no let up for illness of course. Rog went to work as usual at the crack of dawn). The doctor says it's a horrible dose and I have to take 8(!!) penicillin tablets a day.

Rog did come back from work early though and I'm 'resting' on the sofa while he puts the kids to bed. They do keep bursting in but it's a real novelty to be sneakily on the computer, watching 'Neighbours' and 'Home and Away' at 6pm.

If I could only swallow and turn my fat neck more than ever so slightly things would be perfect. What an attractive image I paint hey??

By the way, am trying to write seriously, meditate and exercise but keep being thwarted. Damn!!!!

Food

I love food.

Today, I have another bug despite trying to eat healthily and drink my smoothies everyday. My neck has swollen up to body-builder proportions (yes, really -very attractive!) and I'm finding it hard to talk and swallow. And I cannot get an appointment with the doctor until tomorrow.

Despite this, and despite the fact that I've looked after the 3 kids all day with multiple school runs, tea-making and putting to bed single-handedly as Rog is working late, my mind is running on food. Specifically food that I would love to eat in my invalid (ha, ha) state but not have to cook.........

Fish pie - the luxurious version with smoked fish and prawns, spaghetti with garlic, white wine and chilli, bolognese with mushrooms and red wine, homemade tomato soup with cream and croutons. Not to mention strawberry fool, chocolate mousse, and rum and raisin ice-cream.

But, delirious dreaming aside - I'm going to have to pull myself off the sofa to see what I can quickly put together instead. I've sort of collapsed for the evening so I fear it may be toast and marmite. Not quite what the doctor ordered.

February Snow

Now the house is quiet and it's snowing, large heavy flakes which aren't yet settling but which are pouring out of the sky with such a momentum that looking upwards for more than a few seconds makes me feel dizzy.

I'm not rushing today - after yesterday I woke today tired and stiff and achy. Too much stress. I have a busy afternoon ahead and an evening learning to be calm at my meditation class - which in itself feels like just one more thing to do before I can sleep again. So now I'm watching the snow, drinking coffee, reading and (quickly) writing a post. I've decided that too much time at the computer isn't so good for me. I need to revisit my old peaceful pastimes which I loved before I stepped a little too far into the technological age.

It's a good morning so far - even the school run went reasonably smoothly! And I treated Ed on the first attempt last night. Hattie is asleep - I'm hoping for at least another hour. Fingers crossed.

Monday

AAAArgh - Monday morning. Shouted at the kids, shouted some more, drove them to school in total rage. Calmed down somewhat after they'd disappeared into the building. Took baby to supermarket - not really a baby now, really a toddler - very very heavy to stuff/squash into trolley seat. Did shopping, drove home. Lugged bags of very heavy shopping up steep very slippery back steps, then did same with baby. Put shopping away, put baby away (for sleep!!), made smoothie and pot of very strong coffee. Made phone-calls and filled out speeding ticket fine - yup, I do really need to slow down and then sat down to my blog. All before midday. I'm too tired - wish I'd had kids in my twenties, or at least when I had some hormones to help.

As you can see - meditation not doing a great deal at the moment.

Meditation in Newcastle, Chill-out in Rajasthan

Ahem! Just clearing my throat really. I'm still here though.

I'm feeling so overwhelmed at the moment that I'm struggling to find time for the blog.

I've started meditiation classes on a Tuesday night - which seem amazing and interesting, but everytime I close my eyes and start to try to 'follow the inspiration' I fall asleep. It was the first session on Tuesday. I was sitting on a hard chair, in a cold, draughty room, in a strange and unsettling part of town, with a group of people I'd only met that evening. And I fell asleep. Honestly, I despair. I'm not sure you can sleep 'mindfully', which is what I suggested to the teacher when I woke up. I was bloody dreaming for god's sake! She was non-comittal.

I'm prescribing myself some early nights and stress-free days - ha ha. Otherwise I may as well just go to bed on Tuesday so I can sleep in more comfortable surroundings.

Stuff with the kids just seems to take over. I can't find time to read, write, exercise or sleep properly.

Thanks, by the way, for everyone's lovely and supportive comments to the last couple of posts. If I was American I might say, Gee, you guys!!!! But being truly British I can only express my thanks much more formally.

I know this post doesn't really have a 'thread' exactly, unlike my other seamless offerings (threads, seamless....?...), but it's an achievement to get to the computer.

Oh... and I might be taking a trip to India with my mother at Easter. Now that's more like it! No kids - Rog says he'll have them. For 10 days??? I'm not sure I can leave them, or should leave them... but it's an 'Easter Chill-out'!!!! In Rajasthan!!! Tempting - oh so tempting. A once in a lifetime thing to celebrate being well and looking to the future. But kind of selfish. And more than kind of unselfish to look after three children on your own when you don't have to. Aargh. What do you think?

What Now?

I'm feeling motivation to sort out my life. Does it need sorting? Well - I need to think about which direction my life is travelling in I suppose. I need to decide when to return to work, whether I want to leave Hattie at all and start that dodge and dance which all working mothers experience, and which I remember so well.

We need the cash - that's the trouble.

But honestly would my two or three day per week salary be worth the dropping kids off at the crack of dawn at breakfast clubs and nursery? Is it worth not being able to pick them up from school every day of the week? Would it be worth the awful calls in to work to tell them I can't come because Ed has a bleed, Martha's been sick or Hattie has chicken-pox? Can I cope with having anything extra to do in the evenings beyond what I do already? Because along with secondary school English teaching comes a hell of a lot of marking, planning and other miscellaneous stuff which would have to be done after the kids are in bed.

Where would my writing come in - a commitment which I find hard to keep at the best of times?

But, I need a career. I'm kind of between things at the moment. Really, I'd like to re-train. I think teaching and me have come to a parting of the ways, so if I did go back to work soon - back to teaching - I think it would only be a temporary solution. In the longer term - and it's so scary for me to even think like this after the past 18 months - I need to find something rewarding to do which can ultimately pay the mortgage when I go back to working full-time when the kids are older. Rog's 10 years older than me and although he's not over the hill, neither of us are spring chickens and we have a hefty mortgage which won't be paid off for another 25 years. If I re-train soon, I'll have a good 10 years to build up a career before he retires. Hmmm.

Have you noticed that I'm talking about the future? The long-term future. Somehow, I'm daring to begin to let out that breath I've been holding for the longest time. I'm only a year in remission and I've a long long way to go before I can say I'm clear of all this horror. But I'm feeling an optimism I haven't been able to even look sideways at since all this started.

And I'm thinking of trying a boxercise class. I'm a bit lacking in the old muscle-power so the experience might be somewhat humiliating!

My New Bag

Oh, oh! I went shopping this morning to buy a friend's little boy a present and somehow I bought myself the most beautiful Orla Kiely bag! It was reduced in a sale - but still it was more money than I have EVER spent on a bag. I don't do bags either, in fact to pay for my beautiful bag I took my purse out of my old, old bag that I've had for years. I have a couple of other old bags with which I ring the changes - but that's it.

Something must have gone to my head.

I justified it to myself as a present to cheer myself up before my scan tomorrow. I think that taking it into the hospital and subsequently taking it everywhere is just what I need. But I do feel guilty enough to leave it in its plastic cover from the shop until Rog gets back from work and agrees that I can keep it.

Wouldn't he be just a bit churlish to make me take it back? You're on my side for this aren't you?

Strangely, just as I was dithering over purchasing said bag, an old lady walked past and said out of the blue and unsolicited,
"If you can afford it and you love it, you should have it. You don't know what might be around the corner."
I took this as enough of a hint from the karma crew to scuttle off to the till clutching my bag.

I bought some clothes too - but that's another story.

Have found a way to ease those school-run, pre-scan blues. Spend some money.

This Morning

6.00am - Ed woke Martha and they started to talk VERY loudly in their room. But after major threats last night before bed following weeks of early rising, they stayed in their room and didn't thunder upstairs to see us every few minutes in tears after arguing - miraculous!

6.30am - Our alarm went off. The Today Programme filtering into the freezing bedroom (our heating timer has not yet been fitted on the new boiler). Hattie started chatting to herself in her room. Rog, needing to get to work early, hauled himself out of bed and went to put the heating on and make the kids' porridge while I had a reluctant shower. I'm sleeping so badly at the moment that I feel tired even in the shower.

8.00am - Rog long gone, kids dressed for school and Ed ready for his Monday morning IV treatment of Factor 8. Secretly, I've been feeling pretty stressed about this since yesterday evening. But, I manage despite not hitting the vein the first time.

8.30am - kids and I out the door to catch the bus to school as our backyard and lane still has too much snow to easily use the car. Bus takes ages, long walk down the slippery, slushy hill to school. Ed falls once (thank god I managed the treatment) and Martha twice. I manage to stay on my feet thanks to my lovely Hunter wellies. Can you guess how pleased I am with my wellies?

9.30am - Back home. Hattie very lively - damn, need her to sleep so I can do all the house stuff needed. Manage to put on the washing at least. Make my smoothie - need an energy boost.

10.30am - Sign up for the 2010 5KM Run for Life. Surely I can manage that by the summer? Decide that I'm going to get a pedometer and start walking seriously. I'm going to try to cut down on my carb eating in the evening too, to try to lose some pounds. Hmmm. I'm so exhausted by the evening that I can't imagine managing without my baked potato or rice - but we'll see.

10.45am - Hear on Woman's Hour a speaker from Macmillan Cancer Support, and a cancer survivor talking about the long-term effects of chemotherapy and radiotherapy, and realise that I have been suffering from some of these for the past year since I went into remission. The exhaustion, for one, has definitely been a factor to contend with, over and above that which comes with having three small kids. The radio programme was discussing the fact that when you finish your cancer treatment, you are really cast adrift back into your life with very little guidance or warning about how you might feel in the coming year or two. Consequently, I have been really pushing myself to get fit, lose weight and generally resume normal things long before my body is ready for that. Particularly after the very aggressive treatment I received. Of course going back to all the old stuff is what I want - but the frustration I've felt that I haven't been able to manage all the goals I've set myself has added to my stress and not helped my peace of mind. I only finished my radiotherapy this time last year - I now begin to see that I've been asking too much of myself for much of that time. The scan coming up on Thursday is obviously focusing my mind and my thoughts on all of this. If the results are ok (pray god they are) I think I need to treat myself more gently and try not to vilify myself because I'm not looking or feeling my best yet. That will come with time and care.

White-Out

I have blogging block! I think it's because of the snow - Roger and the kids are still at home: no-one can travel anywhere at the moment. It's like an extended Christmas holiday without the presents. They're all driving me mad. I didn't realise how much I'd secretly been waiting for everyone to get back to where they normally are on a Wednesday, so that I can organise my life the way I want it.

We're all milling about the house - ok, the kids can play in the garden and have snowball fights, which is quite fun - and ok I always complain that I don't see enough of Rog in the term-time, but...... in fact but what?? It's not the end of the world. It's just that strange sense of hovering in limbo, not doing all the usual stuff which takes some getting used to.

Crazy crazy snow. I can't remember snow like this since I was a child. The folded icing-sugar frozen waves hang, suspended in the crisp air, over the edges of roofs. Every now and again there's a strange cracking roar and snow avalanches off a roof finally sufficiently warmed by central heating inside. I find the noise scary and unsettling - suddenly I can begin to imagine why you'd want to avoid an avalanche on a mountain-side.

The forecast is for snow into next week. I'm already getting worried that I won't be able to get to my scan appointment next Thursday, but I think I'm being a bit dramatic as we do live in the middle - well sort of on the edge, actually - of the city. I'm sure I'll get there.

I need to break out of the snow-induced torpor. Eating a fabulous, luxury beautifully cooked fish-pie (although I do say so myself) hasn't helped on the torpor front. Excuse me anyhow, I have to go and put another log on the fire and make a cup of tea.

Snow

It's too snowy now - the novelty is wearing off. It's one thing when we can all mess around at home, making snowmen, walking to the park and playing with the woodburner but quite another when everyone has to go to work and school.

It's freezing - well below freezing - and the old cliche regarding the British inability to cope with wintry weather, is proving to be true. Our car is rubbish in the snow, is not 4-wheel drive, and slips if it even smells ice. And the kids' school is on a very steep hill. And I need to go into town tomorrow. GRRRR.

On a different note, my scan appointment came through. Next Thursday. And the results as soon as possible after that. Every time I think about it I feel weak with horror.

Quite a while ago I wrote a post about my son Ed's haemophilia and how I'm learning to give him his IV treatment at home. Last week was the first time I treated him completely on my own and it was a success. Today I was unable to bloody well find a vein and after poking around in the poor child's arm I had to give up. It's so frustrating - and he's so amazingly good. I'm going to have one more try tomorrow morning and then ring the haemophilia centre if I can't manage. It's so important to me to be able to do this smoothly and well. But, sometimes the nurses who've been doing it forever aren't able to do it either, so I'll have to be patient with myself.

Christmas seems a long way off already!

Post-Christmas Blues

It's the day after Boxing Day and I'm feeling a bit Christmassed out. The kids had a lovely time, which is after all the most important thing after all that rushing around, and I spent my days and nights coughing. I think I've averaged four hours' sleep a night for the past couple of weeks.

The sinus thing decided not to let up and as a result I'm feeling a bit fed up on that front. To say the least. What I wanted for Christmas is six months of good health without being constantly reminded through coughs, colds, shingles, sinusitis, tonsilitis and flu of what has happened to me in the past couple of years. I was at the docs on Christmas Eve and she said that the only comfort she could offer was that the rubbishness (is that a word??) of my immune system shows that the chemotherapy and radiotherapy had been as effective as possible - so effective that it wiped all good things out too and I'm constantly ill. Maybe I'll get that Christmas present just a bit late and be fighting fit through January. I hope it'll be a happy new year in that respect.

We're still at my mum's but heading home later - lots or re-packing here and then unpacking at home. And then another Christmas family gathering on Tuesday to catch up with my brother, sister-in-law and nephews who have spent Christmas with the other side of their family. And then New Year's Eve.

But, I did get some lovely presents and ate some lovely food (too much I fear). And our lovely woodburner waits for us at home. And some (relative) peace and quiet.

Curry

Have you ever made a very hot curry with very, very hot chillies and then put your fingers in your eyes?

I was trying to blast away my sinusitis which makes me feel as if someone is squeezing my neck until my eyes feel as if they might pop out. But all I've achieved is that now my eyes are burning as well.

Apart from that I'm fine.

Really. And I couldn't taste the bloody curry anyway. Apparently it was hot, garlicky and gingery. I wouldn't know.

Teaching Again

Yesterday, I did some tuition for my neighbour's daughter who is studying A-Level English. In my previous, pre-illness incarnation, I was an English teacher. I was working in a high school, heavily pregnant with the baby, the others two kids at nursery when I was diagnosed.

Although we're skint, I haven't really been in a rush to go back to work. I want to spend time with Hattie as I missed out on so much at the beginning. And really, I'm pretty sure that although I've taught on and off for the last seventeen years I don't want to resurrect my teaching career. I'm considering re-training in social work when Hattie is three.

But, last night I really, really enjoyed talking about Philip Larkin. It was good to feel useful and productive in a wider context rather than just on the domestic front, and good to use my brain in a different way again. It reminded me that teaching literature to A-Level students was always the best part of the job for me - mostly because it makes me read and re-read all the greatest stuff, and because it's the best fun discussing it and encouraging students to love it too. After all, since childhood reading has always been my fiercest passion.

Maybe there's life in this old teacher yet!