Disco Knitter

Today, Inigo saw The Princess Bride (well, most of it, before he fell asleep) for the first time. And yesterday, we bought him an orange ukelele.

Surely this will be a better year.

Dad just rang. Some assholes broke into mum and dad’s house last night and stole some Christmas presents from under the tree, and the keys to both their cars.

The Subaru was left in a nearby side street with one wheel missing, and the Mazda 121 was driven through a peterol station to fill up, then driven out without paying.

Then the fuckers set fire to it. RIP Edmund.

I saw the counsellor from Sids & Kids yesterday. Apparently, an important part of this whole “grief” thing, is actually crying. Who’d a thunk it.

I’ve been working hard at keeping it all together, and worrying more about how other people feel (and protecting them from the horror of my grief), so the tears get quashed, I put on a brave face, and get on with life.

So, my new years resolution (which I don’t believe in, and I am nonetheless doing, and doing early this year), is to fall apart a little bit. If I feel sad, I will cry, and I will try not to worry about protecting other people (except Inigo of course). I spent years training myself not to cry, to protect myself from bullies, so allowing myself to cry is a steep learning curve.

We’re going up to Pearl Beach after Christmas until after New Years, and I am going to take that time for me, for healing, and for saying “get stuffed” to feelings of obligation and concern for others.

If you’re a friend, please don’t ask me how I am. The answer will be “shithouse”. If you’re not a friend, I will lie, and tell you that I am looking forward to Christmas, that I had a good day, that things are fine, that I am getting “better”. But what is “better”? A slight improvement? Or is it just a word to make you feel better about my disaster of a life?

If I don’t know you, if you ask me how many children I have, I’ll say, “one, he’s three”. But if you’re a friend, or if I want to be real with you, I’ll say, “Three, but only one living. I lost twin babies this year”. It’s horrible saying it out loud, but it’s even worse denying their existence.

Alex came with mum and dad and I up to Christmas Carols at Pearl beach yesterday, and this morning as we were packing up to leave, Alex and Inigo “helped” me to make the bed…

Half price zoo membership – deal runs out at midnight tonight.

http://cudo.com.au/sydney

Phew. I did something right.

There are plenty enough things I’ve stuffed up.

Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow.’” – Mary Anne Radmacher

Stolen from Emma.

I will try again tomorrow. It’s the best I can do.

To drink gin out of a sippy cup on route to a dinner party?

I would like to point out (in my defense), that it is after 4pm.

As well as chatting to a few mums that needed breastfeeding support, Ive also culled, sorted an labelled the toys, painted a birthday card for my gorgeous nephew that is about to turn 4, and started up the t-shirt printing again.

Feels much better than wallowing, but I think there is still wallowing to come

I believe in freedom of information, and I believe that everyone is entitled to the presumption of innocence.

That is the preface to a brief rant I am about to share about the whole wikileaks palaver.

I blame the new morning presenter on 702, who keeps alluding his opinion that Julian Assange is innocent of whatever he is being accused of in Sweden. Even though he hasn’t been accused of anything. So, yes, it isn’t fair to comment on a case until both sides have been revealed, and even then, it is possible for the truth to still be elusive – but still, you need both sides of a story to form an opinion. And the only people that have been talking publicly (that I have heard) in Australia, have been lawyers for Assange, who vociferously state that the sex was consensual, and therefore extrapolate that there can be no case to answer.

But think for a minute about consent. Just because you agree to have sex with someone with a condom, does that mean you also agree to have sex without a condom?

If you agree to sex at 1am while you are awake, does that imply consent at 5am while you are asleep?

I don’t presume to know the facts of this case, but I do think that the women making the complaint against Assange deserve the same presumption of innocence that he seems to be getting in the Australian media.

And every time you say that a rape charge “can’t be proven”, or it’s just “he said, she said”, you’re telling another victim of rape that it isn’t a good idea to report a rape. You’re telling women that the rights of a man to have sex are more important than the rights of a woman to say no.

Is that the message you want to give your daughter? Your sister? Your self?

It’s been said far more eloquently elsewhere, for example – here.

• Got a lie in for the first time in a few days. I’ve been doing the morning shift with Inigo since Monday, feeling very proud of myself. We had diner with mum and dad last night, and Inigo had a meltdown a the thought of coming home with mama instead of having a sleepover with Nanna. I wish I had that meltdown on video!

• Had my first solo bath in about 6 months. Having a bath was on the forbidden activities list for women with ruptured membranes, and since I’ve been out of hospital, Inigo has wanted to be with mama as much as possible, and that means solo bathing is a real luxury.

• Had my 6 week check up today. Found out a few things..
° I was very lucky that I didn’t end up in intensive care. My doctors were really worried about me, and very relieved when I started to improve.
° Although I have improved a lot since leaving hospital, it is going to take a while until I am back to normal. Roshni said she would have “liked” to have seen me better than I am by now, I shouldn’t expect too much.
° I can start some gentle exercise now. No weight training yet, but aqua aerobics would be ok.
° International travel mid next year would be OK. Previously I was told not to travel, “just in case”.
° And if we decide to allow hope to triumph over experience, and make another attempt to add to our family, the ideal time to wait after a c/s is 18 months. Being over 40 may change that recommendation.
° Usually, premature rupture in one pregnancy means an increased risk for future pregnancies. But because I was pregnant with twins, Roshni thinks that was the cause of the rupture, and a future single pregnancy would “probably” be ok. Sheesh.

• After all this excitement, we go to the post office in Merrylands to pick up a few parcels, where I forgot my credit card.

• Lunch at the Taj. Inigo coped very well with no nap, and no mango lassi (they forgot to bring it). Home to tackle some housework, for the first time in a long, long time.

Tomorrow, I am going to be completely wrecked…

(First image, Inigo and Nanna last night, second image, a four leaf clover I found on the day of Inigo’s birthday party)

Today, I went to a party for a very special two year old, then I went for a power shopping trip with my very fit sister in law. It was only an hour, but I walked from the car to the centre, shopped for an hour, and then back to the car carrying shopping. Sure, I had headspins on the walk back, and couldn’t talk to a friend on the phone and walk at the same time, but I made it back to the car, and I got some shopping done.

So, apparently, christmas might happen after all.

Today, my friend Josephine gave birth to a new baby boy. Welcome to the world Miles Atticus. You are very loved.

Today, we took the kid to a party. He was the only kid there, and he melted hearts all over the place. I borrowed a friends phone to take a few pics of him…

Happy Birthday Andrew!

Just sticking up a post so that people don’t think I have completely succumbed to alcoholism and despair.

I am going to post a copy of the funeral ceremony soon, but I thought I would wait until I had some photos to post at the same time – but I am in no hurry. I can’t yet look at the memorial cards – and if you wanted to be there and couldn’t be, let me know and I will send you a copy of the order of service and a comment card. So your thoughts for us can be included in our memorial.

So yes, things are bleak. And I don’t have energy, emotional of physical for anything other than getting through each day.

Northern Suburbs Crematorium is NOT on the cnr of Plassey rd, it is the other one, further up Dehli rd towards Chatswood.

Thank you SMH for stuffing that up. Not.

Yesterday, Inigo chose his outfit (as he is wont to do), and it was a stunner. His tie dyed hippy rainbow shirt (which says “my dad reads to me”), and purple fleece pants with a butterfly on the hip. His hair was looking spectacularly curly, and I had a hair clip (black though!) to keep it out of his eyes.

In Medicare, the woman at the counter complimented my beautiful daughter on her lovely manners (he likes to hand over the medicare card), and I decided to let it slide. I mean, in that outfit, who would guess he was a boy? Often I do correct people, but they get very embarrassed, and I really didn’t have much extra emotional energy yesterday.

But Inigo did. “But I’m a boy”, he piped up with.

Classic. You could have cut the air with a knife. And I look like the strangest mother in the world.

“He likes to choose his own clothes”, I squeaked. It was the best I could do in the circumstances.

My counsellor from Sids and Kids has been wonderful with helping me to talk to Inigo about death, and about life, and about what happens in between. Without her I would have been lost, knowing how to deal with this situation, how to guide Inigo through this terrible situation. When I asked if Inigo should attend the funeral, she suggested that while Inigo might not know the difference now, in later years he would want to know if he was at the funeral, and what role he played. That is why we have decided to bring him to the funeral, and to give him the job of handing out the stickers to the other kids for decorating the coffin. And I have asked friends to photograph and video the service so that he will be able to have his questions answered in the fullness of time.

She also suggested that including Archie and Aubrey in our family rituals was a good idea. So this week when Steph took me out, I bought three glass ornaments, small, medium and large, one for each of my boys, and had them personalised with their names. Then when I got home, the funeral director was waiting for me to sign some paperwork, so I dropped my shopping bags on the verge, and signed.

Cue large 4WD, running directly over my shopping bags. The gin was ok, the tonic was ok, but the bag with the ornaments was in the middle. Inigo’s ornament was fine, Aubrey’s ornament was fine, but the box that held Archies was crushed. I opened it to assess the damage, and it was completely undamaged.

I think I am due for some good luck.

I cooked dinner!

Nothing posh, just pasta with artichokes and lemon, but it was a step up from pasta and red sauce, and it was the first think I have cooked (barring reheating food and 2 minute noodles) in about 4 months.

And today I spent some time explaining what is going to happen tomorrow to the Squish. If you are coming tomorrow, don’t be surprised if you hear him talking about the funeral as a “party”. Since he just had his birthday party, I decided to tell him that it was party to say goodbye to his brothers, and that we would talk about them, and have music, and stickers. I told him that some people would be sad, but that we wouldn’t be sad forever, and that we were very happy that we had him in our lives. And that we love him very much. And he said, “yes, yes you do”.