I did make a joke about a broken leg

So that would probably be a logical next disaster – I’m looking on todays sprain as good fortune 🙂

Between the hurry leg and a last minute opportunity to do a stats refresher course on the weekend, we won’t be heading up to Pearl Beach as planned. But at least I’m not sick (just a throat tickle and a cough), and I have a chance to learn some of the 100 level stats I am supposed to know before I start 200 level stats (my major source of anxiety this semester).

80%

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I can swallow without painkillers, I can breathe, I can stay awake for more than an hour, and I can eat! I’m not feeling 100%, but after the past few months, 80% feels pretty damn good 🙂

Inigo and I took his paperwork up to school on Wednesday morning, and he is now on the road to being enrolled in big school. His school transition program starts next month, so we are gearing up for a big end of the year, and hopefully he is looking forward to the exciting elements of school rather than the scary ones. We’ve chosen a school that is just a bit further away than our local school, it’s just a bit smaller, a bit more diverse, and it has a school garden program, and no canteen. It’s still in easy cycling distance from home, and we’ve been attending playgroup and other activities there since before Inigo could walk, so he is very familiar with the environment.

I am trying super hard to be upbeat and positive, and not give in to the “he was only born about a week ago, and now I have to give his care over to the state, and he’s still my tiny baby” panic. He is sooo ready for the academic side of school life, and we are doing our best (with the help of his new preschool) to support his social interactions with kids his own age. He has no trouble holding long conversations with adults, but tends to find his peers pretty boring. Since that reminds me so much of me, I do worry, but I also know that we have made good choices for him, and that he will be well supported. And school for him will be worlds away from what I experienced in the mid 1970’s!

Uni is on a break for another week, so all I have to do is look after myself (and avoid getting sick again), and look after my lovely family. A new development that I would like to record for my own recollection is that in the past couple of weeks, bedtime has (touch wood) ceased to be a drama. After my very low point a few weeks ago, I’ve managed to institute a new routine that involves reading a long form story (starting with Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and now James and the Giant Peach), after a few chapters of which he now snuggles in for a cuddle and drifts off to sleep in my arms. I hesitate to say that we have cracked the sleep problem, because it has been the bane of our existence for four and a half years, but the last two weeks have been great. Sleep time is now a time of loving connection and joy rather than a two hour screaming match that leaves everyone emotionally traumatised. Long may it last.

And tomorrow I am having friends over for a crafty morning. Mark has been going out on a Monday evening to follow his crazy hobbies, so I am co-opting Saturday mornings for mine. There is an open invitation to all, so if you are up for a bit of cake nibbling and yarn fondling, do pop over!

Squish goes Splat! Part two…

The hospital has a handy little card that they give to parents of kids with head injuries – symptoms to look out for in the 24-48 hours after the accident.

This morning, he was fine, but this afternoon, he was complaining of a severe headache, nausea, and sleepiness. three of the symptoms they want you to watch for. He also had a fever.

I rang health direct, who told me to take him back to emergency straight away.

So we spent another 4 hours at Hornsby Hospital casualty, he had a much more thorough neurological assessment, (and a urine test to rule out another bladder infection), and we were sent home. I’m confident that he doesn’t have any brain damage, but possibly concussion combined with a virus which is causing the nausea and fever.

We’re home now, he’s asleep, and I’m looking forward to a good long time before we have to reset the “Days Since Squish has Been in Hospital” counter.

And I got the results for my mid semester exam today, a Distinction, so I am very relieved!

Breathing

No news from the land of reproductive disasters, but I am still here, still breathing, and still waiting.

I’ve come to the conclusion that PSY246 (Cognition) and I will be on much better terms next year than this, and that I am nowhere near prepared for an exam next week. So I have withdrawn from that subject. And if I don’t get a massive amount of work done between now and Sunday night, I may have to withdraw from my other subject as well. Thanks to my new friend Wendy for setting me straight about each lecture recording covering two sets of lecture notes – that was really doing my head in!

So it’s head down and bum up for the next couple of weeks if I want to see decent results. Time to put the wallowing on hold for just another little while.

And in Squishy news, he’s been super good at pre-school nap time, and doing his piano practice without too much complaint, and he filled up his massive sticker chart, so I caved to his request to get sparkly light up shoes. $70 sparkly light up shoes, but that is my issue, not his. He is exquisitely joyful to own a pair of such outrageously splendid shoes. And I love to see him happy!

O Week

No tutorials or pracs this week, but thanks to Bev and Mum I am able to attend the first lectures of each of my two subjects (Social and Personality Psychology, and Cognition 1). So today all I had to do was get my student card, and try to borrow a book from the library.

After the walk from the carpark, I was already sweaty and lightheaded. I found the line for the student card, and quickly decided that I would either pass out or vomit if I had to stand there for more than a bout 5 minutes, so I gave up. The school leavers around me in the queue were outraged that I was planning on staying on campus without a valid student card. I thought one of them was going to hyperventilate because of the wild and unbuttoned anarchy. And that is clearly the problem with mature age students on campus 😉

I found myself some water, and joined the Dr Who society, the Greens, the Psychological Society, the Womens Collective, the LGBTI group (poor chap wasn’t quite ready for me), and the atheists. By which point I was ready to take to my chaise. I then came across the Campus Wellbeing stall, and it occurred to me that I might as well go and make friends with them, being that if this year goes well I’ll have a baby, and I may need extra support, and if things go badly, I won’t have a baby, and I will very shortly afterwards be certifiably insane…

So I staggered upstairs, explained my history to the lovely Jackie, and made an appointment to see a disability support officer in a few weeks time. She then offered to help me get my student card by taking me to the head of the queue. I almost protested, but better sense prevailed, and I gratefully accepted. And then, once I got it, I had another sit down for an hour to recover my strength to get back to the car.

So I spent about 3 hours in total, and managed to get 1 student card, drink about 2 litres of water, and book in to the wellbeing centre.

But I appear to have completely bypassed all of the promised O Week craziness.

Should I go back tomorrow? I still have a book to find!

Finally enrolled

But because this has all taken so freaking long – all the tute, lecture and prac places are filled, and I have been forced to enrol in classes on Tuesdays and Wednesdays that are on after I have to pick up Inigo from preschool.

I’ll have to try begging to get into some of the classes that are already full.

Oh, UNE, how I miss you!

Oh, and I finally had contact from the hospital. I’ll see the high risk team on the first of March. Let’s keep our fingers crossed that I make it that far.

Four words

Downton Abbey Paper Dolls!

Thank you Jezebel!

Now, for the news that matters…

I was granted 20 credit points by Macquarie. I can use those credit points to get exemptions for subjects that are similar to ones I have already done. On Friday I asked for an exemption for 100 level psych 1&2, with the intention that I would take 100 level stats this semester which would then allow me to take on 200 level subjects next semester.

I’ve been boring my friends stupid with talk of stats, of planning a light semester (only 1 subject, so I can really get my teeth into it), and mentally preparing myself for the onslaught.

And then I was granted an exemption for stats. An exemption I didn’t want, and didn’t ask for.

Now it seems like a free pass, “woo hoo! I don’t have to do stats this semester”, etc, etc…

But what happens when I need to do 200 level stats without even studying 100 level stats.

It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

And in order to avoid thinking about it while I spend this semester out of my brain with stress about something I cannot control, I think I’ll do personality, or sensation and perception…

Well…

That was about as much fun as stabbing yourself in the eye with a fork. And I am not done yet.

The subjects I have chosen all have prerequisites, which I will be exempted from because of previous studies, but that credit wont be applied until
Some time over the weekend. Once that is done, I should be able to apply online on Monday or Tuesday.

Then I can buy textbooks, and start the serious business of study. Finally!

Enrollment day

Tomorrow is enrolment day at Macquarie. I am all kinds of conflicted about the decision, but for now, I am going to stick with Macquarie. If it all goes pear shaped, I am pretty sure UNE would take me back, and give me credit for anything I achieve at Macquarie, so it’s a pretty low risk experiment.

That said, it’s a lot of hassle to avoid being away from my kid for one three day residential school. Now the wheels are in motion, and I am going to make the best of things, and try to be excited about my first ever experience as an on campus university student. At 42 years of age, I’ll be finding out what I missed out on by having my *head up my own arse at 18 years old.

*Disclaimer – while I think that most 18 year olds have their head up their own arses, I think there are exceptions, and some of them even pass first year. I also think it is fair to note that in the intervening years my head has not been entirely, or permanently removed from its place of lodging.

Wish me luck!