#749 ‘Get better’ breakfast in bed

I could hear baby girl and Hubbie downstairs. He was trying to get her dressed, find socks, and asking if she wanted banana in her weetbix.

Me? I was upstairs, wallowing in self-pity.

I felt like my body was trying to destruct me from the inside-out. I was in pain, and had told Hubbie I wasn’t getting out to start the day, anytime soon.

So, the solution?


Hubbie brought me up breakfast. Just what the doctor ordered.

But I don’t meant the toast, tea or painkillers… rather, the loving husband ♥

#740 ‘Not the best’ childhood milestone

Baby girl hit a milestone last night.

Not the good kind.

As your child grows, it is ALL about the milestones. Rolling over. Sleeping through. Solids. Crawling. Babbling. Walking. Talking. Toilet training…

It just goes on and on and on.

We hit another milestone last night. In this thing called Parenthood, where the first sign of anything horrible

  • her first scraped knuckles when she fell pushing the bin up the driveway
  • her first head blow
  • the first sign of blood
  • the first proper vomit – down my leg no less

well, we ABSOLUTELY FREAK OUT, we stuck to routine and did just that last night.

Baby girl woke in the middle of the night. Crying and so upset. And then…

Dum da dum dum.


I won’t go into detail, just for the sake of her privacy as I write about this on this world wide web with almost every single eye available to stalk see, but let’s just say, it wasn’t pretty.

Fellow parents may guess, anyway.

We were horrified. Shocked. And then extreme sadness and disappointment… at ourselves. We as parents, had FAILED her.

We went to bed as she soon settled, after I had called ‘Nurse On Call’ (I should have them on speed dial) and spent a good half hour both in the silent darkness, the other half whispering to each other “how the hell did this happen?”

Relief for me this morning, as she woke happy and cheerful – nothing like the upset and crying image of the night before. Off to the docs we went, to find out…

It was not all bad news. Annoying yes. Serious, no. Apparently, for kids her age, it was very common.

A quote keeps going through my head today. My Mum on the phone, saying “you saved her.” Yes, maybe a bit dramatic Mum, it wasn’t life-threatening….

But then, gratitude came along, as it always does, especially when I am writing for this post. It was gratitude in that I decided to stop, think, pause, and pat myself on the back, because she was right.

If I hadn’t been as attentive as I was, I wouldn’t have caught ‘it.’ It would have gone undetected, and for God knows how long… I shudder at the thought.

But I did see it. It isn’t serious. There are far worse things out there, and as long as you can treat it quickly, you know your kid is still doing well.

Sure, she is growing up. She is doing 4 year-old things, learning and saying 4 year-old phrases, and also subsequently, catching 4 year old things… It’s a part of this growing up process. I am grateful for her growth, yes… just as long as it means I can buy an over-the-counter product if need be…


#684 My little doctor

I was in a ‘zone’ – a zone to clean the house as deeply and thoroughly as I could.

The house has not had a proper clean since the kitchen renovations started, so I was really keen.

I walked from the bathroom to the laundry with an arm-full of cleaning products. Because of this, and also, because of SmikG clumsiness, my protruding elbow collided with the handle of the door.

“Ahhh!” I gasped, half-wheezing, half-shrieking, throwing the products onto the nearby bench so I could clutch at my elbow. The impact had sent shock waves into my bone, and it was reverberating, there were pins and needles, and deep, deep agony. I rubbed it wildly, trying to get a grip of myself, but the sounds still came out.

“OW! Oh oh oh, ouch, ohhhhhhh!”

I knew what would come as soon as I became vocal, and sure enough in amongst my canine-like yelping, came the sound of small running footsteps.

Thud thud thud thud thud.

Baby girl flew past the laundry door, before coming to a halt and backtracking when she saw where I was. She came over quickly and looked up at me all wide-eyed as I held my elbow, grimacing.

“Mama you ok?”

“Oh, Mama hurt her elbow very bad, it hurts!”

She held my arm and kissed it once, looking up at me all patiently and calmly, full of love, the way I look at her when I am trying to calm her down.

“Feel better?”

“Oh, a little bit. Here kiss it some more.” She immediately obeyed and planted more sweet kisses on my elbow.

“Oh honey, that’s much better, thank you so much my darling.” It still hurt like hell, but my heart was now brimming with love and joy, and that kind of outweighed that pesky elbow pain 😉

#443 Beautiful things at the Royal Children’s Hospital

Baby girl was only little when we learnt of her hip dysplasia. Her left leg socket wasn’t fitting snugly around her thigh bone, creating the possibility of the bone slipping out, and not forming properly, and in turn hampering her future prospects of walking normally.

Or something to that effect. It’s not that an uncommon thing, as I soon learnt, though at the time I was absolutely distraught. My baby girl had to wear a leg brace from the early age of 8 weeks, for nearly 5 months, with the upside being that she was able to spend the second half of that time wearing it only at night, allowing her the possibility of movement during the day.

This of course pushed back her rolling/crawling/walking milestones. I was still impressed however when she took her first steps at 16 months – that was her willpower to move about and cover as much ground as she could. My trooper girl.

All is good now. She stopped with the brace when x-rays showed the socket wrapping around the bone, securing it more tightly, and follow up x-rays over the years showed further positive progress in that area.

Which is why we were at the Royal Children’s Hospital today. These doctors have a predisposition for cautiousness and check-ups.

I was so pleased to see the halls, walls and rooms in a new light this time when we walked in, about 2 years after our last appointment. The lift interiors had brightly-coloured drawings covering from top to bottom, and on the ground floor there was a windy climbing pipe contraption, with a huge mechanical butterfly upon the top with its wings slowly opening and closing every so often.

In the orthopaedic section there was a craft table set up for the kids, where they could colour in, paste scraps of material on paper, and create some special artwork to take home. Volunteers oversaw this area, helping out the kids where needed, and nearby there was a playmat with building blocks and cars to push around.

Soon, there was a “choo choo” sound, and whether coincidence or not, an odd-looking clown then wandered by to entertain/make fun of the kids. He blew up bubble-type balloons, called children “Nanna” and “Adidas” (“because that’s what’s on your top”), but most importantly, he made them laugh and smile.

He made them forget they were in a hospital. All of these things made the children forget, if only for a bit.

And isn’t that a precious thing… while we wait for a world where children never fall sick, in the meantime let’s make the world a little happier, a little more fun, a little brighter for the ones who do need to visit a doctor for whatever reason…

… and I’m so happy to see an institution like the RCH, doing just that. It makes me proud to be a human.


And, baby girl is doing well 🙂

#321 Freedom from hospital

I walked in and out of hospital a lot today.

Re-park the car. Get some coffee. Get some food. Make a phone call. Re-park the car.

Repeat repeat repeat.

And in that time, I saw, A LOT. People getting wheeled in on beds, masks over their faces. Wheelchair-bound patients, angry looks on their faces. Elderly people sitting side by side, hunched over in their solitary hospital room. The sound of pain. The look of helplessness. Tiredness. Despondent eyes. Clinical walls and grey grey grey, EVERYWHERE.

My lips did turn upwards too, though. I remembered with weird fondness, as I looked up to the familiar flight of stairs, how over 3 and a half years ago I was in the midst of such pain, only to be met by the most amazing, beautiful and curious eyes in the world, in the immediate aftermath.

I saw babies. I saw mother’s and father’s carrying their own. I looked at little children, the adult hands they were holding, and a part of me was happy.

Despite my thoughts, I was still happy to be able to move in and out of the hospital as I pleased, to not be bound by ill health or medical necessity to require a stay, no matter how short or long, there. And it was twice as nice when I walked out late afternoon, with both Mum, AND Dad beside me.

He was discharged today. An unexpected happiness that we are so happy about.

I know there is a tremendous amount of positivity and amazing acts performed by the medical staff in hospitals all over the world, but seriously, I’m just glad that I was able to leave the premises today. With both my parents.

#198 People to look after me

I am sickly, so this will be short.

But put simply, I am grateful I have people to look after me when I’m unwell. I’ve caught some kind of virus, via/Hubbie/baby girl, with them catching it via God knows who, and this virus which has waited until the sweet end of its reign to make its mark on me, leaves you feeling like, well… absolute shit.

I am cramping in my abdomen and lower back. Nausea surrounds me constantly, and dry-wretching leads to nothing. I am so weak, from lack of sleep due to aches and pains, and also the fact that I have barely eaten anything because I cannot stomach it.

However, today I had my Hubbie tending to me. My MIL had baby girl for the first part (worst part) of the day as we headed to the doctors to discuss, What The Hell? (Apparently there’s a bug going around, Melburnians beware).

Baby girl paraded me with kisses when she woke from her nap and has made sure to envelope me with affection as much as humanly possible.

So, I feel like shit, but I also have love.

People that give a damn.

And that’s pretty un-shit worthy if you ask me.

#151 Home Doctor

It’s hard enough working on a Sunday, albeit an icy cold FREEZING one, without having the difficulty of then finishing work and receiving a phone call from Hubbie saying baby girl won’t stop crying.

5 minutes later, another phone call: she still won’t stop crying.

What do you do? You still have to drive all the way home. I couldn’t teleport myself, though the invention of one would be greatly appreciated by many, not just me.

At home, not even my hugs and kisses could settle her. I could tell she was upset, and as she pointed to her runny nose and right ear, I was concerned she had some kind of infection.

We called the Nurse-on-call who suggested we either try to get her to take some pain relief (good luck to us, baby girl hates it) or see a doctor within 12 hours. So we did both.

After organising an at-home doctor visit, we unfortunately, had to force the syrup down her throat. Not a 5-star parent moment. It was all tough love, tears and tantrums, but despite the horror of it all, once it was down, she actually gave us high fives for having endured it. That girl still loved us, I was chuffed.

When the doc came over the pain relief had already kicked in. She was dancing, beating her drum, singing out loud, playing with her toys. I felt bad, explaining to the bearded man that she had actually been very bad up until recently.

Luckily he believed us. He checked her out, said she had no ear infection, and just that her cold was making her ear passage inflamed or expanded or something like that, which is where the pain was coming from. Pain relief would help.

He had been checking her out slowly as she hid behind me on the couch. Even I was looking up at him as this tall figure loomed above us: he was huge, quite intimidating for a doctor. As Hubbie said later, even HE was scared of him. He had checked her chest and back, got her temperature, and felt her tummy. She had started to loosen up. He had then proceeded to shine a light in both ears and even got her to do “ahh!” so he could look inside her mouth. She had been scared, but now she was a star pupil.

And then the clincher. After he told us what he thought, his simple diagnosis of cold-causing-ear-ache, he got her hand and took out a pen. Baby girl watched in careful fascination as he drew this:

2016-07-24 19.33.56

It was a little gesture, and yet it meant the world to her. After doing one hand she looked at it in awe and then pointed to her other hand. He was to draw a flower on that one too 🙂 It was at this point I told baby girl that this man was a doctor, and that he had helped her (I had deliberately put off this info until she was settled). She high fived him and waved as he walked out of our house happily.

Appearances can be so deceiving. This man seemed a little scary to all of us, and yet he dealt with baby girl’s fears beautifully and even gained her trust, I think even her trust in ALL doctors. That’s a pretty big thing. She would have loved him even more if she had heard him tell us that we could give her any food she wanted, even junk food, to keep her energy up.

So to you home doc, cheers. You made our baby girl a little better tonight.