Burnt toast & a broken plate

Things with my body since surgery are frustrating.


Today is six weeks post surgery and Hunna said to me last night

" wouldn't it be great if you just woke up tomorrow and you were suddenly better?"

" Definitely " I replied.

Yesterday was the worst day. My body is not doing anything usual. The twitches and twinges that are usually associated with one thing now mean another.

Things like : - the old feeling of period pain now means go do a number two. The new feeling of period pain is lower back pain.. Etc

It's a hard process figuring out what I actually need at the moment.

My hormones have been off the show and so have my periods.

Yesterday I sent Hunna this exasperated text. ( Mum if you're reading you might want to avert your eyes from the text. Level 3 swear word warning )

Suffice to say, the day wasn't great. By night time I had sat on the toilet at least 10 times with some ugly results. I just felt horrid.

This morning as I put the toast in to cook under the grill ( we don't have a toaster) I got distracted. When I ran over half the muffins were burnt. The smoke alarm started blaring loudly as I salvaged the other half and sat down to eat my semi smoked toast. A second later ( he scoffs everything) Boy came up with his plate and asked for more, as I reached out my fingers didn't quite grasp the lip of the plate and it came down with an almighty smash.

Pieces were everywhere and Boy and I wailed and hugged each other for a few minutes. Both in complete distress before I pulled myself together. Calmed him down. Got him the plastic Nemo plate ( which he should've had in the first place ) . And started again.

The funny thing was that earlier this morning I was thinking about how I should probably try for a New Years resolution. And was wondering why I lacked complete motivation to come up with something.

I realised, as I perfectly cooked some more muffins, that each day.. each moment. I have a chance for a "do over".

I'm just not the type to wait.

All the " I'll start that tomorrow's " do is give me an opportunity to procrastinate.

Yesterday as we sat and watched t.v ( after giving up for the tenth time) Boy came up to me and kissed my scar. " Feel better?" He looked at me through his long lashes. " You need bancake ( bandaid) on your tummy?" He asked. And I cuddled him and felt the strength return to my limbs and the will return to my mind.

And I got up and started again.

So here's to starting again. ...and again.... and again...

When Em came

4 weeks post surgery Em came to visit.

We flew home together. ( well ... away from hers but closer to mine)

Her annual visit is always much anticipated and we love to have her lolloping around our house.

This time, Em was placed under the strenuous task of being my muscles for the week ( yes sir, no lifting for me)

We flew in Tuesday night.

During the week she came...

 

We went to the Vic Markets. It was a stinking hot day. Above 38 and I'm a mess on the floor when the mercury goes above 33. We retreated to the comfort of the Turners lounge room floor later that day.

 

 

We stayed up late and swooned over Gerard Butler and cried ( well i cried) and then did it all over again the next day.

We made it to Luna Park ( photos not included because the camera went flat)

We shopped and shopped.. We ate and ate.

We celebrated my father in laws 60th and Em celebrated their wifi ( we have none)

We phase 10 marathoned it till the late hours.

It was a deliciously short week and we wish she could've stayed longer. -if only to hang the washing out for me or put Boy in his car seat one more time ;)

We love to have her with us. We said our goodbyes and she left us in the wee hours of Monday morning.

See you when you come to visit again.

Boy says " Where Emlee? Emlee go plane sky? Emlee home" ( sad face )

From loke to love #5

read from loke to love #4 here

The language of loke

from loke to love part five

There is 21 days between me and eternity with my forever.

Kyle has flown back to Victoria for a week to work and save money for our honeymoon. I miss him dearly. I miss his warmth and comfort. I miss the calmative effect he has on me. 

Without him I feel like a little bird balancing on a power line. Flitting about trying to keep my balance and finally loosing footing before two little feet, in a moment of disaster, hit two separate lines and puff the current is complete and my little feet are completely singed and my little feathers are in a flurry above my head.

I get hives. I get a serious case of hives that stays for a week. My eyes puff up like a balloon. Like I am allergic to life.

Finally as the hives start to fade in severity the back of my throat bursts into a big delicious pustulous ulcer. It oozes a horrid trickle of green down the back of my throat. I can't eat. It is 14 days till eternity.

To make money matters worse, I am so unwell I can't work. 

I am a mess. My feathers aren't just ruffled, the shock has violently plucked them from my tiny bird body and hurled them into the sky.

I loose weight. The fat melts from my body as the healthy size I had been struggling to maintain slips from my grasp.

I am back to thin. Pale. Sickly.

I don't have the energy for anything. Let alone planning last minute wedding ideas.  It is with a weary heart I board the plane with 7 days to go. The antibiotics I am taking leave a horrid taste in my mouth. I can barely talk. I am completely defeated.

At the airport I walk the white tiles that seem to carry on for a thousand miles and descend to the bag area.

Kyle is there. He turns to me. The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile but his eyes greet me with worry. He takes me by the shoulders and pulls me deep into his embrace.

" I am so hungry" I whisper with a choke

"We'll get you something to eat" he soothes

"It hurts to eat" I bow my head in defeat

"You'll be ok" His words balm my throat like warm honey.


And the worry dissipates as he settles my broken mind.

20 minutes later on the way home, I am improved enough to try and eat. The first meal I eat in 7 days is a KFC popcorn chicken. Chicken never tasted so good.

This week.

Last week we came home from Tas. - Em came too. But more on that later.

 

For now here are a few of my favourite photos .. Just for fun.

 

 

Our first house inspection meant a whole lotta Toys needed to find a spot.

 

When they aren't spread all over the house. There is an awful lot.. Actually even when they are spread all over the house there is an awful lot!

 

 

 

The people's market delighted us with delicious 5 & Dime bagels and not so fresh communal coconuts. ( eye spy Em)

 

Then we ventured to the Clearit outlet. Twice because of its messy clothing awesomeness.

 

And I snapped a pic of Boy as we trundled down the road.

 

Yesterday when we went again he noticed his shadow, on a wall, for the first time.

 

He was amazed that Mumma and Bastian's shadows were following us and walking on the ground.

 

It's the little things that make me swoon over how gorgeous he is, how new everything is to him and how exciting the world is.

 

From loke to love #4

Read from loke to love #3 here

The language of loke

from loke to love part four

The date is set. The temple is booked, the reception organised. Our budget has been stretched to breaking point. There is nothing left but a measly $200 . That $200 is all there is to buy my wedding dress.

It probably seems ridiculous to some brides that I would leave my dress until last... but I have made  the decision that it is more important to embrace an eternity together in (for us) am expensive restaurant surrounded by happy, well fed family and friends. Wedding dress or none. I want my day to be about family.

I love the temple. That worldly cares don't mean so much. The temple doesn't need big wedding dresses, it doesn't need fancy flowers or bridesmaids all in a row. The temple is about family. Our family. It just needs Hunna and I. Most importantly as I kneel across the alter from him, Heavenly Father will become the third person in our relationship. He will be the binding that encourages me for years, through thick and thin, to stick with it.

Yet, there is still a part of me that thinks like the young girl who described her perfect wedding dress to her best friends on a lounge room floor one summer. But as I look, I become discouraged - as even second hand dresses don't meet the tiny allocated budget.

I am a slim size 6. It is difficult for me to find any dresses that fit well, let alone modest dresses under $200.

I know it shouldn't matter, but I can't hide my disappointment. 

I feel too guilty to pray and ask for something so worldly, so instead I pray for peace that I won't feel the need for possessions and will be filled with only contentment.

One morning I am on eBay looking at vintage cameras when I decide to peruse the wedding dresses. I am a sucker for punishment. Most of the options are for off shore tailoring in Asia. Many more are second hand dresses far to expensive for me. I keep scrolling and scrolling through hundreds of options. I suddenly spy an add for a dress, just before I decide to give up. I click on it. The dress is in a boutique wedding shop in Melbourne. The listing says the dress is brand new and it can no longer be sold in store because it was altered to fit a model for a promotional shoot. It has been altered to fit a size 6. It isn't modest, but I see with a new yoke it could be. My jaw drops at the price. It is starting bid at $100. I bid and for the next five days I am on tenterhooks as the listing progresses further and further until finally time is up and it ends. I have won it for a small $100 plus $20 postage. When the package arrives later that week I am excited but dreading that it won't fit. 

I open the package and...

It is perfect. It is like it has been made just for me. I am elated. I am over pluto, I am wearing a dress that matches the description I gave years before on the lounge room floor one sunny afternoon.

In the weeks to follow I chance upon material that almost matches perfectly, it takes a little effort and soon a dress maker who will replace the yoke with a modest capped sleeve alternative is found and all within budget.

My prayers have been answered in the most unexpected way. I am blessed with the knowledge that my Heavenly Father knows the desires of my heart.



go to part 5 here...

Ode to Boy

Boy has a laugh like a cool breeze on a hot summers day. It tickles my ears and whips my hair softly around my face. It smells delicious and lingers just long enough to enjoy but never stays too long that you don't miss it the minute it's gone.

His laugh is never boisterous or crude. Never tormenting or jeering.

Always, always, joyous and innocent.

Oh! His sweet innocence. How I cherish his grin, his milky white teeth and plump dimpled cheeks.

His banter, his whit, his language, his laugh.

Even his furrowed brow and pouting lips can be loved and adored when so quickly they burst into inexplicable, unexplainable, catchable laughter.

Laughter which carries the worries of a mother, and shoo shoo's them away like steam from a train. Billowing upwards and forwards into the sky. Over the hills and the mountains of life.

My ears,they are are greedy, to hear his delight. His sweet little giggle tumbling into a big bellied rumpus.

Boy has a laugh like a cool breeze on a hot summers day.

 

 

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And a book

 

I wanted to share my latest cook book.

It's called Grow Cook Eat by Willi Galloway

" a food lovers guide to vegetable gardening. Including 50 recipes. Plus harvesting and storage tips. "

I am a big believer in self sufficiency. Part of my goals for the year include starting a vegetable garden. Problem is. I have NEVER tried to grow anything except a few herbs which always inevitably wilt and die.

I am particularly concerned with the quality of fruits and vegetables and eating seasonally.

So I've decided to push my boundaries a little and start a little patch at Phillips.

This book is a revelation. It has information on setting up my new patch, mulching, sowing, composting, planting, harvesting..everything from start to finish.

And then of course delicious yummy recipes to utilise my new yummy garden.

Perfect for my beginners greenish thumb.

If you have any gardening tips I'd love to glean them. I need all the help I can get!

 

Happy Late Newy Year

Oh yeah, so it's 2013. Sorry if I totally forgot. I've been recovering ( Mums word not mine ) I like to say I am sick. Which I am - because I have a horrendous cold.

So on New Year's Eve I was all like " I should totally, probably think about the past year.. Like reflect or something?" Then I was all like.. Meh can't think of anything that's happened really...

So I looked back through some old posts and was all like " oh! That happened to me this year?"

 

Summary: { here's where you can skip to the summary of the summary if you like }

 

January was spent recovering from a massive trip to Cairns in the Jazz car. Sing it " Jazz Packing" .. We got back at the start and I think it took me a few weeks to enter post holiday depression.

February Boy was still romping around fairly naked as it was still hot enough to allow it and I turned into the creature of the black lagoon. The post holiday slump still looming. I was called into Primary as music leader.

March I rocked my Stella jacket over steak and got out of the house ALOT to avoid returning to post holiday slump.

April saw the pizza resistance of many crumble at my pizza party ( which I am now thinking will be an annual event ) oh, and Kyle lost his job. Slump. But we took a weekend away to stick our rude fingers up at le Boss and show we could still enjoy life without employment. Also I started our first finger lickin Easter tradition.

May Boy finally shows he can be clothed.. If only in pjs ALL day to avoid too many "put your clothes on" confrontations. Cause two a day would be too much. Emily came to grace us with her annual visit and we hammed the whole thing up a bit. We love her.

June we got some culture. Lamented about our hair loss. Celebrated three years of marriage. And of course made more pizza. Kyle got a new job.

July we wangled and I remembered to say kee-n-waa instead of queee-noo- a. Props for me. Also I started courier moments and the beginning of our love story. I got in two car accidents in two weeks. Neither my fault!

August we ate pizza instead of making and eating. Found pinterest again. And decided to build a small house project. Our love story continued much to Hunna's dismay.

September I packed the family up and shipped us off to Phillips. Cleaned an awful lot. Went into cleaning slump mode. Started dreaded potty bribing ..erm I mean training. Boy had learnt how to take his clothes off. The nakedness began again.

October I was sick again. Again. Again. Went full on Vego. Found a free piano on gumtree. Joy. Cleaned some more. Slump.

 

November we wrapped up the primary presentation. Went to our new ward once and then I flew to Tassie for my "holiday" which turned into --

December in Tassie sick. Again. Hospital. Bowel resection. Christmas .. Just.

 

So in summary of the summary ( if you couldn't be bothered reading)

Hunna lost his Job and some hair. I lost some hair and some organs. We got older. A lot wiser.

And considering I thought "meh can't really remember anything much happening this year " I have either dealt with the calamities head on and with gusto or I have amnesia because they are too horrid to recollect.

Either way I'm pleasantly surprised I felt I had an O.K year.

What more can a girl ask for than that "yeah, actually, we're O.K" feeling.

 

After the year that was -- I feel like I've almost moved onto adulthood. Like I've been through a ring of fire. Killed my lion or jumped from my high tower to appear a man at the other side.

Is there a club room for Adults? Adults seem to disappear a lot. Hunna disappears so much he must be loving the club room perks.

I wonder if they serve vegetarian....