The Jamjar

Life as a flow chart

I have a few friends who have decided not to have children. And it makes me think sometimes. It's not that I have a problem with their decision (not that it's any of my business) or think they're going to regret it, or one day change their minds. I don't want to tell them all the things they're missing or how much richer their lives might be if they had children - they can do what they like, really, I say more power to them. What I do wonder about though is the whole "thinking" about having children and "deciding" to or not to. You see, I never did.

Well I did. But it was in a very compressed timeframe and it didn't really involve anyone else.

I did not project my life out in 5 year clumps. Or 2 year clumps or any clumps of any really significant clumping number. Sometimes I think about what I'll do at Christmas and that'll be about as far ahead as I can manage. I did not decide to get married at 20, then wait 3 - 5 years before cutting my hours at work down to half and getting pregnant and starting a family before I was 30. I never ever had anything like a life conversation with my boyfriend/fiance/husband before during or after our relationship/engagement/marriage. And it seems, that a heck of a lot of people *do* have that conversation, *do* think about such things and *do* make that plan (or *a* plan, at least) and it bewilders me that I've made it this far without one!

What happened with me was that one day, a wee while after I married Greg, I got clucky. I came over all maternal and broody - for about a week. In that week I decided I wanted to have a baby. So I made a list - what would I have to do in order to become pregnant and have a baby (I probably underlined it at the top of the page)

Stop using contraception was one thing - I decided that I would stop taking The Pill for six months. If i stopped taking the oral contraceptive now (then) and waited 6 months (for my body to get over the shock of it all) then I could get pregnant and have my baby in (counting on fingers) September.

Sounded perfectly reasonable to me.

Next on the list was health. I'd have to be healthy to have a baby, so I'd need a full medical to make sure I was. I made an appointment with my doctor - who, by the way, laughed when I told him I wanted a full medical examination because I was going to have a baby later in the year. I guess it was my crestfallen expression that rallied his jocularity to a more serious tone and he told me it was a very good idea afterall and deemed me fit and perfectly healthy to breed.

Next on my list was to read up about the subject of conception, birth and raising children. As I am not so keen on libraries (the books are stacked in such a way as I can't see the covers) I went to my favourite bookstore and purchased way too many books on the subjects - I liked the ones with graphic pictures the best.

Last on my list was 'discuss with Greg'. That pretty much consisted of "Greg, I want to have a baby" and him saying "what? no it's Liverpool in the red strip get out of the way Michelle I can't see the television" (ok it wasn't *quite* like that, I'm sure he remembers it differently and more to the point: accurately - but I won't ask him cos then he'll tell me and then I'll know and I already know too much about myself as it is)

ANYWAY.

So that's me *deciding* to have my first child - involved a decision, a list, some research and some co-operation from my partner. I didn't think about how it would affect my life, I didn't think how it might impact my seedling career. I didn't think about it financially, dynamically, relationship'ily. I certainly didn't think about the bond of children either - that double edged sword of love and family that ties tighter than you'd ever know even if someone told you beforehand and you believed them, you still wouldn't know until you experience it.

And it's okay not to want to experience it - because it's not just the love side of the sword you need to feel as a parent - it's the other edge too - the one of loss. And thank God and whomever I have to pay that I've never experienced that, but today like a number of days since I became a parent - I felt the potential of that loss. Even the hint of it is like cold stone fear in your stomach, and metalic horror in our mouth. And just like the family ties and love that bonding with children brings; even if someone tells you beforehand, and even if you believe them, you'd never ever be ready to lose a child - and the *potential* of losing a child is like the scent of horrible dread on the wind.

Today Amy got sick. She got very sick, very quickly. She seemed to have a temperature. She had a headache that made the whole of her skull, her eyes and her neck hurt. She became extremely sensitive to light. She lost her balance when she tried to move. She felt stiff and sore in her neck and shoulders. She said the pain in her head made her want to throw up. When you live in New Zealand, you know about Meningococcal disease and when those flu-like symptoms include the restricted movement of the neck, you get thee to a doctor.

We went to our local Accident and Emergency Superclinic in Botany. To the annoyance of some of the other patients who were there when we arrived, we where whisked into consult ahead of them all. The Doctor on duty did a thorough and methodical examination on Amy - it seemed he was working through a checklist. He suspected it might be Viral Meningitis and phoned through to the Hospital to tell them we were on the way. Before we left, Amy was given a shot of penicillin.

Amy seemed to be getting worse. By the time she was on a gurney in A&E Middlemore 30 minutes later, the stiffness and soreness had spread down her body to her legs, she couldn't stand any light, her face was flushed, she had a temperature and she was complaining of being very cold. After being examined they decided she needed a lumbar puncture.

She did very well to stay as still as she did because it was painful. But they got the samples they needed - drops of precious spinal fluid and sent it to the lab to be tested to show if she did, in fact, have meningitis. They would also be able to tell what type of meningitis she had and if it was a bacterial strain, it could be treated with an antibiotic. If it was viral I'm not sure there's a hell of a lot they can do but ride the storm of it.

I'm not one to fret. I don't worry about what might happen in this type of situation. I steal myself for possible scenarios but I don't dwell on them and I just make myself ready for each decision as it comes up. I think I'm pretty logical in a stressful situation - and I know I'm very focused on the task at hand. I'm also one to fall completely to pieces later on when I'm at home and my child is sleeping and the stitches are holding the wound together beautifully. So, although Amy was feeling so very ill, it was a fairly relaxed atmostphere in our room - and we waited. She talked a little, tried to sleep a bit. Mostly we just wished people'd stop coming in and turning the lights on to check on her.

Then one of the doctors came back to say the tests had not revealed meningitis, the spinal fluid was completely clear. By this time Amy was actually starting to sound better. Talking more, and more alert - I think the penicillin had kicked in. They were still concerned about the photosensitivity she was experiencing, but having ruled out any meningococcal disease, they and we were a lot happier.

She's still there in Middlemore Hosptial tonight. When the orderly who was delivering meals asked if she'd like some dinner, Amy said yes, she was feeling quite hungry. That's a great sign, we said. The orderly asked Amy if she'd prefer corned beef or fish, Amy said "Seriously?" a culinary rock and a hardplace but she decided corned beef and struggled through some of it with "God mum, i even prefer your cooking to this!"

So after our long day, I came home. Home to a black cat who'd been unceremoniously locked inside all day and was at once both glad I was home and busting to get outside. Home to my cold cup of tea and half made lunch. Home to emails from clients and cancelled nightclasses. I stood in my kitchen and looked at my cold tea and toast and thought how different this day might have gone had she been as sick as we'd suspected. How damn lucky I am that the scent of loss wafted away on the wind yet again.

[UPDATE] Amy is home, and sore and sick but so much better than she was. They don't know what she had just some viral somethingorother and so she's in bed sleeping after being in the noisy hospital where everyone woke her up every five minutes to take her obs and check she was okay through the night. Thanks to everyone at Botany A&E for taking the situation seriously without me having to pull out a tantrum, and to the Doctors at Middlemore who were proactive and real - especially to Eric the very cute resident. And thank you to all-yawl for your comments and emails and phonecalls and txts - I was a bit embarrassed this morning when I realised how much I'd written last night - seems eating a packet of ginger kisses for dinner at 11pm after not eating any food all day then blogging about stressful events means lots of words. But thank you so much for your care.

Last night, before I left the hospital Amy said to me as she txt talked with her friends "look, i'm nearly dying and I'm still txting" to which I admitted "well I sent that pxt of you in hospital to the jamjar and when I get home I'll probably blog about this." she agreed, we both suck - but we have great friends.

Thank you.

Place Holder

Cinderella has a tidier room

Not all my children are blurry - this one has been wanting this night to arrive for so long, and when it did it was perfect. You're beautiful Amy, and not just on the outside.

Like a duck to water..

..or a rat up a drainpipe or something.

Chrisnmsn

Michelle says:    crumbs it's cold in my office
Chris says:   PUT A JUMPER ON
Chris says:   AND STOP CALLING ME CRUMBS

Around the watercooler...

• One of my students last night mentioned this from yesterday's Sideswipe column in the New Zealand Herald:

  "This ordinary post on a personal weblog turns into a chilling story. The blogger, Simon Ng, of Queens, New York, writes: " ... Anyway today has been weird, at 3 some guy ringed the bell. I went down and recognised it was my sister's former boyfriend. He told me he wants to get his fishing poles back. I told him to wait downstairs while I get them for him. While I was searching them, he is already in the house. He is still here right now, smoking, walking all around the house with his shoes on which btw I just washed the floor 2 days ago! Hopefully he will leave soon ... " Within hours, the ex-boyfriend had murdered both the blogger and his sister. The blog post contradicted the murderer's alibi, and he's been charged with murder. The victim's last post is still online and over 250 readers of his weblog have left condolence messages. (Source: nydailynews.com)"

• I am loving the new Stereophonics CD - Language Sex Violence Other? (their website is pretty groovy too).

• I have a crush on Yoshi while having a fullblown, wanton affair with my Nintendo DS.

• I just made, and am drinking, the best coffee ev0r!

26 Things - Just a sample

iChat

Michelle: mmm my phone doesn't ring when i get a call.. hmm.
Klie: that is a shitty phone
Klie: phones that don't ring are not the kind of phones anybody is looking for, michelle
Michelle: well i know that NOW

another NotA26Thing.. just.. dinner

Fast Edible Meals for the Hungry

This didn't photograph as well as it tasted. It was really quick to cook - took as long as it takes pasta to become el dante - so, after you throw your pasta into a pot of boiling salted water and while it's cooking - throw a finely diced onion, two zucchini, finely diced celery (from the leafy end) and capsicum into a pan with a good dollop of olive oil. When the onion softens, pour in (or add fresh) a tin of chopped tomatoes. Push 12 whole mussels into the mix and then the cooked pasta (spaghetti in this case) on top.

It's ready to eat when all the mussels have steamed opened - if any don't open, discard them (well you're not gonna get into them *anyway*. Heap onto a plate and sprinkle with a little parmesan cheese and enjoy! Serves 2.

PS: a splash of PeriPeri sauce (or chilli) to shuzsh it up too.

26 Things - Pile

Campbell Live!

what.. what did John Campbell just say? "highly clitical" ?

?

crikey. mind on other things, JC?

not a 26 Thing.. just a.. thing

Weekend Feedback

It seems that I'm:

• fun
• funny
• not eating enough
• a prude
• thin skinned
• having trouble remembering names
• a funny drunk
• a good dancer
• not walking fast enough
• not a Shania Twain fan
• looking good
• not like a *real* adult
• not going home
• to be invited to more parties
• more fun than a stripper

*blank look*

26 Things - Directions

26 Things - Do you see what I see?

26 Things - Connection

FQ TOPIC: Foreign

a) This blog thanks FridayQ for giving it an excuse for rambling on.
b) It must be Saturday morning.

FQ1: What's your native language? Do you speak any foreign languages? If so, how did you come to learn them?

My native language is New Zild. It's a mangled form of English that relies on the smoothing-out and flattening of vowel sounds so words are barely distinguishable from each other. And it embarrasses me that I speak this way - and I'm getting better at it as I get older.

I have been considering taking speech lessons to soften my thickening accent - yes, it annoys me *that* much. I cringe everytime I answer the phone and say "mushellw spaking" and when I'm transcribing from a tape and i have to listen to my own voice inbetween the lovely English tones of the person I've recorded. Thick, it's thick and I don't like it, no I don't.

But then, I've never liked my voice ever since I can remember. My mother used to say "Michelle, your voice goes right through me" and I would be teased at school for having a funny sounding voice when I spoke, and a wobbly kind of voice when I sang, and a far-too-deep voice for a girl. The fact I never stopped talking probably didn't help much either.

Only once in my childhood memory do I remember hearing something postitive about my voice and that was from a Radio personality named Jean Abbley. She was the mother of one of my Aunts. I must've been about 13 years old - she took my face in both her hands and looked into my eyes and said "You have the most perfect voice for radio."

I only speak New Zild. We were taught Maori in school, though I never paid much attention. I tried to learn Japanese for a while but never did get very far. I didn't even bother learning Italian for my trip and managed to spend 2 weeks in Italy without uttering a single Italian word or greeting. Go me!

FQ2: What's your native country? Have you visited any foreign countries? If so, which ones?

I was born and continue to live in New Zealand. I haven't traveled much - mostly because it doesn't occur to me to do so. I did travel to Europe a few years ago to visit a few friends I'd met through the Internet.

One of the very best parts of that trip was meeting JJ and I'd fly all the way back just to do that again.

As I mentioned, I've been to Italy and would love to go back, but at the moment there is a plan forming in my brain go to France though I'm not entirely sure where that thought is coming from or leading to but I'll start saving for that any minute now (and it has nothing to do with that stupid book The Da Vinci Code!) - Probably end up back in Roma *s*

I've also been to Rarotonga, and Fiji, Japan, Melbourne and Sydney, Australia.

FQ3: Are there any foreign foods, books, movies, or other items that you are particularly fond of? Name some of your favorites.

I like all sorts of food.. I went through a phase in the 80s where I adored French cuisine. Italian food is wonderful, as is Japanese. Hey.. I just realised - I had great Chinese food in Venice, and fabulous Italian food in Japan - that's funny.

I think the best food (and floral arrangements funnily enough) is here in New Zealand. The fusion of cultural palettes and fresh produce makes Kiwi Cuisine my favourite. It seems the chefs here take the best from the world and make it their own and I wouldn't hesitate to recommend some of our fine restaurants to visitors.

Of course.. there's another part of kiwi cuisine - the comfort of a pie, custard squares, egg sandwiches and cups of tea but I think you really need to have grown up here to appreciate it.

I haven't read foreign books due to not being able to read other languages - and I don't tend to see foreign films so much (ie: films not in english) but of those I have seen, I particularly liked Run Lola Run (German) and of course, Amelie (French) - how could you not like that movie. Motor Cycle Diaries (Argentina - still showing here at the Rialto) was really good too. I enjoy the movies that have been coming from China and distributed through our main stream theatres: Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, House of Flying Daggers and Hero. I'm looking forward to Ong Bak (from Thailand, I think) this week sometime I hope.

FQ NATIVE: If you had to trade your nationality for that of any foreign country, which would you choose and why?

This is a hard question to answer. Running through the Nationalities: American, Canadian, British, Irish, Scottish, Scandenavian, South American, German, French, Italian. God forbid: Australian.

A friend was telling me about Somalia recently. Saying how status there is determined by the ability to use the language (Arabic, specifically, I believe). Your level of education is visible through the type or level of the (Arabic) language you use. Poets are held in high esteem, for instance, due to their ability to manipulate language to a high degree. Whereas some cultures in other countries hold people to a Class system and the amount of information/education they are exposed to is based on their caste or birth, Somali seems to value knowledge regardless of clan or birth status.

I know that Somalia has a shitload of problems that makes it a less than obvious answer to this question, but even though it's simplistic, this one point of valuing education and communication so highly really appeals to me.

Take the rest of the day

Why do I make people wait? I should say to the client "No, I'm in the car on the way to spend the day with a friend, I can't make that change now." but I don't. I look at the time, and how I'm only about 2kms from home and say "Ok, email me those specifications and I'll make that change" do a U-turn and go home, phoning my friend and telling him I'm going to be late. I make him wait. I make him wait while I misunderstand the change-request and cock it up and have to redo it when I get home anyway.

I got there eventually - an hour late to pick Nick up but he said he'd got lots of work done - which is a good thing on one hand, but a bad thing given the fact it was his day off.

We had a blustery Auckland waterfront day, which included Kelly Tarltons and seafood for lunch and the longest trip to the airport ev0r - due mostly to me being tired and my car's autopilot needing a nap.

I was struck again by how Auckland is very commerce and retail focused. As we drove through [far too many] suburbs to get to the Airport, I realised why I'd had so much trouble trying to think of something fun to do on a Friday. Auckland's pretty useless if you don't want to shop. Ok, there's the Museum and the Zoo, Motat and Kelly Tarltons, Rainbow's End and The Botanical Gardens down in Manurewa. but that's about it really. Well Ok, with hindsight there's the indoor snowboarding place, and the bungee off the Sky Tower or the Harbour Bridge and a bunch of other stuff that costs money - but for just doing something fun and on-the-cheap there's not a lot going on for midweek skiving off. If you don't want to shop, there's not a lot to do. I am not sure Aucklanders realise the Mall isn't a recreational outting.

Admission

Okay!

This has been brewing all day and yes, okay, I will finally say it _out_loud_ and damn the consequences.

Last night, I dreamed - for an entire full-length, technicolour, cast-of-thousands dream complete with dishes, wife and children - that I was MiramarMike.

(i'm almost tempted to not allow comments on this post)

FQ TOPIC: Romance

FQ1: What music puts you in the mood for romance?

FQ2: Where is the perfect place for romancing someone?

FQ3: What kind of foods get you feeling romantic?

Look at this FridayQ.. what the? I can't do this. can you? Help me out here - leave a comment with your answers.

FQ LOVER: How would somebody go about winning your heart?

By being intelligent, charming, goofy and um.. god I don't know. Drawing hearts [for me] on a post-it'd do it. But that makes me sound easy and I have a funny feeling I'm not.

I'm about as romantic as a .. thing that's not very romantic.

Bloody blogging - who invented this *anyway*

Generation Gap

*watching Attack of the Clones*

David: Anakin is Darth Vader, you know.
Greg: But, how does he turn to the Dark Side?
David: Daddd.. don't you know anything.. fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate and hate leads to suffering.. Suffering leads to the _Dark_ Side.
Michelle: So everyone having to suffer through this movie will turn any moment now.

How much wood can a woodchuck chuck...

I've been trying to gather my thoughts into a blog-post but been having trouble doing that. I have managed to gather them into bundles - some related, some not - so I've grabbed some bullets and just going to throw them on here Pollock-style and see what happens.
• I've banished excessive white-space from the 'jar forever - actually, Rosie did. Ages ago she sent me a spell from Moveable Type Book of Magic Potions and I thought i'd used it, but obviously hadn't because I looked at the template yesterday and it wasn't there. So I actually *put* the snippet which tells the page to hang on to a certain number of posts on the front page and it worked (as things tend to do when you *actually* use them) So, no more worrying that your browser's not displaying the sterling content of thejamjar.

• I've been talking to a company about working with them - maybe this is really a "rosie list" because the job [name of corporate] are talking to me about would be so *perfect* for Rosie that if her circumstances were different [ie: she wasn't half way up Mt Everest on her 5th successful ascent] she's snap this job up in a flash or rather, they'd snap *her* up in a flash. But lucky for me, they don't know Rosie so I seem quite attractive to them in this instance. I've had two interviews [for want of a different word] and I'm waiting to hear whether they're going to let me loose within their organisation. I'll keep you informed.

• I've got a dishwasher. Not that there's much to say about that - everyone knows about dishwashers. I unloaded it this morning and all my dishes were sparkley clean and my bench is clean and clear. It's wonderful to have a dishwasher again after over 5 years without one.

• I've been asked to teach another nightschool class. Last term I taught Digital Photo Enhancement using Photoshop Elements. I'm going to that again this term and probably, for the rest of the year. The College has 7 students enroled in the Website Design for Beginners (Tuesday nights) and they've asked if I could teach that 5 week course as their regularly scheduled tutor can't. So, I thought that sounded like it could be fun, although it's possible madness considering I'm on the brink of a new and very challenging job (fingers crossed) I already teach another night during the week, plus a few clients who like to give me work in my capacity as a Freelance Designer not to mention my secret squirrel activities [which i'm not going to mention here] and don't forget about lovers, family and friends. I guess I'm a bit of a busy squirrel at the moment which probably means lots of blogging and ranting because that's how it works.

Communication with teenagers

David: I've been pondering..
Me: hmm?
David: Have you ever noticed how frisbees get larger the longer you look at them? then it hit me.. oh.. see that boy over there *points to boy leaving karate* he's only 11 and he's got a brown belt.
Me: Well, maybe he should wash it then.
David: ...
Me: see how I made it sound like his belt was brown because it was dirty?
David: You say the most ridiculous things, I'm not going to talk to you _any_more_

Low Budget Movie

FQ TOPIC: Weather

FQ1: What's an ideal day for you when it's sunny and blue skies?

We're lucky here in New Zealand for lots of reasons, not the least of which is we are never far from water. I don't think there's anything nicer than being near a large body of it on such a large blue sunny day. Here in Auckland, we have the Manukau Harbour (via Tamaki River in my case) and there are very few days in a year that people aren't out on it.

Clusters of tiny little classed yachts; larger matching yachts all racing to a bouy and back again. Kite surfers, wind surfers, kyakers. When it's fine and sunny and warm in Auckland, it's waterways are alive with activity and craft. The sandy edges of the water teeming with families and colourful swimsuits and towels, shade huts and rash shirts.

For all I complain about Auckland not having *real* beaches, we're bloody lucky to have what we have available in such numbers and close proximity that we can just potter on down there whenever we feel like it.

Spoilt, that's what you are Michelle: spoilt!

FQ2: What's an ideal day for you when it's overcast and rainy?

My favourite kind of day is when the overcast skies rain themselves down on a Sunday. Especially if my house is tidy and all my chores are done. The gas heating and wearing socks on my feet makes the house feel snug and comforting and a perfect day for reading and daydreaming which is, afterall, what life is all about.

FQ3: What's an ideal day for you when it's cold and snowy?

I live in Auckland - we don't *do* cold AND snowy. You need to find someone from Christchurch or further South for that answer.

I've only been in the snow a couple of times in my life and only once when it was *actually* snowing. That was when i was in Holland and I was lucky enough to have it snow while I was there. Never experienced it before then. Before then it was only when I went up Mt Ruapehu for what people laughingly call "skiing" weekends but ended up being "losing-chairlift-passes, falling-over and crying-a-lot" weekends for me.

God I hated it. *hated* it. I wonder how I'd find it now? Now I'm older and more able to dress warmly?

I'd probably hate it.

FQ FORECAST: What's the weather forecast for your area this coming weekend? What will you be doing out there in it?

050587

Tonight, 18 years ago, I was having twinges - not big ones but enough so I thought I'd better leave Simon at his grandparents place for the evening. I took a photo of him - beautiful boy with big blue eyes, soft blonde curls - about to become a brother.

Tonight, 18 years ago, I drove my car home. I didn't want to because the twinges were getting stronger, but somehow I was talked into driving my own car home by myself. Greg drove his own car home - he'd come to his parents' place later than I had. I had to stop at the gas station for petrol on the way - I had three relatively strong contractions while I filled my car - I leaned against the pump and breathed through them. I drove the rest of the way and made it home safely.

Tonight, 18 years ago, I'd phoned the hospital when I got home and told them how I was feeling, they thought I should come in. Greg was already in bed and asleep. I tried a number of times to leave for the hospital but Greg was hard to wake - which, now I think about it, was unusual because normally he's a painfully light sleeper. But we didn't leave the house until 1am.

Tonight, 18 years ago, I was having strong, painful contractions in the passenger-seat of Greg's car as he drove towards National Womens' Hospital. I was urging him to drive faster, to go through red lights - there was hardly any traffic. He felt reluctant to do so and it seemed he drove sedately to the Maturnity Entrance of the hospital.

Tonight, 18 years ago, I was crippled by the waves of contractions in the carpark of the hospital. I nearly didn't make it to the door I could barely walk. The Duty Nurse was grumpy with me because I had phoned her over 3 hours before when they'd told me to come in and had taken this long to get there.

Tonight, 18 years ago, by the time they got me up onto the examining table, I was in transition. I was shaking and cold. The contractions weren't 3 minutes apart or 2 minutes part or 1 minute apart like they say in the books.. there was only one contraction and it was endless.

Tonight, 18 years ago, my daughter was born at 1:47am before the doctor could arrive. She came so fast she had red racing stripes down her face. She was born quickly and striped with red over blue. She took a heartbeat or two to breathe but she managed it.

Tonight, 18 years after she was born, she is out. Out of me and out of the house. Out with her friends for her birthday. Tomorrow night she is out with *different* friends for her birthday. Saturday night she is out with *all* of those friends for her birthday party. She said, if she's not *too* hungover on Sunday, she will try to find time to have dinner with us for her birthday, but she's not promising anything. She told me this over coffee this afternoon which was nice - both the coffee and the company.

Tonight, 18 years after she was born, I think about how fast those years have gone though at times some of them have not been fast enough. She's still the same little girl in fairy wings and gumboots - no really, she's wearing wings for her birthday party. She's grown and she's beautiful and talented and annoying and popular and neglectful and wonderful and a pain-in-the-arse and I love her.

Happy Birthday Amy.

Some content my offend

Me: This Blackstrap Mollasses says "may have mild laxative effect".. I'll tell you what.. there's nothing mild about it.
Greg and David: ...
Me: And I'll tell you something else for nothing..my iron tablets colour that mild laxative effect dark forest green!
Greg and David:...
Me: yes, sucks trying to treat low Iron count letmetellyou!
Greg: I think you're not keeping enough *in*. Maybe you need a butt plug.
David: I think you're letting too much *out*...maybe you need a *mouth* plug!

Growing Pains

Lying in bed. Tucked in with a firm hand and a "Go to sleep", the blankets hold me tight against the sheets slowly warming to my body heat. I lift my head and look down my body's bump under the bedspread. The candlewick has bald patches where I've pulled at the tuffs of soft white cotton earning me numerous stinging slaps on the legs for my plucking obssession. I look and wish my feet could touch the end of the bed. As it is, illuminated by the hall light keeping boogy monsters out of my room, I see they barely reach half way. I point my toes, stretching and willing them with all my might to reach the far end of my bed. I fall back into my pillow and believe I will *never* grow up enough for my feet to ever reach the end of the blankets.

I slip from my bed. My bare feet soundless on my bedroom rug and into the hallway. I'm used to moving silently around the house when I'm supposed to be in bed. I hear the muffled sounds of the television behind the closed door of the lounge. Sometimes I sneak into the laundry. I like to sit in the basket piled high with the day's laundry. It always smells like sunshine and summer and I can sit there in the near-dark for hours, just thinking about things. It's perfectly safe there, boogy monsters don't come into the laundry. Sometimes I go into the toilet. I can turn the light on and shut the door and have the room to myself for ages - plus if I get caught I can say I had had to "go". I don't do that in the toilet at night though, what I do is press my hands and feet to the opposite walls and push. Making tiny movements with feet and hands, I can slowly creep up and away from the floor. The ceiling is a million miles above me, but my goal is to reach it one day - so far I can get high enough that it stings my feet when I jump down. But tonight I go into the bathroom. The cold linolium is a shock to my warm feet but at least it's light enough in there, once my eyes adjust, to see without turning the light on.

The scales in the bathroom are pink and chrome. Sometimes I'm in the bathroom to play with the Gilette shaving razor blades because it's fun to slide them out of the packet though I always cut myself trying to get them back inside the dispenser and it gets me into trouble. I stand on the heavy metal scales and the dial rockets into action. It spins past my weight, then dials back the opposite way, past my weight and below. Slowly the dial settles very near the number that indicates how heavy I am. I look down. My bare feet on the cool pink metal surface of the scales. I don't like the number I see. I hunch down, pressing myself harder onto the scales, trying to make that number increase. Adding one, two increments? Hunching down trying to make myself a heavy lump. I jump up and land heavily on the scales sending the dial spinning again but when it settles it's still sitting very near the 3. 3!! how can it say 3 when I'm so much older than that. I get off and go back outside convinced I'm never, ever going to grow up.