A Life Most Perfect

We should probably begin at the beginning, before the 11th August 2004.

Prior to this said date, my life was perfect.

Nice house, happy family (two well behaved girls), lovely husband, good jobs, great friends.

Now bear with me here - incase you have a little vomit in your mouth at this point, it's ok, so do I. ;-)

I was one of those girls who took life rather seriously.  Martha Stuart Style.    Life was colour coordinated, organised and rather rigid.  But matching serviettes and plates are important - right?

To be totally honest, I'm not sure it was simply to look good in the eyes of others - it was more of a need to be in control.  Life and family had to look a certain way, and come hell or high water I would keep it so!  I was brought up a Baptist girl after all, and whilst the religion had waned in my life, old values are very hard to let go of.

In hind site, I was rather like a bird, flying about in circles, with it's head up it's own arse.  Oblivious to the fact that eventually and spectacularly I was destined to crash to earth!

Did I see it coming?  No!
Was I totally astonished?  Yes!

Was it the total making of me?  Absolutely!

Thank goodness!

Stay tuned!
Katie

Where are the Undies when you NEED THEM?? Part One

Part one? - there's bound to be more parts. . . . .

For the story of how the undies came into being, click here!

So last week I could have seriously done with the undies.

On Thursday, youngest child Miss E - aged 12 comes to me at 5am (what the??) with a tummy ache.  Congenial I am not at 5am.  12 hours earlier I had picked her up from school camp.  Her words as she got in the car were, "I'm tired" and "I've eaten too many lollies".  So you know what came out of my mouth at 5am . . . . . .

You've eaten too many lollies!

Popped her in bed with me, rolled over . . . . 

As the morning wears on, she's continuing to complain - you may think I'm harsh, but she's a third child, and there's little I have not heard.  However, when she says, "stay with me" i.e: in the room, a small alarm bell in my head rings and I call the Dr.  

Bless Dr D's receptionist, she gets us straight in.  He has a prod and says, "go to hospital, I think it's her appendix."

Crap - a morning in A&E, I have things to do, she's not that bad. . . . 

At this point, I should have popped past home, whipped out the WW undies, layered on extra deoderant and grabbed a hip flask of whiskey a book.  But I don't, she's ok(?), constipated(?) with a belly full of lollies.

She's not ok, within couple of hours she is grey and incoherent.  To diagnose an appendicitis it's an ultra sound.  Remember those ultra sounds on a full pregnant bladders???  Pressing on a dodgy appendix looks even less appealing.  Even though she is full of big gun pain killers she's in agony and I as her mother have to hold her hand and encourage her to keep still .  .   .   .  .

It's perforating and she's going straight to surgery.

The true undie moment came when I went with her into theatre, held her hand as they put her under, and kissed her good bye.

That was the moment.

The moment when the wild irrational fear voice in your head goes bonkers. 

The moment you get the sooks, because you are a single parent and you feel alone* and scared.

The moment passed, I remembered to breathe, told the irrational voice to piss off, remembered that my life is blessed, I have weathered many storms.

At 2am, she woke up and asked if I thought she's be well enough for the school disco that night.  We had a little cry together when I told her I didn't think so.  My tears weren't for the disco.  We had a little laugh at the parent staying with the child in the next bed, he was snoring like a trooper!  

My girl was back, all was well in the world, my undie moment ended.

Katie

*note: her Dad was there, but I was having an irrational desire to smack him in the back of the head

The Beginning of My Grand Adventure

This story begins on a winters night.   A Wednesday,  11th August 2004.  It fascinates me that I remember the date.  I'm not someone who normally remembers such detail, but this one is etched into my brain like acid on glass.

Two days before Dad's birthday.

About 9:30pm.

I rolled my 38 week pregnant self over - a feat within itself, and asked a question,

"Are you ok?"

It was a weird feeling asking.  I'd been pondering the question for a few minutes, actually thats a lie, I knew the question had to be asked for a few days, but I am a gifted procrastinator of biblical proportions!

I knew I didn't have to ask.

I knew that though my life was perfect* there was no going back from the answer.

The answer astonished me.  No, ASTONISHED me.

And there ended my marriage.

Katie

*my perfect life will be a future post, such perfection needs to be expanded upon! ;-)