Today I Spent My Birthday… having a strange man guddling in my lady-bits. More on that later.
I’ve been awake most of my birthday. Lucky me! I went to bed after midnight, then was woken by my thoughtful youngest at 1am and 4ish, because she didn’t want to sleep in her own bed. The deprivation! Around 7am, Midi and Maxi brought in 2 sheets of writing they’d carefully and colourfully written, and sang me the songs they’d each made up. Ah, such a sweet thing for them to do! My heart burst, but my ears really needed my morning coffee first. Mini brought me 3 special family portraits she’d drawn. I think in honour of me, she’d given everyone purple hair. Bless! I unwrapped my present before The Boss left for work – a sleek, shiny, silver-coloured CD-player / amp / DAB radio. Argh! It’s so dinky I could just die! And the sound… Wow, wow, wow! I’ve been relying on dodgy radios and the car CD player for far, far too long. I’d forgotten that music actually has depth: bass lines as well as tinny treble.
I had Midi Minx home with me and Mini this morning – school had sent her home yesterday with abdominal pain and a hot, itchy forehead rash. Well, they did when they finally got hold of me! There’s no / limited mobile signal in the village, so when the school had called my mobile at 11am and left a message asking me to come pick up Midi and take her home, well, I didn’t get it. I didn’t hear them call the landline, and no message was left. At 1230 hrs I’d left the house to take Mini to a playdate. At 1330 hrs, school had tried the mobile again. At 1345 hrs, they called the house where we were at the playdate. Imagine my surprise to find that the call was for me… How had they tracked me down?! Impressive! And mortifying. And worrying. Emergency phone numbers are now updated!
Actually, yesterday was evidence of my progress towards being a less clingy mum: I’d left Mini with the kind mum who’d invited us over when I went to get Midi. Well, Mini had been having a lovely time, and had piped up: “I don’t want to go with you, Mummy!”, pushing my face away from hers by boinking me on the nose. Riiiiight! Although I’m happy and proud to see her independent self-confidence, I’m still haunted by the preceding 3 years of extreme clinginess. God, the evidence of that clinginess is all over most early posts of this blog! The same lovely mum dropped Mini back at home at school hometime, and even picked up Maxi from the school for me so that Midi hadn’t had to leave the house. I felt very humbled by her thoughtfulness.
So. Back to 20th. Midi was at home with us, wrapped in a fleece blanket in front of the TV, with Mini snuggled beside her, trying to win some sympathy points from me too. My friend visited and the girls happily drew on an activity book she’d brought them while we talked. Ha! That was the only time that day that I sat down and relaxed…
Midi had a GP appointment at 1110 hrs, and after lots of quizzing yesterday I’d made a mummy-guess-diagnosis of a possible UTI. So all morning I’d made sure she’d drank lots of water. I tried to get a sample of wee from 1030 hrs, 3 hours after the last time she’d gone to the toilet. Nope. I tried reassurance. No. I tried silence. Non. I tried turning on a tap for the sound of flowing water. Nothing. I tried dribbling water from a jug over her vulva. Nowt. The poor wee thing had real performance anxiety! I gave up at 1100hrs and chased off to the GP’s surgery. We tried again after another flask of water in the car. No.
The GP was very thorough, but couldn’t really conclude anything. The lack of peeing went against UTI. The rash didn’t really link with anything. I’d given Midi Piriton this morning when her left eye had puffed up. There was nothing obvious giving her a rash. No new animal or obvious allergen exposure. No fever. No sore throat. No raised glands. Just a funny itchy head, intermittent ab pain by her left bottom ribs and burning when she peed.
Luckily, I had 3 more trips to make that day past the surgery, so could take that bloomin’ pee sample in our own sweet time and hand it in later (I did. It looked clear and normal. I didn’t hear back so it must have been fine).
We drove home, had just enough time to have some soup for lunch, then back into town (yep, same one that the GPs surgery was in) to drop Mini off at nursery. Back home. Half an hour to clean up and fretfully hoover a bit, then back to the GPs to go have a coil fitted.
I’ve never had one before, and only agreed to it because my periods are so heavy that it’s been affecting my life for a few years (leaking after 90 minutes on the Uber-Mega-Massive-Nelly-the-Elephant sized tampon for 1 or 2 days out of every 24, and not being, em, well, dry for more than 3 days in every 24. And having to take iron tablets for more months of the year than not. Rubbish, eh?). So why now? Well, I’d gotten so iron-deficient recently that I was having palpitations, struggling to breathe after even minor exertion, freezing cold literally all the time, toes and feet turning greeny-black for a few minutes when I got in the bath to heat up a bit, pins and needles most of the time, bad brain fog, blah, blah, blah. So it had to be worth a try to see if getting the coil (Mirena) would help a bit, eh?
Anyway. I was a bit apprehensive about lying semi-naked in front of 2 strangers, one of whom would be rummaging around inside me. Whilst I was still having a period. Gruesome. I was also nervous about whether it would hurt. I’ve had 3 children, but all by caesarean. My cervix only ever managed to dilate to a weedy little 5cm 6 years ago.
So did it hurt? Aye. It did. Fair nipped. The GP and nurse were both very sensitive and kind and really very caring towards me, so I felt a bit of a rotter admitting to them that it bloody hurt. Achy at first, then sharp stings. Just for a few seconds at a time, but on and off for a few minutes. I didn’t cry, but I did swear a bit. I tell you, though, if it stops me bleeding so much it’ll be soooo worth it! Though Lillets might go out of business…
Whilst I was spending my birthday having a rare old time (!), little Midi was quietly sitting in the waiting room colouring in for 15 minutes. What a wee star! I felt fine afterwards so was ready to nip off and do the half-million other jobs I had to do before picking up Mini from nursery in half an hour, but instead just sat and admired Midi’s drawings for a few minutes first. Lovely! It’s the stolen moments like that that really make me happy. That, and the 30 minutes nap I snatched snuggled into Mid’s shoulder on the sofa in front of CBeebies later that afternoon (bliss).
For my birthday tea I made us sausage rolls, ham sandwiches, the obligatory Philadelphia sandwiches (no-one likes them, but it wouldn’t be a party tea without them curling up uneaten in the corner), veg sticks and home-made houmus, tzatziki and tomato salsa, hula hoops, ginger beer (aye – lashings of it) and some fruit kebabs that The Boss made. …damn, I just realised that we forgot to eat the Party Ring biscuits. Argh!… The kids and The Boss had made me a lovely lemon drizzle cake last night, and it was delicious. Maxi doesn’t know that, though – she didn’t get any:
Normally after the Birthday Boy or Girl blows out their candles, we sing Happy Unbirthday to everyone else in turn and let them blow out the relit candles. At Maxi’s turn, instead of blowing out the candles, she kind of huffed / coughed over them. Trying to be funny. The Boss and I scolded her for being disgusting. Cue instant hysteria from our eldest. She wailed. She howled. “You always, always tell me off for everything!” she exaggerated. She wailed as loudly as she could and generally stropped about. “Thanks for spoiling my birthday”, I sniped, pettily, as her sisters joined in with very brattish Give-Me-That-Big-Slice-Now-No-That’s-Not-Big-Enough-Aaaaaarggggh!-It’s-So-Unfair. Maxi was sent to her room till she was ready to apologise or at least feel a bit calmer, while I magically stopped the others’ bratty behaviour in its tracks and pretended nothing had happened. Midi and Mini ate their cake, giggled, had a laugh, then toddled off to get ready for bed. All the while Maxi wailed, “Everyone hates me! No-one understands me! It’s so unfair!”
After maybe my 3rd attempt to get her to listen to why I’d found her coughing over a cake unacceptable behaviour, she stopped squawking long enough for me to speak. I don’t think she actually understood, though. Sheesh, it’s so bloody hard sometimes trying to explain! At 7 I think she should understand why her dad and I had objected to her coughing over others’ shared food. The wee voice in my head reminds me that she probably genuinely doesn’t understand, but it doesn’t stop me getting exasperated sometimes.
Spot the, um, power-tool
So, what high jinx did I get up to the night of my birthday? Helped The Boss build the huge Besta-moth of cabinets in the kitchen. Don’t panic – the blue is just the protective covering. It’s all glossy white. It will hold an entire room worth of clutter. The smaller Billy bookcase in the right of the photo will hold all my sewing stuff. Oh wow, it’s going to be so great to cram everything behind a shut-able door!
Spot the child
And Madam Midi Minx? Oh she’s snoring her little head off, surrounded by a couple of her toys (!) Can you spot her?!