Turns out I didn't just pull a muscle after all. No, not dramatic enough for me.
Today it hurt a lot more. Thought we'd take Small to the park so I could walk it off but couldn't stand up straight, Small was trying to hold my hand and I was almost in tears with the pain of reaching down to him too. I was genuinely starting to think I'd broken a rib somehow, except you can't break a rib *somehow* if you break it then you kind of know at the time. Also, no bruises so it wasn't like Big had been chloroforming me in the night and using me for kick boxing practice either. But still, ow. Less than five minutes in the park and I asked Big to drop me off at A&E then take Small back to the park on his own while I waited.
There's this question they ask, I'm sure you've heard of it if you haven't been in a position to be asked it yourself - "on a scale of 1-10, how would you rate the pain?"
Well, excuse me but I'm not a masochist, I don't have the wide enough experience of levels of pain with which to have them sorted into a neat grading system. It hurts like a bastard though. I settled on 7. I'd rate giving birth to Small about a 7 too, so I hope I never experience 8-10. They gave me codeine, which at least sorted out my sore throat. Actually no, I just thought it hadn't done much good until half an hour ago when it started to wear off. I'm looking forward to the next little pill of joy now. After being thoroughly checked over and having a collapsed lung ruled out and also a broken rib for the same reasons I mentioned above, they decided I've pulled, stretched or torn the cartilage between my lower ribs on one side. I got a script for more codeine, advised to do some self-physiotherapy and to watch out for coughing anything up along with a range of options for who to call to depending on colour of said expectorant. Lovely.
Little trooper that I am, I'll be going into work tomorrow, probably in a corset to keep the ribs supported. It's times like these my alternative wardrobe comes in damn handy.
Monday, 7 May 2012
Sunday, 6 May 2012
Why I Can't Rest
I could have spent today in bed. I'm still fighting off a cold after a month and I've pulled a muscle coughing and Big was kind enough to tell me to stay in bed and rest. He brought me breakfast, he did some housework even. I'm no good at it though. By 11am I'd exhausted my patience for reading, I'd all caught up on FB and Twitter and every stray hair had been meticulously removed from my eyebrows.
I was thinking of how the hoovering needed doing, how Small was probably still in his pj's, how many other tiny matters of no real consequence were happening contrary to my satisfaction and took the first available excuse to get up and dressed and start at least Supervising.
I can't stress enough that the offer to stay in bed while Big got up and did house stuff is rare to the point of extinction. One of the things that really gets my goat in an 'I love you forever and with all my soul but if you don't QUIT IT right now I may embed this pen in your eye' way is how Big is either apparently blind to the many daily chores that require doing or just assumes that they somehow don't apply to him. You can point them out to him and so long as you don't suggest more than one chore to be done in a day and aren't too worried which day in the next thirty or so he does it, it will be done. I can get really cross about that. Cross to the point where I work myself into a right state over being taken for granted and sob sob, how my health is affected.
But here's the sad truth.
I can't rest. I get bored, I get restless, I get really, really concerned about either a) that necessary chores won't be done or b) that they won't be done right. I may complain about Big and the housework, but it's worth pointing out that he puts up with a lot of complaining despite knowing that he's essentially going to lose whatever he does because I'm a bit of a control freak.
I'm much happier pottering around getting stuff done a bit at a time, resting inbetween and directing Big to the odd task as I go. It's even likely that in some subconscious way I'm happier doing all these things while grumping that I have to. The mere fact that Big has so far resisted the temptation to whack me over the head with the Dyson and shove me under the patio is testament to the truth of the situation.
We're a team. this is how we roll.
I was thinking of how the hoovering needed doing, how Small was probably still in his pj's, how many other tiny matters of no real consequence were happening contrary to my satisfaction and took the first available excuse to get up and dressed and start at least Supervising.
I can't stress enough that the offer to stay in bed while Big got up and did house stuff is rare to the point of extinction. One of the things that really gets my goat in an 'I love you forever and with all my soul but if you don't QUIT IT right now I may embed this pen in your eye' way is how Big is either apparently blind to the many daily chores that require doing or just assumes that they somehow don't apply to him. You can point them out to him and so long as you don't suggest more than one chore to be done in a day and aren't too worried which day in the next thirty or so he does it, it will be done. I can get really cross about that. Cross to the point where I work myself into a right state over being taken for granted and sob sob, how my health is affected.
But here's the sad truth.
I can't rest. I get bored, I get restless, I get really, really concerned about either a) that necessary chores won't be done or b) that they won't be done right. I may complain about Big and the housework, but it's worth pointing out that he puts up with a lot of complaining despite knowing that he's essentially going to lose whatever he does because I'm a bit of a control freak.
I'm much happier pottering around getting stuff done a bit at a time, resting inbetween and directing Big to the odd task as I go. It's even likely that in some subconscious way I'm happier doing all these things while grumping that I have to. The mere fact that Big has so far resisted the temptation to whack me over the head with the Dyson and shove me under the patio is testament to the truth of the situation.
We're a team. this is how we roll.
Saturday, 5 May 2012
Give it away, give it away, give it away now
Until a month ago, I had a teeny tiny business selling the jewellery I made. It became clear very early on that I could either take a huge risk and go all out, put all my time, money and energy into making it a proper income, or I could keep it small, do what I could in my spare time and see where it went. At the time I was living a number of very huge risks and while they all worked out quite well, I decided I wasn't going to push my luck. After 5 years of pottering, slow but regular sales and the odd commission that was challenging and interesting, I had Small. Priorities shifted and not long before his second birthday I decided this would be my last financial year running the website, finding the time and struggling with the tax returns.
I'm left with a few bits and pieces of stock, mostly things I had made up for selling on the stalls I occasionally ran at fairs. Bit by bit, I'm giving them away. Like just about everyone else at the moment, our beloved Government excepted, we don't have a lot of spare cash around to send presents out so I'm lucky to have a reserve of things I can use for this because it's nice. It was always nice to sell stuff, the price I sold at rarely covered the cost of materials+p&p+effort so I can't say the money came in handy but the knowledge that people thought something I'd made was worth paying for was a boost. I have to say though, it's much nicer to just stick something in the post to a friend or acquaintance and brighten a day, even in the smallest way.
I always knew I wasn't cut out for the severe world of business :D
I'm left with a few bits and pieces of stock, mostly things I had made up for selling on the stalls I occasionally ran at fairs. Bit by bit, I'm giving them away. Like just about everyone else at the moment, our beloved Government excepted, we don't have a lot of spare cash around to send presents out so I'm lucky to have a reserve of things I can use for this because it's nice. It was always nice to sell stuff, the price I sold at rarely covered the cost of materials+p&p+effort so I can't say the money came in handy but the knowledge that people thought something I'd made was worth paying for was a boost. I have to say though, it's much nicer to just stick something in the post to a friend or acquaintance and brighten a day, even in the smallest way.
I always knew I wasn't cut out for the severe world of business :D
Friday, 4 May 2012
May The Fourth Be With You
Seems like a good day to talk geekery. Especially as it's also Free Comic Book Day tomorrow.
I'm a bit of a geek. Just a bit. I'm married to a proper, full time, in the bone geek so I know I only class as a bit of one. Star Wars (4-6), Star Trek (Classic), Red Dwarf, Firefly, Buffy, Zombies, Joss Whedon, comic books, Terry Pratchett, pretty much anything Simon Pegg has ever done... I love it all.
I don't have the talent for information retention that Big does so I might struggle to recall who did the pencilling on the Preacher series or who the Key Grip for Empire Strikes Back was but I'm not bad for a girl. Other girls into geek stuff are not especially rare but they're not so abundant to be found by the indiscriminate heaving of a half-brick. It makes it hard to break the ice with other women when I have no frame of reference for their interests (be it reality tv, reality tv celebs, soaps or whatever.... I don't mean that to sound the way it probably does) and they have no frame of reference to mine. Also you often get a moment where when you say you don't take an interest in those things you're either dismissed as weird or worse, that you're looking down on them. I'm not. It's true that I would far prefer to remove my toenails with a pair of rusty pliers than watch a soap opera these days but I've watched them in the past. I don't mind if anyone else wants to watch them, so long as they don't think they're an accurate representation of normal life or a model for interpersonal relationships. Reality shows? X-Factor? So long as you understand they're about as real as a £3 note and you enjoy them, completely fine, just don't ask me to watch them. Sadly though, common ground is important for chit chat so I don't have a lot of female friends and those I might make with non-geek affiliated women don't tend, historically to last long on the whole.
Tonight we're watching Cowboys And Aliens. We've been watching a lot of superhero movies lately so it'll make a nice change. I like Marvel superheros, but I don't read them. I don't like DC much at all but there are a few exceptions, mostly well outside the superhero remit. I don't read superheroes, rightly or wrongly, because I don't have enough lifetime to read the whole back catalogue going back 60, 70 years plus and because I am a geek, I would want to. But I like the films. I like what Marvel Studios does. We went to see The Avengers last week and loved it so much, even if I didn't know Black Widow and Hawkeye as well as Big does. It was fab, really. Hulk Smash.
And just as I was writing this, Big informed me of this article - http://news.moviefone.com/2012/05/01/girls-guide-to-the-avengers_n_1467480.html
That is the kind of thing I'm talking about above. They've come back and tried to say it's a satire but I'm not sure who it's supposed to be a satire against. Is it a satire against the Bridget Jones girls? Saying they're so dumb they need extra help to understand a movie that's already written to convey it's plot to the uninitiated? Or is it a satire against us geeky girls, presenting us as believing the Bridget Jones fans are that dumb? That we're that bitchy and superior? Or worse, that we're some kind of statistical anomaly, because proper girls would need this article? What is a proper girl Moviefone? How should we behave? Any which way it misses the important factor of a satire - humour. It's just plain insulting to anyone who happens across it, regardless of how it was supposedly intended.
Bah, I'm missing my movie with all this ranting, and Daniel Craig is beating up a lot of people.
I'm a bit of a geek. Just a bit. I'm married to a proper, full time, in the bone geek so I know I only class as a bit of one. Star Wars (4-6), Star Trek (Classic), Red Dwarf, Firefly, Buffy, Zombies, Joss Whedon, comic books, Terry Pratchett, pretty much anything Simon Pegg has ever done... I love it all.
I don't have the talent for information retention that Big does so I might struggle to recall who did the pencilling on the Preacher series or who the Key Grip for Empire Strikes Back was but I'm not bad for a girl. Other girls into geek stuff are not especially rare but they're not so abundant to be found by the indiscriminate heaving of a half-brick. It makes it hard to break the ice with other women when I have no frame of reference for their interests (be it reality tv, reality tv celebs, soaps or whatever.... I don't mean that to sound the way it probably does) and they have no frame of reference to mine. Also you often get a moment where when you say you don't take an interest in those things you're either dismissed as weird or worse, that you're looking down on them. I'm not. It's true that I would far prefer to remove my toenails with a pair of rusty pliers than watch a soap opera these days but I've watched them in the past. I don't mind if anyone else wants to watch them, so long as they don't think they're an accurate representation of normal life or a model for interpersonal relationships. Reality shows? X-Factor? So long as you understand they're about as real as a £3 note and you enjoy them, completely fine, just don't ask me to watch them. Sadly though, common ground is important for chit chat so I don't have a lot of female friends and those I might make with non-geek affiliated women don't tend, historically to last long on the whole.
Tonight we're watching Cowboys And Aliens. We've been watching a lot of superhero movies lately so it'll make a nice change. I like Marvel superheros, but I don't read them. I don't like DC much at all but there are a few exceptions, mostly well outside the superhero remit. I don't read superheroes, rightly or wrongly, because I don't have enough lifetime to read the whole back catalogue going back 60, 70 years plus and because I am a geek, I would want to. But I like the films. I like what Marvel Studios does. We went to see The Avengers last week and loved it so much, even if I didn't know Black Widow and Hawkeye as well as Big does. It was fab, really. Hulk Smash.
And just as I was writing this, Big informed me of this article - http://news.moviefone.com/2012/05/01/girls-guide-to-the-avengers_n_1467480.html
That is the kind of thing I'm talking about above. They've come back and tried to say it's a satire but I'm not sure who it's supposed to be a satire against. Is it a satire against the Bridget Jones girls? Saying they're so dumb they need extra help to understand a movie that's already written to convey it's plot to the uninitiated? Or is it a satire against us geeky girls, presenting us as believing the Bridget Jones fans are that dumb? That we're that bitchy and superior? Or worse, that we're some kind of statistical anomaly, because proper girls would need this article? What is a proper girl Moviefone? How should we behave? Any which way it misses the important factor of a satire - humour. It's just plain insulting to anyone who happens across it, regardless of how it was supposedly intended.
Bah, I'm missing my movie with all this ranting, and Daniel Craig is beating up a lot of people.
Tuesday, 1 May 2012
Please leave a message after the beep.
Wednesdays and Thursdays I have to work. It does not leave me a lot of time or energy to think of things to say to bore you. So here, enjoy a funny picture.
My boy
Oh yes, I know. Everyone says that about their kid. But he's an absolute delight. I love this age, I know people say Terrible Twos but it's not bad. Yes there's tantrums over the most trivial things but you get them for the same reason you get pure, unadulterated, unselfconscious joy at just as trivial things. Because they're not trivial to him. Sure it's exasperating when I'm tired and sore and fed up and he's face down on the kitchen floor sobbing his heart out because I won't let him play with the sharp knives and yes my temper will fray and I may well insist Big just takes Small out of my way NOW. That's because I'm human, not that I feel much better for it at the time. But the endless entertainment opportunities offered by a cardboard tube, by a tin and a spoon, by a strand of spaghetti... I wouldn't trade them to never see another tantrum. When was the last time your life was made complete by being entrusted with carrying a birthday card to the post box and posting it? In Small's world, today. He's also discovered the concept of hide and seek, which to him means turning around to face away from you and screeching "HIDING" until you start to count. Then mad giggles when you reach ten and yell "FOUND YOU" Tonight, he ducked down in the bath and hid there.
He's a Daddy's boy. When Daddy is home Mummy is old news, this hurts. At 3am though, only Mummy will do and for some reason I am not comforted by this, I'm probably too tired and too jealous of my soundly snoring Big to be comforted. He's not a cuddly boy unless he's poorly or coming round from a nap and only kisses goodbye, not just for kisses sake. The only time he's expressed the emotion of love was when he got a ride-on digger but it all just makes the few kisses and cuddles I am gifted all the more precious.
He apologises to strangers in the street for getting in their way. He says 'not so bad' when asked how he is and 'yesi'mfine' when asked if he's ok. He smiles all the time, unless there's a camera pointing at him, he helps with the washing up, he yells TUUUUNE when he hears ZZ Top or Metallica on the radio. I honestly can't think what I did with my life before he came into it, but it probably wasn't worth it.
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