Bumps ‘n’ bellies

abundant, anticipating, enceinte, expectant, expecting, fecund, fertile, fraught, fruitful, gestating, gravid, heavy, hopeful, in family way, parous, parturient, preggers, productive, prolific, replete, teeming, with child

Got it?  Good  So I’m not really one for coming over all one-sided, but I’m dedicating this whole post to my new baby, who is due in September.  If I do it again, I’ll categorise it, as I’m fairly sure some people won’t be interested in my baby-talk, but I’d like a record, and to keep my family up to date with developments.  I was 20 weeks last Thursday, which is five months in most countries, and half-way in all countries I would imagine.  I’ve only just decided to come out to the online world that I’m expecting (although I do love the word “teeming” XD) because I like to keep a lot of things private.  And I kind of want to look back over the past five months with this post.

So at the end of December I started feeling a bit queasy.  Actually quite bloody awful.  Hmm, this is too soon to feel bad, I thought.  Especially seeing as I have never experienced morning sickness before.  But I was exhausted, sick (although never actually vomited, just felt of the edge of it), tender, and had been having really vivid dreams.  Surprised at the speed and the relative severity of my symptoms, I not only knew that I was abundant (yes, I plan on using as many of the above words as possible in this post!), but I was a little fearful, ok, terrified that I was expecting more than one.  When my Mum gave birth to me, in the age before scans were used at all, and it was all very much guesswork what was going on in there, her waters broke twice.  Her waters used to break like mine do, with a huge explosion (and that’s where our birth similarities end, more on that later).  The midwife later told my Mum that there had been two sacks, and “that’s how close you came to having twins”.  I’m not quite sure what happened here.  I know that a lot of births begin as multiples, but don’t end up that way, but I’d never really thought that you would be aware unless you miscarried one of them, hearing that some of them either blend into the other or just kind of melt away in their smallness..so not sure.  Anyway, I always think of twins as running in the family, and although twins always sounds lovely, in reality, I think it would be an absolute nightmare..especially when you already have young children to care for.  So when I had my second scan where baby was clearly visible, I was very grateful that there was only one baby in there.

Unfortunately, the symptoms lasted for a good long while.  I think it might have been about 14 weeks or so?  How frustrating it is to feel so ill, but not really be able to tell people why!  I suppose I could have, but I always think it best to wait until at least ten weeks to let the cat out of the bag to close friends and family.  Plus there seems to be an influx of enceinte mothers in the foreign wives community right now. Not being a sheep at ALL, I was a little worried that people might think I was just jumping on the bandwagon…heaven forbid!!  Oh, and I also got influenza A and was left at home to deal with it and two sick children who were just getting over it, while my husband went out to a drinking party…I was REALLY cross that night…

So then my journey into the second trimester and I have yet to feel all the energy that one is supposed to feel in one’s second trimester.  In fact, knackered is more like it.  I have no energy to be standing in the kitchen preparing a healthy meal, or going around the supermarket for even ten minutes.  I seriously wish that I could do my shopping online like back home.  None of that ridiculous PAL system shopping either, where you have to decide a week in advance what you’re going to want to eat, then pay out of your arse for vegetables that you can get for much cheaper at the supermarket (ok, please remember that I am surrounded by freehold farms here with good cheap produce that I don’t need to go to a farmer’s market for).  Just some good modern online grocery shopping would be great.

Well, I suppose I HAVE been starting to cook a bit more healthily than I was in the first trimester, when instead of cooking, all I felt like doing was drinking spring water and eating white toast.  I am looking on the bright side in that the smell of food cooking no longer makes me gag.  I did think about going raw at one stage, raw and veggie, I suppose they go hand in hand, but I thought that would be miserable in the winter, and I wouldn’t want to impose that on the whole  of my family.  Plus of course the raw food diet is a very costly one.

Ok, where was I?!  Oh yes, my brain is fried..really, I have next to no memory, am feeling hyper disorganised, can’t reverse in the car, can’t focus on more than two things at once.  This is very tough for someone like me, who hates being out of control.  But I AM trying!  Other symptoms include the very unwelcome return of pregnancy depression.  This is very swept under the carpet compared to post-natal depression, but not to be underrated.  I’ve felt very desperate at times, irritated, not wanting to get out of bed, feeling “fat”, etc. etc.  This is depression, and my husband doesn’t understand it.  Thankfully, touch wood, I seem to be doing better these days.  I started pregnancy yoga, relaxation, eating better and trying to get more sleep.  The change in diet didn’t help, especially as I’d worked so hard with the well-woman clinic diet, which as I posted about before, helped my moods greatly.  I like to eat, and feeling sick for over three months was really quite miserable for me.  So I tried to keep away from people, because I hate whingeing, even on my blog!  And now am ready to tell you all about it, because this is not a whiney post

Well, that’s enough rambling.  I’ll leave you with some gravid, heavy, hopeful, prolific bump pics…had to be done, I’m afraid…

This is me at six weeks, starting to get a bit chunkier.  I have NO idea why neither my P.C. nor WordPress will allow me to rotate this..it’s highly annoying.  Anyway, I was still able to fit into my normal clothes, but only ones with a bit of stretch.  I did quickly gain an inch or so in bloat, I suppose it was.

this is my tum at fourteen weeks.  I am not a big fan of this stage.  Just look chubby, and my abs WERE a bit chubby because I had stopped exercising and my muscle was becoming fat..look at that midriff XD

 

This was around fifteen weeks, I think?  I had just come back from work, and wearing a belly band because I suddenly found I couldn’t button up my suit trousers.

This is around eighteen weeks.  I didn’t take any for a while because I got tonsilitis and didn’t really feel that great.  My stomach is still no bigger than my chest, but then my chest is growing too..really no need for that.

This is nineteen weeks.  I was clearing up and caught sight of my profile in the window’s reflection.  Holy bumps!  I thought.  Where did that come from?!?  And severe boobage..I’m thinking with all of the symptoms, including looking and feeling like crap and having terrible skin, that this one could be a girl.  Although my bump IS looking quite basketball like these days.  Care to hazard a guess?  There’s a 50% chance you’ll get it right…

Etiquette

I have sadly decided that I need to make the following statement out of self-respect.  This is due to unwanted attention and/or behaviour.  I am somewhat flattered that some find my thoughts/ideas inspirational, but don’t appreciate them being taken and used for other blogs/sources with no credit.  I am not an ideas board to take from and use my ideas as if they were your own.  I would like this to remain a public blog, but kindly request that credit is given for my ideas if you wish to use them on your own site/platform.

Thank you.

JM

Self-indulgent

I haven’t blogged for ages.  I’ve had lots of ideas, I often find myself doing something mundane, like hanging out the washing and thinking of something that I want to share on here.  I’m not sure anyone would read it, but it’s a kind of therapy, isn’t it?  Writing down your thoughts, sharing them, even in this sense where maybe nobody will reply.

I’m having the hate part of the love/hate internet relationships business.  It seems these days I have most of my friendships, communicate with my old friends and family online.  It’s weird, using only language to communicate with people.  Lots of things get misunderstood, there are not the lovely complexities of communication that we get face to face with people.  The impressions that we get from someone’s presence.  Nobody is really and truly as they seem, because if verbal communication is only 7% of communication, then surely that means with internet friendships we are only seeing 7% of a whole person’s thoughts/ideas.  Even with people that you know in the “real world”.  I miss REAL conversations in person.

And I realised that I rely on the internet too much.  I spend too much time spouting drivel that I really think nobody is all that bothered about.  Sometimes I think it’s the small things that make for good conversation though, just these days, I’m a bit fed up of it.  I can’t say where it started, but things came to pass that I felt a lot of people moan a lot of the time.  Don’t get me wrong, I moan too.  It’s good to moan.  But not all the time.  And not about everything.  Just when you think one moan has been solved, another moan starts and I wonder when people will be happy with what they said they wanted in the first place.  I started thinking about people’s moans and groans and thinking things like, “hey, I’m worse off in that respect, but I don’t moan”.  Then I started feeling a bit sorry for myself and thinking, if they are moaning about that, and my situation is worse, shouldn’t I be moaning and feeling miserable?  And I started feeling a bit irritated and dissatisfied.

So I woke up one morning, wondered what the hell I had to feel miserable about.  I have a secure home, a house, a car, a husband, two children, family, friends, my health.  How dare I get so self-indulgent and wallow in the negative things.  Ok, my husband works all the hours God sends, I don’t have many friends in this area, my in-laws both work full-time, my family live in another country, I can’t seem to follow the career paths I want to because Japan is not my home, and well, my biggest sadness is that I’m not enamoured with this country.  But you know, I have three options,

1.  I could wallow in misery and regret in Japan making everyone in my house miserable.

2.  I could leave my husband and attempt to let him allow me to take our two children with me to the U.K. where I would have no husband, no money, no job and nowhere to live.

3.  I could stop bloody whingeing and start making the best of life instead of moaning about things when I have more than some people could even hope for.

So I have decided to go for option number three.  In a very British way (of course Brits moan and groan, but there is usually a silver lining and I am trying to be an old-school Brit), I will Keep Calm and Carry On.  This means that I am becoming less active in the social networking sense for the moment, because I realised that negativity can spread like wildfire, but hoping to blog when I can.

Seven Years

Seven years ago, I lived in Tokyo.  I had been living there for three and a half years, in a small Leo Palace flat on the outskirts of Fuchu, on the west side.  My flat was next to a railway track and small crossing.  When trains passed, it shook.  Fortunately (?) I had warning of the impending quivering from the alarm-like sound of the level crossing barriers closing.  This went on until just after midnight, and then resumed at oh-too-early-a.m.  I worked in Osaki Head Office for an global English conversation school.  My position was Teacher Trainer/Manager, which was later changed to H.R. Manager, which sounds much more like an actual position, but which I expect still translated to “too many random responsibilities to actually write in a c.v.”  I was in charge of around 100 schools in west Kanto, and about 150 teachers.  It was a hard job.  One that it took me a LONG time to get used to.  I look back on it mostly fondly, but I remember at the time really despising it.  I worked above a team of six substitute teachers (three Japanese and three native English speakers).  It was early summer, and due to hiring shortages overseas, and a teacher suffering from depression having to leave the country before it all got too much, we were short-staffed.  The only thing for me to do was to take one of the teaching jobs until one of the subs. was free, planning and teaching lessons, downsizing the schedule and taking neverending calls from teachers at the same time.  Ugh…

Unfortunately this job was in two schools in Maebashi and Takasaki, Gunma.  Oh how I hated Gunma.  My only experiences were on school visits to Isezaki and Ota.  Both of those times I had been harassed by hostess bar owners at the train station at night.  It seemed scary after the relative safety of Tokyo.  But seeing no other alternative, I packed my bags, and spent a month (yes!  A whole month!) in Gunma, working 11a.m. – 10p.m., then at least another hour or two catching up and doing the bare minimum on my ACTUAL job.  It was NOT fun.  During these times, I was followed about three times by random men.  I am not beautiful or extraordinary looking and at the time I was overweight, so I really have to put it down to my being foreign and wearing a suit…a lot of hostesses in Gunma wear suits.  I have seen them running out of their bars to get cigarettes for their customers from time to time.  So my impression of Gunma didn’t really get all that much better during this time.  I went home to Tokyo at weekends to do laundry, and just to get out of crapville.

During my work at Maebashi school, trying to downsize two teachers into one, I interviewed my husband.  Obviously he wasn’t my husband at the time…I also interviewed his mother.  In retrospect, I think this was fantastic, as I’d already “met the mother-in-law to be” before Y and I had started seeing each other.  When the downsizing was done, I went back to Tokyo, and Y came to visit me most weekends.  Eventually, we decided to rent a flat together in Takasaki (I had originally said I would go no further than Kumagaya as a half-way point..gave up on that one..).  I told my boss that I either wanted to go back to teaching at a nearby school or I was handing in my notice.  I didn’t give him a threatening letter.  I was by no means indispensable.  I got myself an ALT job lined up just in case, so that I had some income back-up, although I’d taught as an ALT in Germany before and hated it..so it was really only something to fall back on.  I wasn’t really prepared to live off my husband at that point, and we weren’t even talking marriage anyway.  Turns out they didn’t want to lose me as a teacher, and there was a teacher at the Kumagaya school that was really pretty awful.  He didn’t get his contract renewed, so I took his place.  It was a forty minute commute paid by the company, which was a BIG difference to the hour and forty minute one including an hour on the bullet train.  I actually had a bullet train monthly pass…It cost me 80,000 for one month…The company paid 30,000 of this, and my direct boss was REALLY angry at a member of H.O. staff for taking this money out of the area budget.  Um…ok.  I felt I was pretty dedicated to be willing to pay 50,000 a month on transport.  Anyway, I did that for a few months.  I earned plenty anyway, so I didn’t see it as a huge waste, but I didn’t want to do it forever, as my job also included visiting schools in my area, so it was pretty tiring including the morning and evening commute.

I worked a year and a half at Kumagaya school, before I left to have H.  I left pretty early on in my pregnancy, because I was just so exhausted in the first trimester.  I was falling asleep on my desk between lessons,etc.  Had I known that this tiredness would pass, I may have worked for longer.  But I was proud of myself, because I managed to double my student number in my time there, although I taught a LOT of childrens classes…so was exhausted most of the time.

A little after I fell pregnant, we decided to move again.  Our place was a twenty minute walk from the train station, a 3LDK (three bedrooms plus living/dining/kitchen).  We didn’t really need all that space, but it only cost 5000 more than my one bedroomed flat in Tokyo, so I think I was just revelling in all the space!  It was also on the third floor (fourth if you think of the ground as being 1F), and being pregnant, it was a bit of a trek all round.

So my third place in Japan was a flat in a block for government employees.  We rented for 11,000 yen and it was a 3DK (two bedrooms, living room, largish kitchen).  It was old, and the bath was stainless steel, square and needed you to turn a dial over and over to turn on the gas pilot.  The floors were all tatami matting and lino, but the storage was fantastic.  A long balcony with two outside storage spaces at each end.  This place was almost two kilometres from the train station, but was a ten minute walk to the supermarket, chemist and bank.  Plus the neighbourhood was decent, and the paediatrician was not only within walking distance, but she also spoke English.  It was while I lived in this apartment that I had H, took driving lessons (in Tokyo every weekend), taught at kindergartens for the first time, had L, and taught private students.  I had gone from working a busy full-time job in a big city to living in what felt like the middle of nowhere, relatively speaking, with a husband and two children all in the space of three years.  I was more than a little stressed.  But things worked themselves out, as they tend to do.  Had we been allowed to live in this flat for an unlimited amount of time, we probably would have until we could afford our own place.  Wow, at 11,000 a month, who wouldn’t?!?!  But five months before our three year maximum stay was up, we went to look at a place near my husband’s mother’s house.  It was nice, new, and the rent was decent.  I suppose we must have been fed up at the old place, I really can’t remember.  I DO remember thinking that it would be nice to live in the town while renting before we decided if we wanted to end up buying there or not.

Moving (again!!) to my fourth place in Japan.  This was a 2LDK terraced apartment with a LOT less storage than we were used to.  I had to do a lot of sorting things out, with a just turned two year old, a four month old baby, and nursing fatigue..the thought of it makes me feel sick.  My husband worked late, my MIL and SIL both worked full-time, so it was a tough time for me.  My fabulous MIL bought me a car (Y had been cycling to work, but with a 40 minute car commute, he obviously couldn’t do that from the new place), which we have yet to repay her for.  That was a HUGE help.  I couldn’t have done without, as the supermarket would have been about 50 minutes walk uphill, and the train station a thirty minute DRIVE, with buses every two hours and stopping at 7p.m. Not that I needed to use the station much, but it feels nice to know you are not literally stuck in the countryside.  Looking back though, the hardest time for the children and I was when we moved there.  H took it hard living on two levels instead of one and even L found it daunting at first.  Add to that L was a “high needs baby”, it was a hard time, but again, we managed to work it out.

Just under two years later, after lots of looking at houses, talking to building companies, researching, we stumbled upon a cul-de-sac of ready built houses.  They were a five minute walk to the local primary school, only crossing a couple of very quiet roads.  In a quiet area, lots of families with young children around.  And they had been standing for a year, so the prices were low.  On the SAME day that we went to look at these houses, we bought one of them.  That sounds really stupid, I will admit, but it was much bigger than most newly built houses, with a small garden, lots of natural light and space, and location to the primary school was unbeatable.  And we managed (MIL managed) to barter like a champion, “oh, 8 is my unlucky number, can we make it 7 (insert cute granny giggle)?” and in less than a month, we had a home.  OUR home.

I am seven years older, fifteen kilos lighter.  My children are now five and three years old.  I have been married for almost six years.  During the past seven years, so much has happened.  If I broke down the previous seven years, I would think the same thing, but in different ways.  In relation to life, seven years is just a whisper.  I’m grateful for everything, even the hard times, because if everything were rosy all the time, how could I be grateful for anything?  I put my children to bed tonight, hugged them tightly and said goodnight.  Life is but a moment, if I can do so much in seven years, I can’t wait to see what I can do with the next seven, and the next, and the next, and the next!

Sewwwww Long!!

The other day, I said goodbye to my old faithful sewing machine:

See that pink button?  That was the start/stop button.  None of this pedal malarkey!  The yellow button was to go slowly, and the lever was to backtack.    And the simple dial with the stitches?  Three different lengths of straight stitch, three sizes of zigzags, four that I don’t think I ever used, and three buttonhole stitches.  If you imagine there are no stickers to show you how everything works, this machine was basic.  And it scared the hell out of me.  My lovely sister J bought if for me, assuring me that it would make my life easier (this was when I was going through the making kindy bags month.  So she picked the simplest looking one, but one that wasn’t going to be good for nothing.

And I’ve been able to make a whole load of things with this machine!  Bags, pouches, trousers, dresses, skirts, purses, all sorts.  But…I am ready for an upgrade.  And I can totally blame B in Nagano for this, as she bought the same one as me, and brought it to my attention on the U.S. Amazon site at a much lower price than on the Japan one.  So last weekend, this baby arrived:

Today is Thursday and I made my first item using this today.  That’s a whole load of days to wait, but to be honest, I was a bit nervous.  I like change, but it makes me a bit nervous. I am comfortable with the familiar but get bored quickly.  What a contrary madam I am….

So firstly, look at all of those stitches!!  Oh My God!!  There are 60, SIXTY!  I doubt I will ever use them all, but I’m going to give it a damn good try!  And it’s so pretty and sleek!  I had no idea that Brother was a Japanese brand…I’d always thought it was American.  But if it’s good enough for Project Runway, it’s certainly good enough for me!  There is a pedal, but also a speed controller, which is a bit less scary than simply a pedal, but also a little frustrating that you can’t have the full speed range at your foot, so to speak.  It’s computerised, and I’m just getting used to that, but it has a lovely little computery noise when you first turn it on and the needle sets itself into place.  The display tells you which foot to use and it comes with like a billion of them.  Zipper foot, walking foot, buttonhole foot, button foot, quilting foot, and I can’t even remember the others.

It feels so much smoother to sew than my old one, but of course I am still getting used to it, so I’m not really in love with it yet.  I should really read the whole manual first, but I find it easier to read as I need.  There are a couple of things that I miss from my older machine, but these are very silly things.  Like the little bit at the front that you pull off for sleeves or to attach the table, my old one was a little box to keep my bobbins and feet in.  This one is similar in that it has a little bag in that part, but it’s a bit more fiddly.  Also, I find the spool a little short, but I’m sure I’ll get used to these things in time.

Today, I made this little pouch:

I picked up the material in the offcuts section.  I think it’s really cute!  And the lining is a laminated heart fabric.  Perfect for a little cosmetic bag as it’s so easy to wipe clean.  I still have fabric left, so I may make some different sizes for a set.  It’s been a while since I sewed one of these though, so I forgot to attach the pull tags which make it so much easier to open.  But still, cute and I didn’t find the machine that hard to use.  I didn’t get as close to the zip as I would usually like though, and the top stitching is also a little far away from the zip, but again, I think these are things I can get used to.

I’m excited about getting back into sewing a few things.  I ‘ve been a bit bogged down with garment making lately, so I’m giving that a bit of a rest, as I much prefer making accessories and smaller projects that don’t take forever to make.  Plus you can generally go much bolder with prints and colours when making accessories, unless you are making children’s clothes of course, and I love bright colours!

Happy Sewing!

Crap, Crap, Crap

Wow, I have completely lost le mojo de blogging!  Nothing much is going on here, perhaps that’s why?  Or just too much that I don’t know where to start?  Anyway, I don’t really have a good idea for a blog.  I just thought I’d better write something to ease me back into it, so you will be treated to my verbal diarrhoea – yay for you!

Storm (my girl cat) is in heat.  We got Thunder fixed a while ago, I didn’t want to risk him knocking her up.  The vet was hesitant, as he was only about five months old at the time, and they like to wait until six months, or the cat shows signs of adulthood.  These signs include pissing up everything, running around like a maniac and wanting to go outside.  Well the last two, he already did, but I’m fairly sure it wasn’t a sign of his impending desire to mate.  The first one, ugh, God…he already flicked the litter everywhere and sometimes brought his poo out with him.  Peeing as well as all of that, I could not stand.  Plus anyway, from what I’ve read, five months is fine.  The vet looked at me and said, “well, I suppose.  They do that in America from four months, right?”  In my head, I said, “oh do they?  How about in Peru?”.  In reality, I smiled at her and gritted my teeth.

So Thunder is a boy forever.  And he has the fat post-castration belly to prove it.  We had meant to get Storm done too, but as there was no rush, neither of us really did anything to get the process started.  A little while ago, she did a bit of caterwauling…at least what I THOUGHT was caterwauling…Now I see that it was NOT.  Since last Friday, she has been practically screaming (as much as a cat can, and believe me, they make some very un-cat-like noises), not being able to keep still, licking her bits (really Storm, that’s not how ladies behave), and from today, lifting up her rear.  Every time someone brushes past her, her bum is in the air.  Seriously..that is NOT what a lady does!!  And poor Thunder.  He just wants to play, but every time he tries to wrestle with her, she does the whole rolling around on the floor bit and Thunder slinks away sharpish.

I asked Y to contact the vet and see if we could get her in this weekend.  It’s an overnight thing for the girls, and a bit more major, so weekend would be better so I can get a bit of help with the language, etc.  She should have finished her cycle by then, but apparently cats get them every few weeks.  I really don’t want to live through another.  She’s very affectionate, and I mean she’ll come for a fuss and sit on my lap, which is nice (only the times when she doesn’t present me with her vagina), but I want my old cat back.  The snooty independent animal who won’t let anyone touch her.  It’s definitely preferable to the noise that wakes me up every night…

Out the other side

Ho hum, guess who caught the flu?  From a very early Tuesday morning, or middle of the night, whichever way your perspective goes, when I woke up with a fever feeling like crap, until now, where I still feel like crap, but a better grade of crap than earlier in the week.  I’m sure other mothers will agree (or fathers, depending on who is the stay at home parent), being sick, with sick children to care for, really sucks.  In my opinion, being sick, when your children are getting better/or well sucks more.  We have been pretty much housebound for the past week and a half.  On Monday afternoon, I took the kids out for a drive and despite exploring the same territory several times due to the children always wanting to go left, it was nice to get out without actually being out.  We stopped at a convenience store for hot lemon, then it was back home to the warm again (well, slightly less warm than in the car actually, but that’s Japanese insulation for you).

I have to say, I think this is the first time I’ve ever had flu.  It really knocked me for six.  So much so, that on the Tuesday late morning, I had to ask Y to take the afternoon off work to come and help me.  This is very rare for me.  I have a guilty conscience, am very stubborn and hate to say that I can’t cope.  So he came home and I asked him if he would make me some chicken soup.  The children had already made themselves some peanut butter and jam sandwiches – hurray for sliced bread.  I asked him to hang up the laundry, “if you could, please” and every time I asked him to do something, I felt wretched.  Eventually, I went up to bed and read my book for a while before dropping off.  I estimate that I got about half an hour before H came up and woke me from my slumber,

“Mummy, Daddy’s watching too much television.  I keep telling him, but he keeps saying ‘this is the good bit’ and keeps watching it.  Mummy, I’m bored.”

“What do you want me to do about it?” I grunted, “just go and play if you don’t want to watch it.”

Two minutes later, L comes up and jumps on me.

Ten minutes later, Y comes up, “what should I cook for dinner?”

Erm, I don’t know, use your imagination?!?  He went off to the supermarket with L and left me with a restless H.  I found her a Hana’s Helpline episode on You tube and we watched that together.  Then she wanted to chat.  What about, I can’t remember.  I had a fever, and I never get a fever.  I was a bit of a wreck.  So after being unable to get back to sleep, I ventured downstairs after Y and L were back and saw what they were having for dinner.  Rice balls wrapped in tons of really salty korean seaweed, and yakitori..hmm, not the wisest choice for two children who’d been living on dried toast for the past four days.

“Do you want some?” Y asked.

“No, thanks, I’d like a ham salad toastie though.”  Y sat down to eat.  Feeling pissy, I heaved my aching body out from under the kotatsu, made it myself, had a huge temper tantrum about him not really being all that helpful, ate my sandwich, then hauled myself back under the kotatsu.

Today, day four, after sleeping sitting up wedged on pillows so I could actually breathe, I woke up feeling semi-normal.  Apart from the above, I have little recollection of the days that preceded this one.  I remember the Tamiflu made the kids really unbelievably naughty, and that I was cold pretty much all the time.  I woke up to piles of dirty clothes lying by the side of my bed, dust everywhere, laundry all over the place and cat litter flicked all over the place.  I thought, at least I should do the hoovering today, and ended up whipping around the house, vacuuming, dusting, bed changing, ironing, clothes sorting, chucking, etc.  I DO feel better for it though.  If they say you feel better when you look better, I think the same can be said for a clean/tidy house.  I sorted out baby clothes that had been hanging around for years that nobody wanted, and threw a lot of stuff out that I realised was just no good anymore.  Now for a relaxing evening, please be good going to bed tonight kids, and remember reading a whole book has Mummy gasping for breath, ok?

Down the pan

My attempts of blogging at least once a week seem to have gone down the pan, eh?  I shouldn’t set myself any goals, and then my subconscious wouldn’t rebel against them so much.

Last week was tough.  On Wednesday evening, L came home from nursery and was clingier than usual.  He hardly ate his dinner, and wanted to sit on my lap the whole time.  After dinner, he said his “tummy hurt”, so after making sure that he was settled, the children sat and watched t.v.  After a while I noticed he was looking really pale.  So I decided to skip bathtime and put them to bed.  A little later, L came down saying his “tummy hurt” still, so he lay down on the sofa.  It seemed to get worse, and while he was talking, I noticed…uh-oh…he’s heaving…so I grabbed him (around the stomach with him facing away from me, in retrospect not very conducive to not vomiting, but at least it was on the floor and not on me).  But we didn’t quite make it to the toilet in time, and once he’d started throwing up (just outside the toilet with the door open), I just let it continue.  A. I would have had to have stepped in vomit to get there.  B. I would have had to have stepped in vomit to get there.

So after this huge upchuck, panic set in, but I tried to stay calm, even though the cats were sniffing around the vomit *gag*.  I changed L’s clothes, wrapped him up in a blanket on the sofa, then set about cleaning up sick that seemed to be EVERYWHERE.  I am terrible with sick.  I’m sure most normal people are, but really awful.  I often end up adding to it myself before I’m finished cleaning it up.  It was the one thing that stopped me going into nursing when I was younger…the thought of having to deal with sick.  Blood, broken bones, gashes, all of that stuff is fine, but sick….ugh…But remarkably I managed to clean and disinfect the offending areas without throwing up at all.

Now there has been influenza going around the nursery, but I didn’t think that it usually included vomiting, but Google told me that it sometimes did in children, so I feared the worst.  H had sniffles and a sore throat too, so I decided to keep them off for the following day.  L was actually much better the next day.  I assumed it had been something he ate at nursery.  Actually, I knew exactly what he’d eaten, and I didn’t need the menu to show me that…if you know what I mean.  So fried squid..you are no longer a friend of mine.  And jelly..not a good combination for a dodgy tummy!

Later that night, H’s temp. started going up, but she wasn’t complaining of any stomachache.  I gave her some Calpol and hoped that she wouldn’t hurl too.  Next day, I called the nursery to tell them we were staying off, but that I didn’t think it was flu, just a cold, and L a stomach bug.  But I decided to take them to the docs. anyway.  I chose the docs. a few minutes drive away, because although I like to talk in English with the doc., and understand everything that’s going on, a forty minute drive seemed a little cruel when H seemed to be much worse.

The place was pretty empty.  After I took their temperatures, H- 38.5, L- 36.4, we waited for our turn.  We didn’t have to wait long thankfully.  I really didn’t like the idea of them playing with the germ infested teddies and other toys in their play area.  H went first, and after that high temp., and checking the usual stuff, out came the humungous cotton bud…

“I’ll do a flu test,” the doctor said.  H looked at me with wide eyes and an open mouth.

I quickly said, “they’re going to test for flu and put this up your nose, and it’s going to hurt a bit, but be brave, ok?”  So they started putting it up this small child’s nose until it looked as if there was no room for it to be anymore, and H was scrambling and trying to pull it out, and then they made me hold her hands down and then I started trying to calm her down by saying such stupid things as, “let’s count” and “it’s ok”, which didn’t work at all.  H who usually doesn’t cry when she gets an injection (even when she was a baby), was literally SCREAMING in the doctor’s surgery.  Oh it was horrid  After about one minute we got a positive for A-type influenza…

When the doc. said, “ok, L’s turn”, I was shocked that he didn’t turn around and bolt it.  But he sat up on the chair, and gave the doc. a big smile and the usual giggle and wriggle when she put the stethoscope on his tummy.  Thankfully, she didn’t want to do the test on him, since his temperature was normal now.  She just thought it was a stomach bug, as expected.

So off home we went and I gave H Tamiflu and she pretty much slept on the sofa for the whole day, waking up at lunch time and eating a piece of toast.  Her temp. peaked at 39.8, which was pretty scary.  She had a febrile seizure when she was a baby, and I’d had no idea what it was.  I had picked her up and ran, in the middle of the night, pregnant and in my pyjamas, to the nearest doctor.  That had happened at 39.4 degs., so I’m always nervous when her temperature goes above 39…The doc. had given some suppositories for reducing the fever, but I hate those things.  They usually come out, and then you don’t know whether you should give another in case some was absorbed, and you have to wait 12 hours in between doses, etc. etc. etc.  so I gave her some Calpol and she slept through the night.

Next day she was like a completely different person.  L was fed up though, so I took him out to the park.  To be honest, we were both desperate to get out.  H was a bit jealous, but she was still feeling a bit under the weather, so she kind of understood.  I should have known something was up when after ten minutes at the park, L said, “It’s cold Mummy, let’s go back to the warm car.”  This is almost unheard of.  Usually however long we are at the park it’s not long enough.  And there are always tears when it’s time to go.  He fell asleep in the car, and he felt really feverish after we got home.  Thankfully, Y was at home, seeing as it was a Saturday, and he searched for a doc. that was open.  For some reason (I don’t really know why), he chose to go to a usual doc. as opposed to a paediatrician.  He came home (thankfully he’d had to deal with the cotton bud) with Relenza…

“What on earth is that?!?” is what I said (although this is the cleaner version), whipping out my phone to check the recommendations as I was fairly sure this was a drug for older children/adults.  Hmmm, from age SEVEN, it said.  On GlaxoSmithkline website.

“Was this doctor a bit rubbish?” I asked (again, this is the cleaner version).

“He didn’t seem as if he knew what he was doing,” Y replied.

“Well L’s not taking that.” I replied (c.v. ok, my language was bad that day, but really, giving a three year old meds meant for at least a seven year old?!?!).

“He pulled out the leaflet and read that it was ok for children,” Y said regarding the doctor.  Bloody hell, we’re not going there again.  Thankfully, we managed to get an appointment with another doctor.  A paediatrician with a good reputation where we’ve been before.  I gave strict instructions not to let this doc. do another flu test, and not to come home with more Relenza.  Thankfully, he did not, L got his Tamiflu, and the next day he was much brighter too.

Yesterday, Y decided to use Relenza as a preventative measure (apparently this is effective).  I thought this was a bit silly, but I suppose since we have the medicine, and we didn’t have to pay, as they were prescribed for a child, why not I suppose.  Y seems to think we will both get the flu anyway, but I have been really careful about hygiene and disinfecting, so my fingers are crossed!

I have to give major credit to my husband this weekend though.  He helped so much.  I was feeling worn out yesterday and he went out and did all the shopping, vacuumed and did the laundry.  Then I was able to take a shower, do my hair and feel a bit more normal.  I’m really very lucky to have such a helpful husband.

Today both children seem so very much better.  I didn’t really think Tamiflu would do much, but I’ve been pleasantly surprised.  Now we all have cabin fever, so I think we’ll go for a drive after lunch.  Going out without properly going out.  I think it’ll do us all the world of good.  Stay healthy!!

Fabric, pins and needles

Happy New Year to all.  I can’t quite believe it’s January again, and I’m surviving the cold…just about!  After weeks of deliberation, we decided to get a kotatsu.  For those of you who don’t know, it’s a table with a built in heater underneath, and a duvet that you can slip in between the table top and the frame.  You sit under it and it’s almost like being in bed..but that you have a table, and it’s heated…maybe you should Google it..ha ha!  We used to have one when we were first married.  Actually it belongs to MIL, and thinking she was still using it, we decided to buy one of our own.  Hers was really big, but we figured that since we will put it away in storage for most of the year, a small one would do just fine.  We might end up getting a coffee table at some point when the children are bigger, but right now we don’t really have much need for it, and it would just end up getting in the way.  The kotatsu gets in the way too, but it’s not really as annoying as I’d remembered.  Mind you, our first kotatsu was also used for eating our meals…with a baby who dropped food everywhere.  Plus I was really crap at cleaning up those days.

The holiday is still going on.  Y went back to work today though, so it’s getting a little closer to normality.  We have done a lot of firsts this year..first bread baking, biscuit making, park visiting, shrine praying, MIL visiting, etc., but I have yet to sew anything yet this year!!  I usually spend my mid-mornings sewing, after I’ve done the housework and before I have to pick up the children from nursery.  I made a few things for Christmas, but have waited to post until the gifts were received.  My favourite was this:

Can you tell what it is yet?

How about this one:

this was requested from me by my younger sister

Well, it’s a sandwich wrap!  What a great economical/ecological idea, eh?  Wish I could claim it, but no, there are loads of these things around.  It was surprisingly simple to make, apart from the tutorial I used getting the velcro corners wrong…grr…but thank you seam ripper, those were sorted quickly enough.  The lining is laminated cotton.  Might be wise to check that the material you use is safe for food if you are thinking of making one.

And more things that I made for gifts last month:

WordPress is having a rotating issue with me today…sorry for your neck x  Anyway, this is a lunch bag with an oilcloth lining.

A lovely patchwork skirt for H.  This took DAYS, but that’s only because it’s supposed to be made from charm pack pieces that are sized and pinked, so I had to cut out and zig zag all the seams.  It’s a whole lot of material…look:

this is a good old Deborah Moebes tutorial  from her book Stitch by Stitch.  It has a really good twirl to it too, but the gathering was a hard slog…I always get stuck with gathering

Ok, I admit that these trousers started off without the furry cuffs…but they were too short.  I don’t know what happened, because I usually do trousers with a huge hem so I can let them down when my childrens legs grow, but I must’ve forgotten, so I stuck the santa bits on the bottom.  They look a bit odd in the photo, but they are really cute on!  The checked fabric is soft flannel with a slight stretch.  Lovely boyish but red (almost unheard of here) fabric.

My second attempt at a jersey top.  I made this pattern from an existing t-shirt, but I’m sure I must’ve made about seven changes as I was going alone, and not to the pattern either, so I think it’ll be a while until I make another.  I scoured the net for tutorials for a simple long sleeved jersey top, but there are NONE!!  If you find any, please let me know!

Ugh, another sideways one, and so blurry, but I couldn’t get the children to stay still.  I made H a dress from the same jersey, and made it a shirt tail hem because, erm…I ran out of fabric and thought it would look cuter than trimming it to the same length.  I based it on the pattern here.  I still find the collar a bit loose, but again, gathering, and I think I should have pulled the collar tighter while I was stitching it.  It’s a bit annoying.  These were the last two things I sewed, so I am looking forward to getting back to proper cotton twill.  I got a kindle for Christmas, so the next thing is perhaps a case for that?

I picked up a fortune yesterday and it turned out to be “great fortune” which is the best one you can get.  Here’s to a great year of happiness, health and lots and lots of sewing!

Kill me nooooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!

Day seven of the winter holiday, I can’t believe there are, oh at least 705 more days.  Ok, not quite so many, but they are off until 10th January.  And even then, 10th is a 9-11 day only.  I hate the holidays.  First of all because I think, ‘oh, that’s ok, I can spend some time with the children and we don’t have to get up early and go outside in the freezing cold’.  Stupidly, I must forget this every time a holiday comes around, we DO have to get up early (because I can’t sleep when someone is pulling at my cover and playing hide and seek under my blanket while giggling and screaming), spending time with my children is all very well, but I do have work to do around the house as well, and if we don’t go outside, the children turn into manic bouncy balls of craziness.

Yesterday I awoke to screaming, banging on floors and a general feeling of misery at the thought of my children, especially H who seems to have turned into a hyperactive monster overnight, spending the whole day bouncing off the walls.  I don’t give my children sweets and all that stuff, but wow, if I did, all those e numbers would have to be seen to be believed.  I think Y must be slipping them into their cereal in the mornings.  I’m sure some of you are thinking, ‘if she didn’t want to spend the day with children, why did she have them?’  Well there are many reasons, but it’s bloody hard work.  Plus with them going to kindergarten now, I’m not really used to it.  And I think that’s maybe why they’re out of sorts.  Their routine is different too.  So after breakfast yesterday, I decided to take us to Omiya to spend their book tokens.  They have bookshops in Gunma too of course, but I thought a train trip and a bullet train home would tire them out and hopefully make a nice day out for us all.  It was fun I guess, although really hot in Saitama!!  We had wrapped up waaaaaay too warm.

The children both fell asleep in the car on the way home from the station, then woke up enough to eat dinner and crashed out in bed again after their five new books.  Then this morning began as yesterday’s had.  I’m tired, I’m grumpy, it’s cold, they’re bored.  Tomorrow, I really need to take them out to the park or something, I was just too busy today.  Y is off work tomorrow, at least that’s something, although that doesn’t always mean someone helps me.  I feel a bit crap.  Like I can’t do it and keep my sanity.  I don’t know.  Having children is hard.