2000

Oh Deborah, do you recall?
Your house was very small,
with wood chip on the wall.
When I came around to call,
you didn't notice me at all.

I said let's all meet up in the year 2000.
Won't it be strange when we're all fully grown.
Be there at 2 o'clock by the fountain down the road.
I never knew that you'd get married.
I would be living down here on my own on
that damp and lonely Thursday years ago.


They played Pulp's Disco 2000 on the radio this morning. Release date 1995.

Back in 1995, I was 12 going on 13. It was the year both my grandfathers passed away, followed by a summer I'll never forget. It was the year I became a "young lady" (which prompted my mother to call EVERY member of the family to let them know - thanks ma). It was the year of the Aussie cousins, and what will forever be remembered as my "hormone attack" (no, I will not be telling that story). It was the year I first went away to Girl Guide Camp. It was the year we bought a new house and my sister got sick. In many ways, 1995 was the year that started turning me into the adult I am today.

I remember thinking that 2000 was so far away, it would probably never happen. And yet here we are, soon to be raising our glasses and waving farewell to 2011. How, pray tell, did that happen?!

Cars do not hover, air is not pure, robots have not replaced half of humankind, and Space is still not a holiday destination. Hah. Fancy that.

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Wordless Wednesday: Little Cousins

Wordless Wednesday: Laundry Elf

I'll Be Honest

Lately, to the large extent, life's been a great, big, steaming pile of crap. Since around the 29th October we've barely had a whole night's sleep. Between teething, an ear infection and God only knows what else, Emily has been up almost every night for hours at a go.

Some nights, even thinking of her smile, her chuckles, her general adorableness hasn't cut it. Some nights have pushed me so far, I've ended up in tears not wanting to go into her room for fear of losing my temper with her. Some nights I've despised her.

Luckily I'm surrounded by some great friends who, while they can offer no solutions, assure me that feeling this way is normal. (Equally, there have been "friends" who have offered no support whatsoever, instead trying to make me feel like the worst mother that ever lived. Always nice, that.)

Days become equally as hard. I'm so tired I'm listless, unmotivated and verging on depressed. Housework has severely fallen behind. I then look at the mess around me and feel even worse. Some days I have no energy to hold a conversation with anyone and avoid meeting friends or socialising at all. This plus my husband's very long work hours sometimes makes for very unfulfilling days, meaning things are already not great at bedtime, when we then need to gear up for the possibility of yet another tough night.

My point? Not sure there is one. But if any of you think my life is a bed of roses all the time....? Not so much.

[I wrote this at 3:30am this morning after having been up for 3 hours, 2 of them trying to get Emily to go back to sleep, one of them trying to get myself back to sleep. Apologies if it sounds somewhat desperate. I was.]


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Update, 22nd November @ 20:50

I have learnt that when I reach rock bottom, I feel the need write about it. And after that, the only way is up. However, thanks to my writing about it and in this case making it public, you've all made it that much easier to find the way "up". Since yesterday's post, the amount of love and support that has come FLOODING in (here, FB, Twitter, email, text, whatsapp, you name it!) is amazing, and so moving. I am in such an immensely different place today - and it's all thanks to you. I am once again able to look at Emily and feel pride and overwhelming love for her, and when she moaned a bit this afternoon, it didn't feel like the end of the world. We just had some cuddles and sang a few songs, and she was happy again. I couldn't do that recently, it's felt so hard, like I'd become a rock, incapable of feeling warmth towards her. We had a really great day today. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you <3

Toughie

The weekend was not quite the one we had in mind. I was unwell on Thursday and Friday, and so desperate for Emily not to catch whatever I had, I went a little bit mad on Thursday evening disinfecting toys I'd touched throughout the day, the kitchen, and the "13 hideouts for icky germs." It probably didn't exactly aid my recovery. But while David ended up getting sick over the weekend and is still recovering, Emily didn't get sick. So yay me.

What she did have was lots of teething pain. Loss of appetite, a runny nose, a few very toxic nappies, and on Saturday night, a fever of 101 degrees. I stripped her down to her vest when she woke us up to find her that way at 2am on Sunday and I could feel her burning through my nightclothes, her thighs red with the heat. My heart went out to her.

David moved downstairs to the sofa and Emily came into bed with me. But she never quite settles to sleep in our bed, and that night was no different. Eventually we ended up back in her room, snuggled on the armchair until she fell asleep at 4:30am, finally (a little bit) cooler.

Short of bulging gums, there is still no sign of the wretched teeth. But today she woke up suddenly knowing how to clap, and she's loving it. She's been trying to clap for weeks and weeks and couldn't quite get her head around it and finally, she's figured it out and she is SO proud of herself, it's tangible.

There have been many cuddles and snuggles over the last few days, many tears and much screaming (silent on my part), along with a good (but never sufficient) dose of patience and counting-to-ten. Bear with me if I am not around much this week, my energy is being spent elsewhere!