thewhitelily: (Lily)
When I woke up this morning, my whiplash injury was playing up, but I decided to go on an outing with my mother and my kids despite being barely able to turn my head.  While at the playground, my healthy, very active Mum had a fall: three bones broken and dislocated in her ankle.  She's 76, currently expected to spend up to a week in hospital before they can operate to pin things back together, and she will need a lot of help to get back on her feet.  And another family member has just been diagnosed with cancer.  His prognosis is extremely good, but there will be unwelcome side effects to treatment.

On the bright side, I found the lid to my special happiness teapot, which I had feared lost.  The boys got to see grandma being loaded into a real, live ambulance, and I and everyone around got to see what an epic BAMF my mother and personal hero is. My one and a half year old son demonstrated to me his incredible bravery, in getting onto a train without complaint despite literally shaking with fear at the noise it was making.  It's the first time that he's been on a train since he started talking about them all the time, and I'm so proud and happy for him that he managed to relax and enjoy soaking in the close encounter.

My family--from the eldest right down to the youngest of all, and everyone in between--is filled with people who face things and deal with them and pull together, not only in times of trouble, but all the time.

And tomorrow will be another day.  With happy tea.
thewhitelily: (Default)
We've entered a study of Baby Triple P which is a new offshoot of the Positive Parenting Program (one of the only evidence-based parenting courses around). This one is aimed at couples expecting their first child. We're yet to find out whether we're in the control group or the group that actually gets to do the course (darn you, scientific method!), but from what I've heard about it from others at my Aquamums class, I'm really hoping that we make the coin toss.

We've already done antenatal classes, a separate class on keeping well during pregnancy, and this last weekend a breastfeeding class administered by the Australian Nazi Breastfeeding Association (which was good, if unofficially but hair-tearingly bigoted against things like pain relief during childbirth and mothers who also work outside the home), so if we don't get in we won't exactly be entirely lost for information about what to do when my lodger decides it's time to move out.

And even if we don't get to do the Baby Triple P course, I've already found the initial survey we each had to fill in (presumably to compare our current happiness and relationship status with that after we've had the baby - and then compare the changes between the group that did the course and the control group) incredibly interesting - and quite an emotional boost, to be honest. Among other things, I had to list how many times in the past day/week/month Hubby's been physically affectionate, verbally affectionate, done household chores either unprompted or on request, provided sympathy, socialised with my family, discussed and resolved relationship issues, confided in me, talked through financial issues - and also, because the questionnaire asks of course, how many times he's been verbally or physically abusive, critical, controlling, invaded my privacy, lied, or went back on his word - and then how happy I was about that number.

I won't list numbers here (although I will say the second group of answers had a thankfully large number of zeros in it), but I will say that I'm one incredibly lucky girl. May my life and relationship continue to be as awesome as they are right at this moment.

Edit: We got in. Well, they say we got in, and that the control group don't receive the course at all. But it is, after all, run by the psychology department. Maybe they're just saying that and we'll be going along to course lectures filled with lies! Hmmm, I suspect that wouldn't get past the university ethics committee. Is paranoia a pregnancy symptom?
thewhitelily: (Default)
I'm having trouble getting started again after the unlamented departure of the Week Long Headache From Hell.

Procrastination, boredom, and lack of productivity are habit-forming. The more I procrastinate, the less crucial it seems not to put things off for just one more minute/hour/day. The less productive I am, the harder it becomes to face the task the following day when my job list is bigger with closer deadlines. The less I make use of ideas, the less they come my way. The more bored I let myself become, the less I even want to be happy and alive. And however much I'm deadline-driven, once it's become clear that I'm not going to be any more likely to hit my self-imposed deadline if I do anything today than if I don't, it ceases to be effective as that motivating factor.

To tell the truth, I think the headache might have hightailed it out of here sooner if I'd managed to get into a productive cycle rather than staying in an unproductive thing.

But hey, what else am I supposed to do at half past one in the morning, when I can't sleep for lack of satisfaction?

More procrastination?

Perfection

Jan. 27th, 2007 12:26 am
thewhitelily: (Default)
With all the little annoyances of day to day life, it’s easy to forget sometimes how happy I really am.

There are things that could be better in my life – I could do without the sudden resurgence of Hubby’s illness, and his frequently recurring temper tantrums – I could do with being able to stop work and write full time or just, you know, whenever I feel like it – I could do without insomnia or losing vast quantities of weight every time I stop paying attention to what I eat – I could do with having forty-three hours in each day – I could do without the extra stress of worrying about the judges who are yet to appear at the Orions – I could do with some more rain to stop my garden looking so crispy – I could do without feeling like the hunchback of Notre Dame whenever I see a photo of myself – I could do with being a fair bit further into paying off the mortgage.

Life isn’t perfect, and I doubt it ever will be, even if all those things are handed to me on a platter.

But the fact remains, I am totally, absurdly, ridiculously happy with my life.

This simple fact occurred to me this evening, lying on the bottom of the pool, staring up through the expanse of water at the blurry stars.

It hasn’t been an especially unusual day apart from being a Friday where I didn’t have to work. The in-laws had been over for a barbecue for Australia Day. I’d spent a few happy hours preparing delectable (and barbecuable) delights to serve up, I’d blackmailed Hubby into vacuuming and then mopped the floor where the tiles had started growing mould, I’d finally sat down when the guests arrived and spent an evening of pleasant conversation on the patio, realised with some regret I’d forgotten to make a pavlova, seen everyone off and finished up the dishes, then gone to have a dip before bed.

And I lay on the bottom of the pool, just short of neutral buoyancy, pinching my nose shut to avoid getting a lungful of the water which has just hit thirty degrees, thinking... does it get any better than this?

I don’t know. But this’ll certainly do until something better comes along.

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The White Lily

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