Something has gone very wrong with the pelvis.

It has been on a steady decline for a few months but today I have attained a whole new level of shitfulness*.

The GP was consulted last week when things began getting out of control, when I could no longer manage the pain without some prescription drugs.

The ridiculous thing is that it seems to have just continued to worsen since then. If it weren’t obscene to do so I would love to post some pics of the swelling. My lower back and …… lower front?? Anyway, the front of my pelvis, are both ridiculously swollen. Swollen as in makes your body look distorted. Freakishly swollen.

I cannot sit up. Every muscle from the middle of my back to my knees seems to spasm if I do.

I can’t really find the words to express the negativity in my thoughts at the moment. I have avoided this blog because what should I say?

I don’t know where this is heading. I am not getting better.

No one has any ideas. There is nothing that can be done to help me apparently. This is just fact. It has been over four years and I have investigated every quack, poking and prodding specialist and witch doctor there is.

What do you do if the doctor just says, “Oh, it should just be better by now. I would have thought it would be better”. That is not helpful.

What if this just continues? Continues to get worse, with no reason for it?

The pain is such a  strident factor in my life. It is like a loud hum that is the background noise for everything that I do. So loud is this white noise of pain that recently when we were out shopping I got a real shock. The pain stopped. I was standing next to Beefcake waiting for a lift and I turned to him and told him that all of a sudden there was no pain. It was indescribable. I could breath, I could hear, I could feel. It only lasted a few minutes but it made me realise how much this is affecting me.

I am not prepared to live like this for the rest of my life.

What is the alternative though?

Sorry people. You don’t need to say anything. I just needed to vent this. I am a tangled bundle of dark emotions. Decent pain relief was supposed to fix that but alas, this pain is a tough nut to crack.

*Now I wouldn’t have thought that was a real word but WP says that indeed it is so who am I to disagree.

…..it was because of a snake!

A snake I tell you!

Yesterday was Pudding’s party. It was good. There was a scary castle cake, which one friend (who happens to have been to all of our children’s parties for the last 8 years pretty much) said was the best I had ever done – quite an accomplishment, which I will post pictures of later.

I digress. The party was lovely. Everyone ate and drank and made merry.

It was a little chilly, slightly disappointing as on Saturday we had unseasonably warm weather of 27 °C. It would have been nice if it had continued but as it is still winter officially I shouldn’t complain. Anyhoo, I decided that Grub was getting cold and sent Poss inside to grab her a hoodie. Well, the hoodie, I noticed after I put it on her, was missing part of the zip.  I decided to pop into the laundry to check if it was caught in part of the machine or on the floor or something but as I entered our very glamourous outdoor galvanised iron shed laundry I stopped dead in my tracks. There, sunning itself in a shaft of sunlight coming through the sole window was something black and long and slithery.

Now, peoples, it is NOT snake season yet. Not only is it NOT snake season, we live in a very inner city suburb of Adelaide, it is not semi-rural. It is not what I would have pitctured as prime snake country. NOT AT ALL.

Nevertheless, it was most definitely a snake. There is a little gecko who lives happily in our laundry, I see him all of the time and this was not my friend the gecko. This was a long and slithery thing. Alright, it WAS a baby snake. Only as long as my forearm, if that, but it had no fucking legs people. It had no contours of body, it WAS A SNAKE!

Our best guess is that the overly warm weather on Saturday got the snakey all confused. We spent the morning cleaning out the laundry. Beefcake was planning to flush it out and “deal with it”. I’m not really sure what he was planning but I made it clear there would be no snake killing on my watch. This is despite my 77-year-old country-dwelling Nana telling me yesterday to just make sure I wear shoes when I put a load of washing  on so that I could stomp on it!

The laundry was empty, we checked all possible hidey holes (such as in near the motor of the chest freezer) but it had definetely left the building. It was funny because as Beefcake began to clear out the room he was telling me there was no way a snake could have gotten out via the back wall, “sealed and solid” he declared. This was until we moved the trunk, which is where the dryer sits. The snake had slithered behind that trunk as it beat it’s hasty exit and right in that corner we found a good sized snake door.

We have done our best to block up the gaps and large hole with timber and cement. We’re not convinced that it is snake proof but we’ve done all we could. The neighbours fence, which runs alongside the laundry, has a large jasmine climbing up it and a big bed of ferns, both of which have been home to rats (Rhubarb and Beefcake have seen them) so we are going to ask them to significantly trim or remove the plants so that the rats aren’t able to live in them.

I’m pretty sure that if I see the snake again I will be removing the bloody laundry building and putting something newer and less wildlife friendly in it’s place. At least it’s a good excuse to get Beefcake to do ALL the washing!

I received  a note home from Poss’ school yesterday.

A note about a super spectacular “Flight of Fantasy” art show to be held at the school.

“Fantastic “, you say, “how wonderful that the school is fostering the students’ creative abilities, it must be a very fine school indeed”.

Indeed it is a fine school.

When I first read the note this is just what I thought. I thought, “how nice”, as I glanced at the note, stuck it to the fridge and herded the children out the door for school. I really didn’t give it another thought until Beefcake asked me if I had read it.

Me: “Um, yeah, I’ve seen it, it’s an art show or something”

Beefcake: “Yes, but did you actually read the note, Ali?”

Me: “Um, kind of, it’s an art show?”

Beefcake “Yeah, it’s an art show for students. They say here that you don’t have to pay for entry”

Me: “Oh, okay, that’s nice, they usually make you pay for that sort of thing”

Beefcake: “Yeah, there’s no entry fee but you will be able to purchase your own child’s art for the very reasonable price of just $20″

Me: “What the #*%&????” (children were present)

Seriously people.

The note advertises an art show that is-

“to primarily be a celebration of the children’s art and a chance to come together for a fun afternoon with our community, with music food and refreshments”

Now, first of all, that is their run-on grammar-deficient sentence, not mine. I don’t need their help in that area. Second, I am sure that refreshments will be offered for a fairly extortionate reasonable price. It will be a delighful afternoon.

I am sure.

They are also looking for parents to assist with setup, picking up supplies (they have requested a small truck, if someone should have one spare) and framing the “artworks”.

So, just to clarify.

The school would like us to come along to an event, free of charge (picture the underlined portion in flashing neon lights, I do!) , pay three times the going rate for a can of warm lemonade and a stale cupcake, pay $20 for our child’s masterpiece, which we have both helped to frame and facilitate the exhibition of and give up a Sunday afternoon for the privilege.

Yeah.

The fundraising committee at Poss’ school need a little reality check. I knew that a fair few parents at the school had their heads up their own arses, but seriously??!!

They finish off by saying they will be offering a convenient pre-purchasing system to “avoid the rush on the day”. So we should also purchase the art just for the love of our children or something, without even sighting it first?

Somehow I don’t think there will be a rush on the day.

Does anyone else think that this is absolutely nuts??

Tell me I’m not alone here people. Poss’ school is crazy, no?

Today dear Pudding, you are four.

Wait, did I just say four? I can’t quite believe that.

Four means big things my darling. It means moving up to the “big group” for your swimming lessons, something which you are incredibly proud of.

Four means that we have entered the year that you will begin kindy. You will begin to be away from us for the first time. Four is the first year that we are not your whole world. These are big things, little one. I don’t know if we are ready for this, your Dad and I.

Four is about you finding out that you will be fine somewhere without us. That you can make friends on your own. You can have fun, you can unleash yourself onto the world.

I am both thrilled and frightened for you. Thrilled that you are my big boy now, you are growing and doing and being in so many wonderful ways. Frightened that your spirit might be cracked or crumpled in some small way. I’m terrified I might not be there to prevent that, no,  I know that I can’t prevent that.

You are such a remarkable, magically shiny creature, my son. I revel in all of your energy and shout and bounce.

You are sweet and caring and loving in ways that continually surprise me.

It has been a hard year for you. Learning to share your Mummy and Daddy with a new little person. I understand that it has been rough at times but we really mean it when we say you are the best and most loving of big brothers.

I’m so proud of you boy.

Love Mummy.

I have entered one of those weeks.

It is Pudding’s birthday tomorrow and there are three special meals to make. I have made food-related promises people! Although to be fair, he requested 2-minute noodles for lunch, poor sweet deprived child, so I think I should be able to achieve that without too much strain. I have not wrapped any of his presents yet either and I have gone and purchased quite a few small things, so as to pad out the haul, so to speak. It will take me hours and I have a broken nail that hurts. Yes I know, you are wondering how I manage to soldier on, aren’t you?

There is also a proper party for every poor soul we could rope into it on Sunday.

It is going to be a rough week.

Ah, who am I kidding. I revel in food preparation of all kinds. It will be exhausting and fabulous.

I’m actually so excited about giving him his presents tomorrow that I can hardly think straight. I love giving presents. I think I have got the balance of what he wanted and what is decent and reasonable to buy just right. I hope he loves it all.

I will need wine in order to complete the wrapping, however, as the pelvis is still not consistently cooperative and it is a tediously upright sort of a task. Thank goodness Grub has begun going a good while between feeds at night. And she’s only 14 months, wow, I hardly had to wait for that at all.

Wish me well.

I keep forgetting to blog. It is most odd. In this case there are a couple of factors to blame.

Factor one: Pelvis

I got some sort of bizarre hysterical urge to exercise last week. I got all inspired and decided that I would take action.

Action about my pelvis and action about the extra large arse and thighs that I have been lugging around since Grub was born. I experienced a dramatic improvement in the state of my pelvis once I was able to start exercising post Pudding. Whilst I am still not there in terms of my day to day pelvic stability I decided I could wait no longer. I called a couple of gyms and went straight out and exercised, quite hard – that same day.

Hah!

Eeeediot!

The trial run at the gym triggered a major episode which has left me contemplating a visit to the doctor. Let me just clarify that in order for me to even consider a trip to the quack I need to be in a very sorry state indeed. The pelvis is not behaving, not at all.

Factor two: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson.

Some time ago Katyboo recommended this book. Her praise was so high that I got myself straight down to my local library and tried to get a copy. Apparently this is a much sought after novel. There were NINE people ahead of me in the queue for the four copies of the book that the library holds. I reserved this book seven weeks ago, I believe. I was beginning to think that I would never lay my eyes on the book when I got a text from the library to say that my copy was waiting two days ago.

I have been alternating between lying flat on my back and moaning and devouring the book.

I have been unable to force myself to even open my laptop as the thought of interaction with the world made me feel all weepy and woeful.

I must be feeling a touch better I suppose as I feel tonight like saying hello to the internet.

I told Beefcake yesterday that I didn’t want to blog because I didn’t want to just get on and have a whinge about my pelvis

Yet AGAIN.

So, this may be a bit of a whinge about my pelvis but let us pretend that I have posted something hilarious about Rhubarb’s fear of pooping in the school toilets or Pudding’s current obsession with using the term “bumhole” every 2.4 seconds courtesy of one very annoying 13yo brother who introduced it to his vocab without a second thought.

Pretend I posted those things and comment accordingly.

I will  get my act together soon, I swear.