I’ve been feeling a bit sorry for myself this week. It’s been quite hot which always makes things seem more difficult. Nothing really bad has happened to me but I have had lots of little accidents which piled up to make me feel rather attacked by Murphy.

Last Saturday I had a migraine which I tried to pretend I didn’t have by refusing to stop doing things, so my mother and Abigail and I went to the Brisstyle Market at Hamilton. I kept having nurofens and putting migrastick on to help it feel less bad. I think that was the start of my adventures. The migraine in itself and also getting migrastick very close to my eyes. I dab it across the top of my forehead at the hairline usually. But because it was really hot that day and we were walking back to the ferry, I was sweating. The sweat obviously carried the oils from the migrastick downwards and spread it out. My whole forehead and eyelids were burning icy sting. I had to use a baby wipe to get the stuff off myself. I joked to Daniel that now I knew what it was like to be him, as his skin is too sensitive to use migrastick because it just burns him.

I think the next thing I did was a paper cut on an envelope, of a Christmas card that Daniel’s parents sent us. I sliced it right across the base of my fingernail on my pointer finger. I was surprised at how much it bled. Then after I’d gotten that under control and bandaided up and stuff, I was mkaing dinner and stabbed the end of the knife into my finger accidentally. The opposite finger to the one I cut with the envelope, just to keep things balanced.

There was also pinching my finger between some pliers and dropping the tabletop of a small table on my fingers when I was taking it apart to put in the car to bring to my mum’s house for the kids to sit at for Midsummer lunch.

I’ve got another cut on the meaty/muscle part of my thumb that I don’t know where it came from. Then on Thursday afternoon I was getting ready for Daniel’s work end of year party and I was trying to straighten my hair a bit and somehow lost my grip on the straightening iron. Of course I regrabbed it straight away so it didn’t fall, except by that time my hand was around the hot part, giving me a rather painful burn on my thumb. I put ice on it which was great, but I couldn’t find my germolene so I couldn’t get that on it until we got to my mum’s house and I used hers. For about the first two hours if I took the ice off for more than about 15 seconds, it stung and burned like a son of a. Which is of course why, during that time, Kristian filled his nappy in a disgusting way. You can’t change a nappy while you’re holding an icepack.

While we were at the party I managed to get a splinter in my hand. No idea how, or where it came from. Luckily Daniel keeps a little splinter remover thing in his wallet. After we came back from the party, I spent the night at my mum and Neil’s house with the kids, since Daniel wanted to take the car to work the next day and he would have had to bring us back really early anyway because my grandparents and auntie came down yesterday to visit. The kids were supposed to be on mattresses on the floor but Abigail decided she would sleep in the bed too, so I spent most of the night right on the edge. I don’t know how such a skinny child takes up so much space. So that’s not entirely conducive to the most satisfying night’s sleep.

Abigail wasn’t feeling well yesterday so fun thing #1 occurred when she threw up all over me. And herself of course. I took her into the shower to get us cleaned off and when I tried to get out of the shower fun thing #2 for yesterday happened. The shower door is a bit stiff and I couldn’t open it properly, then one of the parts had come out of it’s track, so I was trying to lift it back in and while doing that managed to knock the other part out. It fell outwards, the bathroom door stopped it from sliding far away and spreading glass further but unfortunately that also meant that it fell on my two smallest toes, cutting them a bit too. I suppose I should be grateful that it didn’t hit Abigail at all but by that point I was seriously feeling pretty fucking sorry for myself and didn’t care about her, especially since it was her “fault” I was in the shower in the first place :) I also must have tried to catch the door a bit with my hand as I have a bruise on the corner pointy bone part of my wrist and that’s kind of tender.

Later after everyone was gone we decided to go in the pool again. I had to go and collect my bathers from the bath where I had thrown them after I rinsed them off in the shower (that’s what I was wearing when Abby threw up on me.) My mum and the girls went to the pool and Kristian was just wandering around near the pool waiting for me. Because he had been quite excited to get in the pool, he had been helpful by removing his own nappy.

I think most people can probably see where this is going.

Of course, it can never be so simple as to just have to wipe his bum and pick up the shite, can it? Dora took it upon herself to run off with the offending lumps in her mouth. So I had to chase after her with the pooper scooper and prise her jaws open to get her to spit it out. Oh yes, fun times INDEED.

To top it off, last night I started to feel most unwell and thought I must have had what Abigail had. Stephanie was ill earlier in the week too but it was thankfully one of those fleeting things and after a night’s sleep she was fine again. So I took myself to bed very early in order to hopefully make that go away.

I do feel better this morning, although somewhat tired still – probably from the late night and bad sleep Thursday as well as the valium I had last night to help me sleep better. Now today it is Midsummer and I am making a declaration. I WILL NOT be injured or thrown up on or shit on or otherwise inconvenienced or discomforted today. I WILL NOT. Or I may just snap.


things of interest

I’m not into news in general, because most of it is a bit boring. I do like to read the articles in the “Oddly Enough” category, though, because they are often good for a laugh or a WTF? There seem to be a lot of those this week.

I find the story about the Icelandic Phallological Museum to be quite amusing. The guy has a collection of 261 penises from 90 different species. He apparently doesn’t have a human penis yet, but has had several men offer to donate theirs once they no longer require it.

Then there’s this article about a Canadian woman was having some rather rough and unusual sexual fun with her partner and ended up on three years probation. He asked her to carve a love heart into his chest. She slipped and punctured his actual heart. Now I certainly can’t imagine wanting to do that or have it done to me but the woman was charged with assault and the article implies her sentence was one of the “light” ones that you get when you plead guilty instead of trying to get off. Given that the guy had ASKED her to do it and the injury part was an accident, isn’t assault a little bit harsh? It was a consensual activity between two adults that had an unfortunate result. So can anyone who injures themselves accidentally during sex now charge their partner with assault? Sorry, but that just seems ludicrous. Anyone who engages in vigorous (and sometimes rough) physical activities should expect that occasionally you’ll get a bump or scratch you weren’t expecting. It’s a part of the game. If you don’t like it, don’t play.

Further to that topic, here’s a more lighthearted article about sexual related injuries :) Though this part did give me pause for thought:

“Six patients presented with a precipitous decrease in vision in one eye with no apparent predisposing factors. After obtaining a careful history, each patient revealed that he or she had been engaging in rigorous sexual activity…”
In these cases, the patients popped blood vessels in their eyes, perhaps from screaming during orgasm.

But then you get stories like the one about a young couple who were killed in India. And this is the kind that just makes me wonder why? Their crime? Being in love, and wanting to spend their lives together, basically. They had loved each other since school age, yet she’d still been forced into an arranged marriage with another man. To make their “crime” worse, it’s a taboo to marry someone from the same village as you, and the guy was from a lower caste than the girl. I think what is most difficult for me to understand is that her own parents don’t see anything wrong with the way she was killed, and her father even confessed to having a part in it and is PROUD that he did it. How could you do that to your child? How can that family be so different to me? My most sincere hope for my children is that they grow up and find someone that they love and who loves them. Yet that guy sees that as so terrible that it is worth taking his own child’s life. I really hope that the couple and their unborn child (she was 22 weeks pregnant when she was murdered) are together now in another world where no one challenges their right to love.

I wish that this world could be that way.

things of interest