There's a popular worship song which has a line in it that sticks. I was reminded of it this morning by a friend who blogged about a particularly difficult situation she's facing. The line is "You give and take away, you give and take away, still my heart will say: Lord, blessed be your name."
Two years on, I still can't sing that line. When it comes up in worship, I think about Zoe, and I wonder. I couldn't bless God then, and I've only recently got to the point of being able to that God is still good. When I do, I still feel the gravity of what I'm actually saying - that even though God chose to let Zoe die, even though he took her away, even though he broke my heart forever, even though he permits horrible atrocities to be perpetrated against the innocents (children) he is still good.
The fact that others seem to be able to sing that line so glibly sometimes annoys me, because it seems they obviously have either forgotten, or never really experienced, a Job* moment, or that the suffering of children and those who love them is of little consequence.
I don't think there are any answers to the problem of pain, despite what C.S. Lewis and other luminaries say. It just is. And God is still good. I know people think Christians are crazy for believing that in the face of the suffering and cruelty in the world. Yet, in the words of Peter - Jesus has the words of life, to whom else shall we go?
* Job is a character in the Bible who lost all his children (if memory serves - 12) in a natural disaster, suffered a horrible skin disease (so much so that he was the outcast from society) and lost all his possessions. Even his wife gave up on him. He sat in the dirt and blamed God. Yet, he was still able to say that God was still sovreign and therefore worthy of praise. After quite a long time, and an encounter with God, he was healed and got on with his life - recovering his wealth and having another 12 kids. I often wonder though whether he ever stopped grieving his first brood, or wondering why God allowed it to happen. We, as the readers, are told the reason, but he is never given that luxury.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
Bob the Builder
Can we do it? Yes, we can!
That's the way I feel this evening. Why? Well, I actually managed to DELEGATE some work. By 4pm this afternoon I had managed to finish ALL my marking AND entering said marks into my own spreadsheet, the Life Sciences spreadsheet and the school's mark system AND writing all my comments for all my kids. This is no mean feat, let me tell you. Everyone else has a whole extra week to finish some of it plus ANOTHER week to finish the rest of it. This means I am TWO weeks ahead of everyone else.
What I didn't manage to finish was the moderation. While moderation has little to no bearing on the school, the education department has started jumping up and down about how we HAVE to do internal moderation of all our work - from projects to tests and exams. We have to moderate it before it's printed (does it match their standards on about 6 different areas), and then afterwards again, AND then we have to moderate 10% of all the learners' actual scripts/ work. We have to be able to prove that we've done this.
(Of course, there are no real consequences if we don't do all this, except that they can refuse to sign us off from each year's process if we don't. However, the principle of moderation is a good one, one I agree with, even though it's a lot of PT.)
So, the only thing I haven't finished sorting out is the moderation process for this set of exams. BUT - at 4pm today, I took the executive decision to delegate this to two or three other staff members and go home. I'm very proud of myself. Me. Miss I-have-to-do-it-all-myself-because-it's-my-responsibility-and-God-forbid-anyone-should-be-able-to-point-a-finger-and-accuse-me-of-slacking-just-because-I'm-pregnant. Yes folks, she CAN be taught. Just call me Bob. And what's even better is that I'm not AT ALL stressed or worrying about whether they will do it 'right'.
I'm really quite impressed with myself that, now that my maternity leave has officially begun, I've actually managed to disconnect from work. It's NOT MY PROBLEM anymore. (It will be so again in a few months, and I'll probably kick myself then, but why borrow trouble from 5 months' time?) No, now I have only 2 goals to achieve.
1) Get the house unpacked and as sorted as I can by next weekend.
2) Give birth to a live son.
I think I've mentally found the space called 'work-life balance'. Who would have thunk it?! What a blessing.
So - now I will have plenty of time (ha ha ha!!) to blog and email and twitter and 'do' lunch and be a Mommy. Speaking of which, Nellie asked me yesterday: "Can you play with me or do you have work to do?" Hmm... profound, and scary. I know that these past 2 weeks I've been working flat out to get all my work done. Now it's time to be a proper Mommy. Starting tomorrow morning with taking her and the dogs out - weather permitting (OMW did we have a thunderstorm and a half last night - the dog was desperately trying to get under the duvet with me!).
Can I do it? Yes, I can. I can switch off from work and switch onto my life.
Can I do it? Yes, I can. I have. I have managed to get to this time without losing this baby, despite everything I have been feeling physically.
Can I do it? Yes, I can. I will. I will be a good Mommy to Nellie and a good wife to Graeme again.
Can I do it? Yes, I can. Not because I'm Superwoman. Not because I'm Mrs Incredible. Quite the opposite: because I'm finally able to recognise my frailty and humanity.
And because God is faithful and good and generous. I couldn't have got here without him.
That's the way I feel this evening. Why? Well, I actually managed to DELEGATE some work. By 4pm this afternoon I had managed to finish ALL my marking AND entering said marks into my own spreadsheet, the Life Sciences spreadsheet and the school's mark system AND writing all my comments for all my kids. This is no mean feat, let me tell you. Everyone else has a whole extra week to finish some of it plus ANOTHER week to finish the rest of it. This means I am TWO weeks ahead of everyone else.
What I didn't manage to finish was the moderation. While moderation has little to no bearing on the school, the education department has started jumping up and down about how we HAVE to do internal moderation of all our work - from projects to tests and exams. We have to moderate it before it's printed (does it match their standards on about 6 different areas), and then afterwards again, AND then we have to moderate 10% of all the learners' actual scripts/ work. We have to be able to prove that we've done this.
(Of course, there are no real consequences if we don't do all this, except that they can refuse to sign us off from each year's process if we don't. However, the principle of moderation is a good one, one I agree with, even though it's a lot of PT.)
So, the only thing I haven't finished sorting out is the moderation process for this set of exams. BUT - at 4pm today, I took the executive decision to delegate this to two or three other staff members and go home. I'm very proud of myself. Me. Miss I-have-to-do-it-all-myself-because-it's-my-responsibility-and-God-forbid-anyone-should-be-able-to-point-a-finger-and-accuse-me-of-slacking-just-because-I'm-pregnant. Yes folks, she CAN be taught. Just call me Bob. And what's even better is that I'm not AT ALL stressed or worrying about whether they will do it 'right'.
I'm really quite impressed with myself that, now that my maternity leave has officially begun, I've actually managed to disconnect from work. It's NOT MY PROBLEM anymore. (It will be so again in a few months, and I'll probably kick myself then, but why borrow trouble from 5 months' time?) No, now I have only 2 goals to achieve.
1) Get the house unpacked and as sorted as I can by next weekend.
2) Give birth to a live son.
I think I've mentally found the space called 'work-life balance'. Who would have thunk it?! What a blessing.
So - now I will have plenty of time (ha ha ha!!) to blog and email and twitter and 'do' lunch and be a Mommy. Speaking of which, Nellie asked me yesterday: "Can you play with me or do you have work to do?" Hmm... profound, and scary. I know that these past 2 weeks I've been working flat out to get all my work done. Now it's time to be a proper Mommy. Starting tomorrow morning with taking her and the dogs out - weather permitting (OMW did we have a thunderstorm and a half last night - the dog was desperately trying to get under the duvet with me!).
Can I do it? Yes, I can. I can switch off from work and switch onto my life.
Can I do it? Yes, I can. I have. I have managed to get to this time without losing this baby, despite everything I have been feeling physically.
Can I do it? Yes, I can. I will. I will be a good Mommy to Nellie and a good wife to Graeme again.
Can I do it? Yes, I can. Not because I'm Superwoman. Not because I'm Mrs Incredible. Quite the opposite: because I'm finally able to recognise my frailty and humanity.
And because God is faithful and good and generous. I couldn't have got here without him.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Child Protection Week
This week is National Child Protection Week, with the theme this year being 'Caring communities protect children'. Therefore, today is specifically dedicated to the missing children of South Africa.
Many of you are probably aware of Madeleine McCann, the little British girl who went missing on 3 May 2007 in Portugal, while her parents had dinner about 50m away. She's still missing. What continues to astound me is the amount of publicity this little girl & her disappearance get. There are between 1500-1700 children who go missing every year in SA, whom we seldom hear about, and who certainly never get the same amount of publicity. Something doesn't sit right with me about that picture.
While I don't wish to detract from the publicity Madeleine gets, why is it that she gets it? Why is it that I don't know about the missing children from Cape Town? Why is Madeleine news, but not the children in my own city? Is she somehow more important than them? Is it because her parents are probably more wealthy than the average parents in Cape Town? Is it because life in SA is held in such low regard?
I have to say that I get this gut reaction every time I see something referring to Madeleine, something ugly that rises up inside me. The fact that Madeleine continues to get publicity and these children don't feels like something from the Apartheid era, where one group of people benefited at the expense of others. I wonder how many other missing children have had resources diverted from their search in order to focus on Madeleine's? I'm not saying it has been, just that I wonder whether it has. There is no doubt that high publicity cases get more resources than low publicity ones. Of course, everyone agrees that's wrong.
Every case should receive the same amount of resourcing, but we can all see how a foreigner's missing child would attract unwelcome publicity; thus, we can all see how such a case would receive more funding, more staffing, more resourcing in every respect. I just find it disgusting that it happens. If Janel were to go missing, I wouldn't have the money to publicise her disappearance the way that Maddy's parents have. I wish I could. I don't fault them for doing so - if I had the money I would also try to raise awareness in every country I could around the world. I just think it's disgusting that the 1500 missing kids in SA don't get the same level of publicity. Aren't they just as important to their parents as Maddy is to hers?
On a tangent, I read a news story over the weekend about a woman in East London (a small city in SA) who murdered her 8 & 10 year old daughters last week. She strangled them with rope. Some time before she did though, she rang a friend to tell her what she was going to do. The friend alerted the police, but they were unable to find her. What I found horrifying though was that, as the mother strangled the younger one, the older one phoned her mother's best friend to tell her what was going on, and to ask for help. Neither the friend nor the police were able to get to them in time. Can you imagine that? You get a phone call from your best friend's kid screaming that her mother is trying to kill her, and although you do everything in your power, that child still dies. Can you imagine that child's terror? I felt physically ill after reading that story. The mother tried to commit suicide after killing her kids, but the police got to her in time. She's in hospital now. No-one knows why she did it.
There's another high profile case in the news at the moment about an SA cop who shot both his kids and is now pleading temporary insanity as a result from work-related stress.
To kill your own kids.... I don't know. Something has to be seriously wrong (with you as a person and as a parent) for you to do that.
I guess the good thing about having a Child Protection Week is that it raises awareness about the issue. For example, I learnt today that, in SA, if your child is missing, the police would rather you report it to them immediately, before you conduct your own investigation. There is no 24hr waiting period here as there is in other countries. Police are aware that if the average parental search for a missing child takes 4-6 hrs, the child may already have been taken out of the country by the time they are alerted. They would rather launch an immediate investigation and have the benefit of those 4 hours than risk losing the child forever. I don't often say this of government organisations, but how eminently sensible!
The other thing I heard on the radio today is the plea for South Africans to take much more of an ubuntu approach to children. If you see children wandering around (especially during school hours), whether they are your child's friends or not, whether you know them or not, take an interest. Treat every child as if it was your own. Stick your nose in. Get involved. It may just save a life.
Many of you are probably aware of Madeleine McCann, the little British girl who went missing on 3 May 2007 in Portugal, while her parents had dinner about 50m away. She's still missing. What continues to astound me is the amount of publicity this little girl & her disappearance get. There are between 1500-1700 children who go missing every year in SA, whom we seldom hear about, and who certainly never get the same amount of publicity. Something doesn't sit right with me about that picture.
While I don't wish to detract from the publicity Madeleine gets, why is it that she gets it? Why is it that I don't know about the missing children from Cape Town? Why is Madeleine news, but not the children in my own city? Is she somehow more important than them? Is it because her parents are probably more wealthy than the average parents in Cape Town? Is it because life in SA is held in such low regard?
I have to say that I get this gut reaction every time I see something referring to Madeleine, something ugly that rises up inside me. The fact that Madeleine continues to get publicity and these children don't feels like something from the Apartheid era, where one group of people benefited at the expense of others. I wonder how many other missing children have had resources diverted from their search in order to focus on Madeleine's? I'm not saying it has been, just that I wonder whether it has. There is no doubt that high publicity cases get more resources than low publicity ones. Of course, everyone agrees that's wrong.
Every case should receive the same amount of resourcing, but we can all see how a foreigner's missing child would attract unwelcome publicity; thus, we can all see how such a case would receive more funding, more staffing, more resourcing in every respect. I just find it disgusting that it happens. If Janel were to go missing, I wouldn't have the money to publicise her disappearance the way that Maddy's parents have. I wish I could. I don't fault them for doing so - if I had the money I would also try to raise awareness in every country I could around the world. I just think it's disgusting that the 1500 missing kids in SA don't get the same level of publicity. Aren't they just as important to their parents as Maddy is to hers?
On a tangent, I read a news story over the weekend about a woman in East London (a small city in SA) who murdered her 8 & 10 year old daughters last week. She strangled them with rope. Some time before she did though, she rang a friend to tell her what she was going to do. The friend alerted the police, but they were unable to find her. What I found horrifying though was that, as the mother strangled the younger one, the older one phoned her mother's best friend to tell her what was going on, and to ask for help. Neither the friend nor the police were able to get to them in time. Can you imagine that? You get a phone call from your best friend's kid screaming that her mother is trying to kill her, and although you do everything in your power, that child still dies. Can you imagine that child's terror? I felt physically ill after reading that story. The mother tried to commit suicide after killing her kids, but the police got to her in time. She's in hospital now. No-one knows why she did it.
There's another high profile case in the news at the moment about an SA cop who shot both his kids and is now pleading temporary insanity as a result from work-related stress.
To kill your own kids.... I don't know. Something has to be seriously wrong (with you as a person and as a parent) for you to do that.
I guess the good thing about having a Child Protection Week is that it raises awareness about the issue. For example, I learnt today that, in SA, if your child is missing, the police would rather you report it to them immediately, before you conduct your own investigation. There is no 24hr waiting period here as there is in other countries. Police are aware that if the average parental search for a missing child takes 4-6 hrs, the child may already have been taken out of the country by the time they are alerted. They would rather launch an immediate investigation and have the benefit of those 4 hours than risk losing the child forever. I don't often say this of government organisations, but how eminently sensible!
The other thing I heard on the radio today is the plea for South Africans to take much more of an ubuntu approach to children. If you see children wandering around (especially during school hours), whether they are your child's friends or not, whether you know them or not, take an interest. Treat every child as if it was your own. Stick your nose in. Get involved. It may just save a life.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Are we there yet?
HEALTH WARNING: this is going to be a venting post.
I feel like the kid who, sitting in the back seat, constantly asks" "Are we there yet?" when you're on a long car journey. I just want to BE THERE already.
I'm fed up of all the boxes everywhere. I'm fed up of having to live out of them and around them, and not being able to find my stuff. I'm fed up of the chaos. I'm fed up of having contractors in my house. I'm fed up of the noise and dust and mess. I'm fed up of not having enough shelves and space to put all our stuff (and no, I don't want to get rid of it all...). I'm fed up of Alyssa being on the verge of panic that we're about to abandon her every time we move a box or a piece of furniture. I'm fed up of Baggins charging out the door (and into the road) every time we open it. I'm fed up of not having blinds up in our room, or proper light fittings in some of the rooms. I'm fed up of the new stuff in the house still having teething problems. I'm fed up of things not just being the way I want them. I'm fed up of the garden being such a tip.
As far as being pregnant goes, I'm also feeling hugely fed up about that. I'm fed up of being unable to bend over, lift things, push things, pull things. I'm fed up of getting severe heartburn the moment I even vaguely bend at the waist. I'm fed up of these blasted contractions that do NOTHING (if they were at least proper ones, and achieving something, that would be different... all these Braxton-Hicks ones do is cause me severe discomfort or pain). I'm fed up of having a bladder the size of a pea. I'm fed up of getting leg/ foot cramps in the middle of the night. I'm fed up of being unable to turn over in bed at night without pain/ severe discomfort. I'm fed up of not sleeping well. I'm fed up of having pelvic pain (my body has been producing relaxin since the beginning of the 2nd trimester, instead of only starting to produce it now' so as a result, my ligaments have all relaxed FAR too much and my pelvis has come apart - and yes, it's as sore as it sounds) and being unable to walk far or easily. I'm fed up of having to inject myself every day and take other medication every day. I'm fed up of not being able to get comfortable in any position (standing/ sitting/ lying down) for any length of time. I'm also fed up of the worrying that this baby is going to die and the frequent dead baby thoughts.
As far as work goes, I'm fed up of marking. I'm fed up of being fed up about marking. I'm fed up of having to deal with stupid kids and their discipline issues. I'm fed up of having to deal with parents of kids I have to discipline. I'm fed up of having to be there at 7.45am. I'm fed up of getting no marking done because of the rubbish I have to deal with & loose ends I have to tie up.
Please? Please can we just GET THERE already?
(And yes, I know it will all be worth it in the end - the house will be lovely & the baby will be fine. Knowing what the end or future result will be - in the case of the house at least - does not make it any easier to go through all this stuff in the present.)
I feel like the kid who, sitting in the back seat, constantly asks" "Are we there yet?" when you're on a long car journey. I just want to BE THERE already.
I'm fed up of all the boxes everywhere. I'm fed up of having to live out of them and around them, and not being able to find my stuff. I'm fed up of the chaos. I'm fed up of having contractors in my house. I'm fed up of the noise and dust and mess. I'm fed up of not having enough shelves and space to put all our stuff (and no, I don't want to get rid of it all...). I'm fed up of Alyssa being on the verge of panic that we're about to abandon her every time we move a box or a piece of furniture. I'm fed up of Baggins charging out the door (and into the road) every time we open it. I'm fed up of not having blinds up in our room, or proper light fittings in some of the rooms. I'm fed up of the new stuff in the house still having teething problems. I'm fed up of things not just being the way I want them. I'm fed up of the garden being such a tip.
As far as being pregnant goes, I'm also feeling hugely fed up about that. I'm fed up of being unable to bend over, lift things, push things, pull things. I'm fed up of getting severe heartburn the moment I even vaguely bend at the waist. I'm fed up of these blasted contractions that do NOTHING (if they were at least proper ones, and achieving something, that would be different... all these Braxton-Hicks ones do is cause me severe discomfort or pain). I'm fed up of having a bladder the size of a pea. I'm fed up of getting leg/ foot cramps in the middle of the night. I'm fed up of being unable to turn over in bed at night without pain/ severe discomfort. I'm fed up of not sleeping well. I'm fed up of having pelvic pain (my body has been producing relaxin since the beginning of the 2nd trimester, instead of only starting to produce it now' so as a result, my ligaments have all relaxed FAR too much and my pelvis has come apart - and yes, it's as sore as it sounds) and being unable to walk far or easily. I'm fed up of having to inject myself every day and take other medication every day. I'm fed up of not being able to get comfortable in any position (standing/ sitting/ lying down) for any length of time. I'm also fed up of the worrying that this baby is going to die and the frequent dead baby thoughts.
As far as work goes, I'm fed up of marking. I'm fed up of being fed up about marking. I'm fed up of having to deal with stupid kids and their discipline issues. I'm fed up of having to deal with parents of kids I have to discipline. I'm fed up of having to be there at 7.45am. I'm fed up of getting no marking done because of the rubbish I have to deal with & loose ends I have to tie up.
Please? Please can we just GET THERE already?
(And yes, I know it will all be worth it in the end - the house will be lovely & the baby will be fine. Knowing what the end or future result will be - in the case of the house at least - does not make it any easier to go through all this stuff in the present.)
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Glorious
Taken on my phone about 20 minutes ago, from outside our new house. We are SOO going to build a deck up on the garage roof in due course to take full advantage of the views we have!
Baby 3
I've had the last gynae appointment before baby boy is due to arrive. I never thought I would get here, but here we are.
At present, baby boy is slightly bigger than he should be. His measurements sit around week 35, but I'm only at week 34. He's currently about 2.5kg, so he should be around 3kg when he's born, which is a good weight. It'll also be the biggest baby I've given birth to. Hmm... Nellie was 2.2kg and Zoe was 2.8kg. It's both good and bad news: Good news because it means he should be a bit stronger and more able to cope; bad news because oversized baby boys often experience complications during or post birth.
At the moment, the other good news is that my cervix is very closed. Despite all the contractions I've been having there has been no effect on the cervix, so he's still sitting very securely. This is good, but if it's still the case in 2 weeks time, then we may have a problem. If my cervix doesn't "ripen" somewhat, then I may not respond to the induction, in which case we will have to have a caesar. I'm not looking forward to that option, but as I said to the gynae: I'd rather have him out and alive than leave him in there and lose him in a few weeks' time!
We've also talked about starting the induction a day early, to give it more time to work properly, in the hopes that we then won't have to go the route of a caesar.
The number of contractions I'm having though has brought home the fact that he will be here VERY soon, and I'm getting more and more excited about that. I'm also getting more and more stressed about the things that still need to be done in the house so that when I come home from hospital I can come home to an ordered home.
But before then, I have piles of work to finish up, so let me go and do that...
At present, baby boy is slightly bigger than he should be. His measurements sit around week 35, but I'm only at week 34. He's currently about 2.5kg, so he should be around 3kg when he's born, which is a good weight. It'll also be the biggest baby I've given birth to. Hmm... Nellie was 2.2kg and Zoe was 2.8kg. It's both good and bad news: Good news because it means he should be a bit stronger and more able to cope; bad news because oversized baby boys often experience complications during or post birth.
At the moment, the other good news is that my cervix is very closed. Despite all the contractions I've been having there has been no effect on the cervix, so he's still sitting very securely. This is good, but if it's still the case in 2 weeks time, then we may have a problem. If my cervix doesn't "ripen" somewhat, then I may not respond to the induction, in which case we will have to have a caesar. I'm not looking forward to that option, but as I said to the gynae: I'd rather have him out and alive than leave him in there and lose him in a few weeks' time!
We've also talked about starting the induction a day early, to give it more time to work properly, in the hopes that we then won't have to go the route of a caesar.
The number of contractions I'm having though has brought home the fact that he will be here VERY soon, and I'm getting more and more excited about that. I'm also getting more and more stressed about the things that still need to be done in the house so that when I come home from hospital I can come home to an ordered home.
But before then, I have piles of work to finish up, so let me go and do that...
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Moving update
You know how, when you're about to move jobs, you reach the point where you just don't care anymore about the current job. You are just so OVER it already, and SO ready to move on? Well, I'm there. I am SO OVER school at the moment. I just don't care about the fact that I still have all my marking and comments to do. I really, truly, honestly, don't care. For me, this is quite an unusual situation, because I always care. I'm the type who will come back in after I've left to make sure that things are done properly. Not this time. No way, mate. I'm OUTTA here.
Except I still have just over a week to go. And PILES of marking to do. And I have to care, whether I want to or not, because I'm coming back to this job. This is not the end for me. Sigh.
Part of the reason is that this moving house story has really taken the stuffing out of me. I am so mentally exhausted by the whole deal. I've been very good, actually, about not picking up heavy stuff, about just directing other people to do stuff. Mentally though, I'm finished. All the decision making is almost more than I can deal with.
What's making it worse is that our kitchen still isn't finished. I'm hoping they will finish tomorrow, or at worst on Friday. Until then, we still have piles of boxes that need unpacking, and I don't know where my mugs/ plates/ bowls/ washing powder are. I like a clear space to live in; it's important for my mental state. I'm therefore finding all the semi-ordered chaos stressful to live in the midst of.
Over the weekend our fireplace goes in. I'm also hoping to make a decision about desks & workspaces. Then I can start thinking about shelving/ bookcases and sorting out the books and files. Next week some time we should get the blinds in our bedroom, burglar bars and security gates. That's basically all we're still waiting for.
I'm really hoping though that before I head off to hospital we will be completely sorted. I really don't want to be living with that 20:80 rule (the last 20% of the work takes 80% of the time). I don't need that sort of stress with a new baby in the house.
In the meantime, we're also having to deal with the stress of others. Nellie seems to be adapting well, but still has a few hiccups every now and then and is obviously not yet feeling settled again (unsurprisingly). Worse though, is the dogs, Alyssa in particular. She is COMPLETELY stressed out. Baggins seems to be settling down much more quickly, but (I guess because she's a rescue dog) she is not really settling. She is underfoot all the time, and will jump up at you the moment you so much as look in her direction. She is desperate for affirmation and assurance that we're not about to abandon her. I feel terrible for her, but at the same time, it is incredibly annoying and frustrating.
Actually, yesterday was the first time I noticed Alyssa behaving vaguely calmly. While I was sorting stuff out in the garage she actually lay down and watched me (as opposed to being underfoot all the time). The minute you walk around the corner though, she is right there with you, keeping an eye on you, making sure you don't leave her. Poor thing! It must be terrible to live with that sort of fear all day, every day.
The house itself is growing on me though. There are lots of little niggles - light switches in places I think are impractical, not enough plug points, etc, etc, but all in all, I think what we've done has made it a lovely house. I think we'll be happy here in the long run, which makes me really happy. I don't want to move again for a very long time (which is probably 5 years for me!).
I got a lovely email the other day, which made me stop and take stock, particularly in the light of all the things I want to see sorted and have been complaining about.
"I am thankful for:
So although I am VERY tired of this move now, and VERY ready for it all to be over, I am also very grateful for the space we are in. Here's to many happy years ahead of us here.
Except I still have just over a week to go. And PILES of marking to do. And I have to care, whether I want to or not, because I'm coming back to this job. This is not the end for me. Sigh.
Part of the reason is that this moving house story has really taken the stuffing out of me. I am so mentally exhausted by the whole deal. I've been very good, actually, about not picking up heavy stuff, about just directing other people to do stuff. Mentally though, I'm finished. All the decision making is almost more than I can deal with.
What's making it worse is that our kitchen still isn't finished. I'm hoping they will finish tomorrow, or at worst on Friday. Until then, we still have piles of boxes that need unpacking, and I don't know where my mugs/ plates/ bowls/ washing powder are. I like a clear space to live in; it's important for my mental state. I'm therefore finding all the semi-ordered chaos stressful to live in the midst of.
Over the weekend our fireplace goes in. I'm also hoping to make a decision about desks & workspaces. Then I can start thinking about shelving/ bookcases and sorting out the books and files. Next week some time we should get the blinds in our bedroom, burglar bars and security gates. That's basically all we're still waiting for.
I'm really hoping though that before I head off to hospital we will be completely sorted. I really don't want to be living with that 20:80 rule (the last 20% of the work takes 80% of the time). I don't need that sort of stress with a new baby in the house.
In the meantime, we're also having to deal with the stress of others. Nellie seems to be adapting well, but still has a few hiccups every now and then and is obviously not yet feeling settled again (unsurprisingly). Worse though, is the dogs, Alyssa in particular. She is COMPLETELY stressed out. Baggins seems to be settling down much more quickly, but (I guess because she's a rescue dog) she is not really settling. She is underfoot all the time, and will jump up at you the moment you so much as look in her direction. She is desperate for affirmation and assurance that we're not about to abandon her. I feel terrible for her, but at the same time, it is incredibly annoying and frustrating.
Actually, yesterday was the first time I noticed Alyssa behaving vaguely calmly. While I was sorting stuff out in the garage she actually lay down and watched me (as opposed to being underfoot all the time). The minute you walk around the corner though, she is right there with you, keeping an eye on you, making sure you don't leave her. Poor thing! It must be terrible to live with that sort of fear all day, every day.
The house itself is growing on me though. There are lots of little niggles - light switches in places I think are impractical, not enough plug points, etc, etc, but all in all, I think what we've done has made it a lovely house. I think we'll be happy here in the long run, which makes me really happy. I don't want to move again for a very long time (which is probably 5 years for me!).
I got a lovely email the other day, which made me stop and take stock, particularly in the light of all the things I want to see sorted and have been complaining about.
"I am thankful for:
- the wife who who says it's hot dogs tonight because she is home with me and not out with someone else.
- the husband who is home being a couch potato because he is home with me and not out at bars.
- the teenager who is complaining about doing the dishes because she is home and not out on the streets.
- the taxes I pay because it means I am employed.
- the mess to clean up after a party because it means I have friends.
- the clothes that fit a little to snugly because it means I have enough to eat.
- my shadow that watches me work because it means I am out in the sunshine.
- a lawn that needs mowing, windows that need cleaning, a gutter that needs fixing, because it means I have a home.
- all the complaining I hear about the government because it means we have freedom of speech.
- the parking spot I find at the far end of the parking lot because it means I am capable of walking and have been blessed with transportation.
- for my huge heating bill because it means I am warm.
- the lady behind me in church who sings off key because it means I can hear.
- the pile of laundry and ironing because it means I have clothes to wear.
- weariness and aching muscles at the end of the day because it means I have been capable of working hard.
- the alarm that goes off in the early hours of the morning because it means I am alive."
So although I am VERY tired of this move now, and VERY ready for it all to be over, I am also very grateful for the space we are in. Here's to many happy years ahead of us here.
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