Saturday 9th May
I was up bright and early at the crack of arse today for my long over due 8.30am hair appointment. Yet another benefit of where we now live is I can walk to my hairdressers as she's situated in a little cluster of shops a few 100 metres up the road. So I left Greg home with Thing One and Thing Two and off I skipped for 90 minutes of being a grown up and reading magazines. Today I learnt the Megan Markle planned this whole thing all along, Adele doesn't want to be skinny, just healthy, that Kim Kardashian is just as much of an epic twat that I had always thought she was and that since COVID, the average middle income earner is now drinking far more than is healthy. But I did screen shot a nice recipe for Massaman and Pumpkin Curry Soup. Oh and I got my roots done and an inch off my hair.
As tomorrow is both my Birthday and Mothers Day, I declared earlier this week, that I wanted today to myself. Much like those poor sods whose birthdays are close to Christmas, if you have a birthday on Mothers Day you dip out on that second lie in or day of being spoilt because it all blends into one. Ironically, if I still lived in the UK, where Mothers Day is March, it wouldn't be an issue, but here in Australia its May and every few years its on my exact birthday. Bummer.
Sporting a new haircut and a full face of make up for the first time in forever, I hit the partially open shops simply to wander around a deserted shopping centre in peace and quiet. Turns out every fucker in the Rockingham region of Western Australia had much the same idea. I should have turned around at the point I was driving round and round the car park looking for a space, but it was my one day to myself so I persevered. When I got into the mall it was like Christmas, only worse. At Christmas everyone is in the shops buying shit and then moving to the next shop, but because we still have limits of only certain amounts of people in a shop at any one time, every shop had a queue streaming many many people backwards out its doors. I got to 60 outside Target before I got bored and gave up counting. Not 60 individuals, but 60 couples, families, groups. Now I'm the first to admit no one likes a "Lockdown Moaner" who harps on about being out and about and witnessing others being out and about and how they are somehow breaking rules that don't apply to said Moaner. But, really, do you need to take your 4 kids and husband with you to K Mart in times like this? Does it really take a family of 4, 5, 6 or more to buy that set of towels or juicer? Incidentally, lots of people had new towels and juicers tucked under their arms.
I'm assuming a lot of Mums are getting towels and juicers tomorrow. We are such a lucky sex arn't we ladies?
To counter balance the horror and chaos of the shops, I did however, have two lovely encounters with older ladies who stopped me to tell me my hair looked amazing and to ask who did the colour. Both patted their extensive greying roots and said how excited they were to get to the hairdressers soon. I have to say I felt a tiny bit radical and nouveau for being one of the first to get my hair done, especially now my sparkly blonde barnet was being publicly coveted by the elderly. How very forward and advanced of me! I guess its the middle aged housewife's version of being the first to get the new I Phone in these strange times.
The evening was pretty laid back. Greg and George took the short walk to get a take out curry from the restaurant that is now pretty much on our doorstep. In our new location we have the beach, kite surfing shop, hairdressers, curry house, coffee shop, patisserie, health food shop, yoga studio, mini mart, bottle shop, post office and pharmacy all with in 200 metres of our front door. In a post COVID summer its going to be fantastic. A bit like Home and Away but with a family of dysfunctional ex pats as the main characters. Anyway George had a real curry for the first time ever and I'm not sure any of it even touched the sides of his mouth. Lets just say we have a convert on our hands.
Sunday 10th May
I awoke as usual with Alices face inches from mine, while Greg was already up making me a cup of tea and George was gathering up my gifts. All three of my favourite people then sat on my bed and sang me a beautiful rendition of "Happy Birthday Mumgina", complete with "Hip Hip Mumgina" repeated twice at the end for good measure. Alice then breathed in my face and said "Smell my breath it stinks" and proceeded to open my presents for me. What more could I ask for?
Facebook Post Mothers Day 2014
So Mothers Day began with George telling me that Daddy would be in with my breakfast shortly but in the meantime he had saved up a fart for me. He then gifted me said fart. Mothers Day ended with him asking me to check his ass as it hurt and me removing a piece of a board game from his butt hole. Life in the Twilight Zone continues as normal it seems.
Clearly in six years very little has changed for Mothers Day, except of course Alice can now add her own individual spin on the day.
Things ended with fish and chips for tea, George having a mammoth hissy fit because he refused to eat the yoghurts with the shorter sell buy date (they were smaller than the new pack and therefore not suitable to his needs), Alice decided bedtime just wasn't a process she was willing to participate in so just lay on the lounge floor screaming "No go bed" and me storming off to my room telling everyone they were "arseholes" and they could do as they bloody well liked because I was officially "off shift".
Monday 11th May
A day for partial celebration as I have one child back in full time education. Whether he is actually receiving an education whilst at school is still up for debate, but the fact is I have one less child in a tiny house for at least some of the day.
My bedroom no longer smells of death. So far I have put off adding any nice smells to counteract the stench of decomposition because it simply added an extra layer rather than masking the smell. I learnt this early on in the process and should you ever find yourself in a similar situation, its worth knowing that the smell of rotting flesh is actually far worse when teamed with Vanilla, or Lavender or just about any Aftershave or Perfume you can lay your hands on.
In a case of perfect timing, one of my Birthday gifts from a lovely friend was a big coconut and lime candle and some of those diffuser stick things that you put in scented oil. I thought it might be time to try and cover the last of the lingering fumes and its done the trick nicely. I now have a pleasant smelling (if freezing cold) bedroom.
Some other interesting facts have come to light about the Shit Shack as we slowly workout just what we are in for in the coming 11 months (we are one month into our 12 month sentence already). Firstly we have some interesting electrical issues which require a carefully orchestrated dance of appliances. Unless we want to constantly trip switches, we cant use the tumble dryer when any heating is on. We can use the kettle if one heater is on but not two. We cant have two heaters on if anyone wants to use the hair dryer, but we can have the kettle on. We can sometimes have the tumble dryer on and use the kettle but not always. If we want a cup of tea, need to heat the house and our clothes drying all at once then we are screwed. When summer comes the heater issues will just be replaced with a new player in the game, electric fans. There are many other equations that we are still trying to work out and Greg hopes to have some sort of Shit Shack Electrical Algorithm completed shortly.
The house is not at all level. Things roll off side boards and tables and pots and pans slip off our portable stove tops if you dont hold them.
Hot water is also providing new challenges that I don't remember having to deal with since I was a child. The boiler holds a fairly small amount of hot water but if managed correctly its enough. However, you cant have the washing machine on if you need to wash up and you cant wash up if someone is in the shower. In fact you cant do a lot of things if someone is trying to shower ie flush the toilet, run the kitchen tap to fill the kettle, have the washing machine on or wash your hands. All these things steal either the cold or hot water from the shower. Of course the opportunity to do this to George deliberately is proving too much for Greg to resist and as such shower times can be a lot like I imagine they were in Norman Bates house.
Also Greg has a cold. Which means soon Alice will have a cold. Which means things will turn to shit very quickly and her return to school next week is now in jeopardy. Fuck, fuck and thrice fuck.
Tuesday 12th May
In anticipation of Alice's return to school next week I thought it wise to pre empt her teachers about the wonderful new development of what appears to be Tourettes and briefly explain our freak accident. If I don't its going to look like I took her out of school and she spent 8 weeks doing nothing but learn how to swear and call every one a "Vagina". Yes these are the types of meetings I really do find myself having these days. I had a similar scenario a few years back where I foolishly trusted multiple people in authority who told me that Alice needed to know the correct names for anatomy and I should begin explaining to her about what was and wasn't appropriate touching. Now in all seriousness I know just how vital this is and I fully understand the dangers that Alice will face her entire life in this regard. If you happen to be that particular type of pond life that abuses children, then what could be more appealing than a low IQ, overly trusting, overly affectionate child who can't articulate themselves well and most likely won't be believed?
But of course on the flip side we have, as I have previously mentioned, The Alice Factor. For those that don't remember, this is a phenomenon where normal rules don't exist, opposites often win out and nothing makes sense. Its like an alternative universe of nonsense. My extensive experience with The Alice Factor, understandably made me very very nervous about giving her any information that could backfire.
We started with "Penis". A Penis is a good a place as any to begin I thought, seeing as they are the biggest trouble makers and culprits in most things. I explained that boys have them, girls don't, that we won't call it a "Winkle" anymore, its now a "Penis" and we never EVER EVER touch one, even if someone asks you to.
Where was this information when I was a kid????
Anyway soon the cracks in the plan began to show. Firstly Alice stopped asking if people were boys or girls but changed it to "do they have a penis"?. This was asked loudly whenever we met friends and neighbours. I had to clarify it for all her toys, she'd asked me about people at the supermarket, grandparents on Facetime, her therapists and so on. In fact if you had legs, she wanted to know if you also had a penis.
But then things really got fun. Once Alice had it straight in her head than Men were the most likely people to be armed with a penis, she changed her greetings with all men to "NO" (hand raised in front of her at arms length to signal STOP) "I wont touch your penis"!!!!
The most cringe worthy example of this was whilst attending her 6 monthly check with her pediatrician who I adore and admire greatly, said "Hey Alice, wow you've grown. How are you"? To which the hand came up (and with it my heart sank), she stands firm and announces "NO, Dr Robin. I won't touch your penis" pushes past him and sits down at his desk. Dr Robin tilted his head and gave me the look of "Did I just hear what I think I heard"? and as I waited for the ground to swallow me up I mouthed the words, "Just don't go there". I think the look in my eyes was enough to tell him to let it go and never speak of it again.
So anyway now I find myself arranging a meeting with Alices school to tell them she now shouts "Fuck You" a lot and every one is a "Vagina" of some sort. Oh and she slashed her Hoo Ha open on a plastic tray but I'm really a great parent. So you can imagine my horror and dismay when the Principle sits down and says shes trying to keep up with my blog and asks me how The Shit Shack is coming along. Now I've never been a teenage boy whose Mum has just found his porn stash and wants to talk about it like grown ups, but I think I now know how they might feel.
I tried so hard to look like I was taking it in my stride but my mind is shouting "all that swearing, all those examples of totally inappropriate parenting, omg I cant even remember half of what was in it. I'm doomed".
But then I tried to remember this is exactly what I wanted when I started this blog. To reach the masses. To let people see inside our world. To show that special needs familys might be "weird funny" but we arnt "weird scary". I wanted others in my situation to see there is someone out here who will say out loud what every one else is too scared to. Because Mums like me do get torn down for saying this stuff. My god I get crucified for some of the things I say and write. But its all true, its what I feel and think and no one will shut me up. For every arsehole who sees fit to inbox me about being a bad mother and how I don't love Alice and should be ashamed of myself, I get 30 more thanking me for my honesty and telling me how much its helped someone not feel guilty for simply "feeling" what they do.
As the horror of hearing that my blog was actually doing the rounds amongst the teachers at school (apparently its well received) I slowly came round to the fact that its a good thing. If they like it great, if it helps someone or makes someone laugh then even better. If you don't like it, fine, read something else, but don't bloody inbox me with your hatred.
So to Margaret, the amazing Principle at Alices school, in fact anyone at her school who is shaping her into the amazing human I know she can be, I do hope you are still reading and have reached this episode. I hope you haven't been too offended and I hope I've made you laugh. I am really a rather good mother but I have a child that simply wont follow a single rule that applies in a normal universe. But by now you have probably realised this and between the hours of 9am and 2pm shes your problem not mine. And if she adds "gina" to the end of your name, its a term of endearment, you should be flattered.
Wednesday 13th May
I don't have much enthusiasm to blog today. Alice isnt right. She has a sore throat and is grumpy and sleepy. No big deal for a normal child but I'm seeing new twitches and jolts in her body and what I am almost certain are new vocal tics. When shes not sleepy and grumpy her ADHD is off the scale and even at baseline, Alices ADHD is like something most behavioral specialists have never seen, so right now its insanely bad. Hopefully I'm panicking over nothing but the possibility that we are seeing the beginnings of full blown Tourettes is really worrying me. I've been ignoring it and making light of it for so long, but now I'm quietly shitting myself.
At almost 9 years old, Alice is now she at the exact age that it most commonly shows itself and NKH is such a wank of a condition that all sorts of other co morbidity pop up as it progresses. It throws all sorts of shit at you again and again and again. When you fix/stabilise one thing, it throws another.
Today I'm sad and defeated and as of about 5pm, I too have an absolute bitch of a sore throat.
Thursday and Friday 14th/15th May
I would of loved to end the week on a high. Firstly because it would just be nice to blog something happy and secondly because I realised this will be the last in the Lockdown Series. With Alice returning to school on Monday and a big shift back to normal in my home state, we are no longer in Lockdown and as such the series will end. The feedback so far seems pretty good so I will start a new series, with a new title and format. I'm sure there is a lot more comedy mileage to be had from the rest of of year in The Shit Shack. Watch this space.
So what has happened the last two days? Well everyone but George now has a sore throat (no sign of the dreaded "dry tickly cough" that will signal our imminent death) but enough to make us all slow down a bit. Poor Alice has a mouth full of ulcers so I'm frantically trying to find triggers. I bought a water filter yesterday as she is on tap water for the first time in her life as we no longer have a flashy fridge with combined water station and filter. Maybe thats the problem? Im also reading that low iron and B Vitamins can do it. Well Alice has had low iron her entire life. No matter how much we suppliment and no matter how much red meat she eats, its never normal. You see it a lot in NKH and its yet another unexplained anomaly in these kids. With all this disruption to her already incredibly fragile system, her night time movements are something I have never seen. We are now at the point that when she wakes in the night (as she does multiple times) she cant speak or sit or even swallow. She thrashes and squeals and her arms and legs fly dangerously around. It is truly heartbreaking to watch. Especially when you know 2 hours previous she was dancing to The Wiggles wearing my bra on her head or playing I pad with her pretend glasses on, being to totally coherent and hilarious. NKH sucks shit. It sucks big time. I fucking hate it and everything about it. Its cruel and relentless and when you think its taken all it can, it takes some more. #IFHNKH
But enough of that lets summarise our Lockdown.
We moved to a shit hole. We breathed dead rat for several weeks. We still have no sign of any sourdough bread. We survived an epic storm. We are all "Ginas". My husband looks much better with hair. I love my kids but I need them to go to school more for my mental health than their education. My son has had very little education even while at school. Alice is getting funnier all the time (both funny "weird" and funny "hilarious"). I don't need to go to K Mart nearly as much as I thought I did. I love my husband working from home. Its far easier to gain weight in Lockdown than it is to loose it not in Lockdown. Alice can now tackle two steps. George loves Onesies. I miss a dishwasher so badly. I miss having an en suite even more. We survived. In some aspects we actually thrived. When I'm suffocated by my loud and chaotic family I want to get away. As soon as I get away, I miss them. I can do life without alcohol.
As we all said a few months back "see you on the other side", here we are, on the other side.
I hope to see you in the next Blog Series.
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