grey’s anatomy – my heart

to quote the good folks at seattle grace hospital, "seriously".

or in hong kong, "series-ly".

hong kong isn’t on top of the game when it comes to series television. we’re everything from two episodes to two years behind. a noteable exception, possibly due to my letters, telephone calls and tears is the amazing race, for which we are only 14 hours delayed. AND (AMAZING RACE SPOILER AHEAD, if you would like to go back a few months to my prediction blog, may i say, i did quite well in the predictions.)

so it is only recently that i started watching grey’s anatomy. series one started in hong kong last year, but i cant commit to being home (or awake) once a week at a certain time. and i never started with the show although all my girlfriends were going on and on about patrick dempsey and that very cute isaiah washington (ding dong!). but i dutifully bought the series in shenzhen last december and approximately one year later, here i am watching it.

and watching and watching. very addicting show i might add.

forget the mcdreamy bit, i adore the "nazi" and sandra oh’s character. they’re the best. and the aforementioned dr burke.

last night (mag charles, or should i call him mccharles? is in india) i started watching an episode where i woman with quints comes in. and my fluffy enjoyment of the entire episode just fizzled away to naught. 32 weeks with quints and her stomach was that small? at 26 weeks wtih triplets my stomach was close to twice that size. give me a break. and they weren’t throwing food at her at every opportunity? hardly.

the scene where her babies are born i found very unsettling. all those drs in the or. i have sometimes wondered what the or was like when our babies were delivered. delivering quints is of course a larger scale, but it probably would have been something like what the show was portraying. lift one baby out, cut cord, tie cord while intubating, into isolette run into lift. repeat times three. almost three years ago.

have i ever mentioned that i never found out how long jasper, sela and carys were when they were born? it wasn’t relevant to life saving and would have wasted precious seconds finding out, so they never told us. it was after the babies were released that we started charting their length. almost three years ago…yet it could almost be yesterday.

btw – if you haven’t been to charles’ blog to see him making sebastian’s birthday cake, please do. and you can see his rave/rum dancing as well…always a bonus. and see a very enchanted sebastian and the kids still, for once!

we had our first attempt at a democratic Christmas tree decorating this year.

the kids, bless them, loved it. racing back and forth, repeating the drummed into their blonde heads admonition, "one finger on the Christmas tree" mantra, placing, pushing, forcing, dropping, attempting, to put ornaments whereever they thought they might belong.

once every three minutes (roughly) sebastian would ask, "when can we put the star up?" and once every three minutes i would answer, "when we’re finished decorating."

so many things irritated me about d.C.t.d.

1) sebastian’s voice got a little whingier each time he asked how much longer until the star. that wasn’t too pleasant but neither was my immature response, which was to get snarlier. and i believe i  might have thrown in, "this will be the Christmas without a star if you don’t stop asking." let me check my notes, but it does sound familiar.

2) sebastian sort of dented the ornament he made for me last year. how can you break a styrofoam ornament? seb found a way.

3) the kids have not inherited one a.r. fashion gene. not a single strand. i thought sebastian and sela had them. apparently i was wrong because those kids had no problems putting two blue ornaments next to each other. don’t they KNOW blue-silver-blue is the correct order of the Christmas tree universe? (unless you’re this chick i run across occasionally who when she asked me my christmas tree theme colours and i told her, she responded, "oh, i did that a few years ago when it was popular.") so the tree is haphazardly decorated.

during the infertility years, i prayed for this tree. or more specifically, for kids to do an endearingly crap job decorating the tree. we didn’t buy a tree one Christmas pre-kids, there didn’t seem a point. so my complaints are worse than sebastian’s whinging about when can he see a star. for months i begged to see a double line on a pregnancy test. during my ivf i begged to have the blood test done early, so i could get the results faster.

that star on the Christmas tree means presents will soon follow under it, and holidays and daddy not going to work. three fantastic treats for sebastian. that blood test for me meant magnificent charles and i were getting the best presents we had ever asked for.

i realised i had to lighten up about the tree. which is why i am stoopendously proud to announce that i did NOT rearrange ANY ornaments last night after they had all gone to bed.

the house of vomit and fog

there has been a 24 hour ‘flu bug going round so multiply that by the eight or so (charles is travelling, so i really shouldn’t exaggerate…) seven people in our household and you get a week long flu. mine has been accompanied by lower cramping in my intestines (right hand side). oh, and magnificent charles isn’t here. he’s actually in australia, scuba diving at the gold coast. nothing he doesn’t deserve.

sela started first, getting all hot and red like a tomato, eyes red rimmed like a teenager experimenting with lipstick in all the wrong places. or maybe it is fashion and since i am old i just dont know these things anymore. but she was hot. not too hot, just 102 at her worst. but motrin took care of it.

then carys. same thing.

then jasper.

they could all eat, except for they all played deja vu with their food.

splash and gross.

monday sebastian woke up. he was hot, 103. motrin took care of it, but i didn’t send him to school. he didn’t want to go outside, it was too cold, he claimed. so i let him stay inside all snuggly. he liked that. and then tuesday, just as we were getting ready to leave (i was helping my girlfriend steph out at the final conrad fair, she has her own business)..sebastian vomitted. he had vomitted earlier in the morning but i thought it was sort of a five year old’s version of morning sickness and hadn’t given it much thought.

so he stayed home for the day.

very tired ofcleaning up vomit. i know they haven’t been sick for a while, but when they are sick it seems like i have been cleaning up sick for three years.

i was very impressed with seb who was as brave as a soldier and did not cry when he was sick. good man.

they’re better now, just in time for hand foot and mouth to sweep across hong kong. be interesting to see if we get that.

when my brother was very little, he stuttered. there is the old family story of the time we were getting our portraits taken and the photographer said, "say cheese, everyone!" and the camera flashed and the shot was taken.

the light still blinding us, pam and i ran off in different directions, and graeme was still standing there, saying, "ch..ch..chchchch…ch..chch…"

with a lot of diligence, patience and repetition, my mum, all by herself, trained graeme out of his stuttering. i can remember her bending down, looking into his eyes and saying to him whenever he started to get his words tangled,

"stop speaking. think about what you want to say. speak slowly."

not bad life lessons if you think about it. ones that frugal blake has always lived by, i might add.

i can’t put a time frame on it, but graeme’s stuttering eventually stopped. we never teased him about it, because it was the way he was. it wasn’t funny, we saw how much trouble it caused him. but mum’s continual gentle reminders trained graeme out of the stuttering. very impressive. she got us to say it to him as well, so at school or walking home we could remind him as well.

sebastian has a thing that i need to be training him out of. it is one of those traits that kids will start noticing and commenting on soon. his teacher said that he doesn’t do it much at school, but when he does, she stops him.

obviously this is different than a stutter. it isn’t something like picking your nose, it is just a thing that could get him teased. being the ever protective mum, i don’t want that. so mag char (who also noticed it) and i talked about it and when we see him doing it, we remind him not to and give him alternatives.

what line differentiates a mum between a perfectionist who was continually harping and a mum who really helped you? the seriousness of the issue? the success of the initiative? if they recognise the issue needs to be taken care of?

anyone? anyone?

the kids are extremely entertaining right now, when they are not busy being two, or possibly even worse, three. sebastian, embarking on the world of five and the wisdom it brings, is alternately endearing and exasperating.

the other night, in the post meal bathroom pile up, sela was shifting from foot to foot, curls bouncing as she waited for jasper to complete his business, at which he is notoriously and predictably slow. finally she burst out, "jasper! hurry or i will chow-chow all over barbie knickers!" (we do have another bathroom that sela could have used, but that other bathroom is not equipped with a dora the explorer toilet ring. sela believes her buttocks will inflame if they touch against anything other than dora or barbie toilet rings and refuses to grace any other comic or action figure.)

today, jasper was very cross with me for making him hand over one of sebastian’s birthday presents back to it’s rightful owners. i was in the playroom, tidying and talking with auntie pammie (btw – thank you to grandads doug and blake, mo, auntie pammy, auntie mandy, charmaine, auntie carolyn and cousin galen, and shayna for calling and wishing sebasitan a happy birthday. i am not good at calling on birthdays, you all calling and thinking of him was so kind…xoxo) and jasper stands in the playroom door, looks at me reproachfully and says, "mummy, share". and then walks away.

little lulu started crying today when sally called and informed them that gymastics was cancelled. it broke her tiny little heart and she loves sally so very much. "but i love nastics! i love jumping!" she informed me, and she did a couple of little jumps to prove her devotion to the sport she has mastered. her hair is a mystery to me, i have no idea how to style it, but i am happy to report that it is long enough to put into two very thin bunches. after an hour and some running, the elastic invariably falls out…but…while it lasts, those 13 hairs look quite cute all bundled together. carys, who walked in as i was replenishing the female hygene section of my closet the other day and said, "mummy, you wear little nappies?"

with sebastian, i think it is his learning what is gobsmacking me right now. he’s coming home jauntily throwing about words like "pentagram" and described his birthday as "wonderful". this growing up is wonderful, but painful too. today at a birthday party i saw this blonde child and thought, "ooh, he’s exquisite" and then realised as my mind was forming the opinion that it was sebastian. i still worry about some aspects of his learning, and his speaking being too loud…but oh the love i have for this boy.

and for magnificent. he is divine. really love that fellow.

the last time i posted, seb had snap crackled popped his head open and it had been stitched up rather nicely while we diverted him with talk of his birthday party.

one week later, the stitches are out, the birthday party has been had, and today, sebastian turned five. "a whole hand" he said wonderingly, as he pressed his open hand against mine.

sebastian is five. years. old.

i can remember when he was five days old, and wondering where time had gone. had this bald creature only been cracking and chafing the inside and out of my chest for five days?

and five weeks, i wondered where time had gone. so many pictures i could and should have taken, so many moments lost.

at five months, i started attending mother’s groups and started listening and wondering where time had gone. so many opportunities lost to increase my child’s future academic performance. why hadn’t i been using flash cards already? why hadn’t i been playing classical music 24/7? why did i wear colours instead of exclusively black and white? where had time gone? each week represented a lost iq mark. my child, my future academic unachiver, my fault for slacking.

at five years, i look at him , forearms drifting out of the arms of pajamas that just yesterday i thought i bought. words and arguments bursting out of him. excitement in the world and his place in it, and the possibilities for him. questions that appear, in the pattern of all children, right before bedtime. there are new moles on his face that weren’t there last year. a couple on his back.

his little four pack, and muscular legs. he is a much better football player than he was last year. he’s no beckham, but he is steady. and while he isn’t the fastest runner, he can run long distances. not easily winded is our boy.

he has a line in the school play this year. he is a wise man. we are learning it together. his high pitched voice will be encouraging the other wise men to find the baby king. the same high pitched voice that encourages me to find the gum, chippies, yakult, sausages and chocolate dipped biscuits in park n shop and doesn’t get too upset when i say, "they’re not on the list this week".

sebastian and i were reading a book together the other day, franklin and harriet, i think. and he described the scene from a picture perfectly. "sebastian!" i said, and smiled because the old eyeballs were getting a little moist.

and he looked at me and said, "i know mummy, i know. i’m cwacking your heawt, aren’t i."

he’s five.

today.

Seb In Utero

last week we had a parent/teacher meeting at small world christian kindie, sebastian’s school. we were very pleased with seb’s progress and his teachers’ assessment of seb’s development. they noted what we have, that one skill that has really come to the fore is the skill of happily being a group member. the school really emphasises the "we not me" emotional and social aspect, which seb (and every other child in this world) needs reminding of! they also included a portfolio of his work, and one of them was this classic, with the rather rambling title of,

"this is me when i was a baby in my mummy’s tummy".

it will be coming up for auction at sotheby’s spring 2007 auction, being so impressionistic and all.

keeping me in stitches

model misbehaviour

if the truman show were the tess show i would be:

a) pleased to be within such close proximity to ed harris

and

b) slightly quizzical, but pleased that after suffering at the six hands of the enfants terribles yesterday, that today they were quirky, endearing, and redeeming. i might even list the surprising things they had done.

well, jasper fell out of bed last night at 4am and didn’t fall back asleep, does that count? and they taught themselves a new song, "charlie charlie bum bum bum" how about that? should my heart be melting? am i the malfunctioning one here?

apparently the blow to jasper’s forehead was bad enough for

a) people to endlessly comment "what happened to HIM?" all today and

b) for the him in question to stay awake half the night wailing in distress and checking himself like a first year med student that after his tragic fall he could still clap his hands and sing (he could).

and today was an interesting day, because sela and carys were meant to be helping a friend out modelling some of her clothes for her catalogue. they were not getting paid, i had not submitted their names to be considered, i was asked as a favour along with some others. jasper wasn’t necessary, but as the photo shoot was two hours before gymnastics and SALLY!!!! i dragged jasper along. this meant all the kids were short changed on their naps which after yesterday and last night, they were in desperate need of.

we got to the location, and the assistant brought out outfits for sela and carys. they wanted them in very similar outfits. unfortunately, sela wanted to wear the blue chanel type coat that had been earmarked for carys, due to carys’ eye colour, and that was enough to cause la belle sela to burst into floods of tears. the wine coloured jacket she wore was too large.

the tears stopped when two ballerina/princess dresses were pulled out. one cream coloured, the other a deep red. i let sela have first choice and she selected the cream. told me "i like this pretty dress". the girls changed, and we adjusted the backs with clips (carys’ dress was wayyy too big in the bodice, sela’s wayy too big in the waist) and ignored jasper’s pleas to wear, "pitty dresses".

and then we waited. for an hour while some other very cute kids took their shots.

the kids got really restless and we made umpteen trips to the loo. the waiting was not easy.

and finally it was our turn. the lights were hot, the girls were restless, and they were not in the mood for smiling, or, i learned, swinging their pretty dresses. seriously. sela lay down on the floor and said, "no". shortly after, carys followed.

recognising a crisis, i pulled out a lolly and told the photog we had maybe five more minutes and to get the shots…hurry.

at some point, someone had asked if jasper would be willing to model. jasper with the lump in the middle of his forehead? sure, why not. he was pushed into a velvet doublet sized for an 18 month old, and had to wait around. and suddenly, he raced out to his sisters, and began twirling around like they refused to. the photog was enchanted. we finished with the girls quickly, and then it was jasper’s turn.

jasper.

jasper, who found his mark quickly. all we had to say to him was, "go back to your tape", and he would. jasper who jumped, smiled, flirted, lowered his lashes, grinned, pursed, (picked his nose as well, if im being totally truthful) and cajoled in and out of three 18 month outfits. he was dead charming. amazingly so.

jasper and i stayed longer than the girls did, and finally i insisted that we leave because gymnastics was about to start. he loved it.

modelling. jasper. maybe.

before today, i would have thought that sela would have been our tiny tinned ham. i guess not. i was asked if i wanted jasper to do more work, and i said i wasn’t sure. truth is, i’m not. he seemed to enjoy it. that’s what counts.

did i enjoy it? not while sela and carys were being evil? not one bit. but parts of it were fun. watching them have fun was fun. wondering if they would be able to photoshop out the bruise on jasper’s forehead was fun.

it just struck me….are my kids acting like this because they think they’re going to be the next naomi campbell???

“nap”, uh, crap.

i am a fraud.

i read a blog i had written a while ago and for some reason i made it sound like i had life under control. or at least my kids.

that is so not the case.

i don’t.

i realised this quite forcefully after two days of non napping yes freakazoiding kid activity all over the place. what is with my kids?

do you think that in the back of my mind i am remembering that sebastian was a fairly tolerable two year old but a testy three year old? the thought is driving me BONKERS. can it get much worse? will i ever be able to get the desired result from my children without dragging blood or teeth from them first? why does their room look like a crime scene after "nap"?

today, during "nap", the kids removed their gro-bags, either together (please frugal blake, don’t tell me that i should be impressed that they are working together, like good union employees do) or separately, and pushed sela’s bed away from the window. then somehow they pushed over the heater. and then they removed the wooden slats from above jasper’s bed.

i am appalled. they have no respect.

i can go barging in there, and the only result is, they begin squealing, "noooooooo!" which comes out sounding, "neeeeeeeeeewwww" which is pathetic. like i am the person at fault. if i didn’t want to know what was going on i should not have entered the inner sanctum. i am appalled by them.

if i EVER made it sound like i was a good parent, i apologise. i am not. magnificent is a good parent, which is why today i picked up the phone and called charles (he is in tokyo in case you are keeping track) and told him (while the kids were listening) how they had destroyed their room. they started crying but only because i would’t let them hold the phone and sing happy birthday to daddy.

i am a bad parent, worse, an ineffective one.

dislike them, despise myself.

next thing you know i am going to be saying, "if you don’t stop crying, i am going to throw you out the window!"