Hi there… It’s hard to believe another year is nearly over. We often think to ourselves … what have we actually done or achieved this year? For me, I can be pretty hard on myself when it comes to achievements and personal accomplishments. I think, well WHAT have I actually done? It can be hard to recall the whole year, going back through it can be mentally draining. I do know for a fact, that looking at my ever-growing family and seeing their smiling, bright faces; I know I have done enough and have achieved everything I needed for the year. I know that for myself and for many others, setting goals can be hard to do and also hard to achieve; while measuring these are also harder still … I have to stop being so hard on myself (and you too), to just enjoy that moment where I know deep down I have done all that I can for everyone in my life, children and family, friends and work-place; and be proud of these achievements (big or small)…
Moving right along, back to 2014 (sorry for the slow progression through the months- we are getting through it though!); Uni was (unfortunately) back on, juggling the girls and school with Mister C, was a (mostly calm) struggle through the many long days. I recall studying late most nights, husband would pop his head around the study room wall and say, …”Are you going to sit with me tonight my love?” My usual response was, “No love, have too much studying to do for my exam next week, maybe tomorrow night?”… I had another Uni placement looming, but thankfully it wasn’t until the last semester towards the end of the year, for a further four weeks.
Mister C was his amusing self, with his bright red curly bangs (hair) (couldn’t bring myself to cut any of the cute curls off at that point), over these weeks slowly growing bigger and stronger every day. I recall husband saying, “Mister C has started climbing onto the couches! Scary stuff and I hope he doesn’t fall off… He also started being able to climb off our bed by reversing himself off. It is quite cute how his little puffy bottom sticks out in the air, as he manoeuvres off the big bed.” Husband also went on to note … “It dawned on me this morning that Mister C is not screeching as much as he was a few months ago, more like ten times in the day, not twenty!”… We also noticed him babbling a lot more too, over the last week he seemed to be actually talking to people, but it sounded more like …”Bleff dieff dis blieff disch!”(quite funny mind you).
Another funny thing Husband mentioned was, “Mister C (at around seventeen months), rather than just babbling or crying when he wakes in the morning in his cot; wakes, reaches over and opens his own bedroom door so we can hear him. He then switches the light switch off and on, off and on until he hears one of us get up to go get him for big hugs.”… (rather cute, but cheeky mind you!). A couple of weeks later we got another bit of a surprise (expected though mind you?), when Mister C for the first time hopped out of his TV chair (sometimes called the POO chair- naturally!) by himself and suddenly appeared at the dinner table. He did it again a couple of days later. We decided to chuck that chair and swap it with the play-pen that was in the study. It meant Mister C could see us having dinner, AND watch his favourite ‘Sesame Street’ episode (well favourite, in that we put him in front of it every evening for weeks; I could even recite a few of the scenes word for word, particularly my favourite one with Marvin Gay singing…), without getting out (and possibly hurting himself) and running amok…
The weeks passed by, we celebrated another Easter and sweet Flossy’s sixth all things PINK-and-FAIRIES birthday. Husband also turned the big forty-one the following month (luckily, I could still tease him, with being older than me- always…), mind you he did look older than his age in different indoors and outdoors (mood) ‘lighting’ (and frumpy dressing gown outfits), Husband calls out… “What the? I only got frumpy from sympathy eating while you were pregnant, it just continued for a couple years after Mister C was born-but I never acted it though!”… So, I guess that made up for the age difference…
We finally received a surgery date for Mister C and his larger than life ‘raspberries’, booked for mid-June at a private hospital in town. It was quite urgent (the specialist agreed too), so having to wait under Medicare, on the public wait list would have taken several months; so we decided to get it done privately (having private insurance helped a lot (I think? Mind you the out of pocket costs are greater every time one of the family do have to have a procedure…)- thanks Ma (hiya!) for the bit of financial help back then too!). We had time to prepare (all of us). Naturally, we were all worried about how it was going to go; particularly me with how Mister C was going to react before and after the procedure, while helping to control his pain and comfort post-surgery too. Again, this was not new to us, having gone through similar operations with the girls, but they were both older. As a Mum, we always want to take responsibility for the problem or situation our children are faced with; I wished it could have been me having the procedure not Mister C (but, I already had mine removed when I was three, so I was no help there!)…
I was busy organising soft food menus for Mister C, time off work and day-care needed for the weeks recovering after the procedure; when I received the terrible (perhaps expected?) phone call from my Sister (hiya! C.M) about a week and a half before the surgery date. Our dear Oma (Dad’s Mother) had passed away at the (grand) age of ninety-six. This sad news really hit me badly (as my Sister and family too); I had lost my train of thought for the remainder of the week, and everything else meaningless slipped away. I recall having a bad dream days before the dreaded phone call; I knew Oma was unwell, but in the dream, I physically couldn’t get to her; like I was reaching over a high cliff, to see her one last time (was a horrible nightmarish dream!) I also recall being very worried about Oma weeks earlier, as she had been in hospital near where she lived on Phillip Island (such a beautiful place) recovering from a bad fall. My Aunt (hiya M & J. T) had called me to update us on how dear Oma was going, and how her recovery was fairing. I had called Oma over Christmas and throughout the year, to see how she was going, and to chat about the family. I always enjoyed chatting with her, no matter how unwell she was or sounded, Oma always had something encouraging and heart-felt to say.
Losing my dear Dad so many years earlier (1995), and not being able to see him before he passed away was tough. Oma was my last connection to Dad; so, losing her now too really hit the core of my heart strings. I knew I had to see her, I did try so desperately to get down to her the weeks prior to her passing; but it did prove very difficult with Mister C unwell most of the time and on constant Abs, to actually get there. I felt quite defeated with myself that I didn’t drop everything and just go, but as we know (as Mums and Dads), children in the family always come first…
A word from Mister C…
Me and Mister C hope you had a very calm but happy Christmas with family and friends (if you celebrated the occasion), and peaceful holidays to other communities and groups who celebrate other occasions. Mister C was worried about getting something from Santa on his bed on Christmas Eve. He said, …” Mummy, I don’t think I’m getting anything for Christmas this time. I don’t think I’ve been good enough!” he declared. I said, “You’ve been pretty good for most of the year, mid-way you lost the plot a bit, but then came good. I’m pretty sure you won’t miss out!” Mister C went on to say, “Oh, okay. But I will probably just be getting a lump coal at the bottom of my bed you know!” Husband commented… “At Granny’s house on Christmas day, I thought it was hilarious when G-Dad (hiya! J.B) said to Mister C, ‘You only like the Wiggles?’ and Mister C very indignant shouted ‘YOU are a Wiggle!’ “… (Poor G-Dad got all kinds of outlandish comments from Mister C that day- sorry dear G-Dad, we love you both, hiya! D.L-B too).
It’s funny Mister C mentioned the coal to me. My dear Dad was born in Holland, and migrated across to Australia with his family when he was about fifteen. As a tradition, when we were little I recall, we would put out our little handmade clog shoes (yes, we did wear them and they were very comfortable too!) out under our beds, hoping to get small toys or lollies in our shoes not coal (or something else yuk!). I recall being a little naughty (or spirited like Mister C) when I was young (like mother, like son!), and dreaded the same thing on Christmas Eve a few times too; luckily Saint Nicholas took pity on me and gave me lollies instead…
Stay tuned…
As we will be away down at Mollybook (Burrill Lake) next week (very lucky to be able to get away- with all the fires and road closures), I will try for two blogs, but most likely one good one!.. Stay tuned for the big operation day and overnight stay in hospital for Mister C. My dear Oma’s special funeral in Melbourne and our BIG decision to move states… Thanks for reading, night from Mister C and me…
Enjoy posts from Me and Mister C!!