Melspeth, The Other Blog

Oh, how I love it when the kids are sick...We've had our share of illness and injury this last week or so to last us for a while.

First off, Geoffrey broke his collarbone while playing with a friend a week ago last Thursday. After the requisite trip to the ER, followed by x-rays and waiting for someone to look at them, Geoffrey left with a wimpy little sling and the assurance that it would heal up within a week or two. Of course, this being his first broken bone, Rick and I were a tad concerned that his shoulder blade seemed so out of alignment, so I called the doctor last Monday and managed to get squeezed in (remind me to rant later about the abominable people skills of the receptionist there) and our family doctor took a look at him and reassured us that his shoulder is doing exactly what it needs to in order to heal properly. Now if we could just get him to start using his arm again! I think the prospect of riding his bike again should do the trick.


As if that weren't bad enough, he came down with some kind of 24-hour bug this past Friday that basically sent him to bed for the day, waking up periodically for bathroom, Tylenol and drink breaks. During one, Rick went to get him some lemon-lime Gatorade and Geoffrey asked, "Daddy? Is that the stuff for light replacement? Well, he remembered it replaced something in the body, just not the whole name... He slept most of that day and fortunately, he felt fine on Saturday.

But now it's Emily's turn. She is currently asleep in my bed (after some early morning snuggles), doing the "zombie-sleep", mouth all gaping open, head thrown back on the pillow. Her temp last night was 103, so I'm just trying to keep it at a manageable level until she's feeling better. Even in her fever-induced fatigue, she has still managed to amaze me, though. Last night, she was sitting on her daddy's lap, drinking a Yop and I said to her, "Well, the good news is, you'll be feeling better tomorrow." She pondered that for a few seconds, turned to me and said, "What's the bad news?" I was not prepared for my 3 year old child to extrapolate that kind of concept, so I had no ready answer. So the preschooler sat there waiting patiently for an answer and I looked like a carp, trying to figure out what to say. Jakk had to pick his jaw up off the floor and Rick was highly amused by his daughter's intelligence. I finally managed to say, "The bad news is that you feel kind of crummy right now." She mulled that one over for a few minutes, then repeated it back to us.

So, this week has been interesting - between trying to get everything ready for the wedding and sick kids, I'm ready for a vacation!

I am sick.  Boo, sick!  Called in sick to work today, sneezed/coughed/sniffled my way through a staff meeting and am now being pampered with homemade onion soup and a fabulous dinner followed by a bubble bath in a huge tub and likely a back-rub, if I ask nicely enough. 

I have been fortunate to have several conversations with friends lately, friends I haven't seen or spoken to much since Jim and I broke up.  I have been alternately pleased and disheartened when the topic turned to my relationship with Rick and the future we are building together. When I tell them about how happy we are and how fantastic and functional we are as a couple, it is almost always met with skepticism.  Too many times now I have heard, "Yeah, he does that/it's great/you're happy  now.  But that could all change/you might change your mind/he might change in a year, in two years, etc, etc, etc."  To that I say Fie!  Fie on you, those who have never experienced this kind of love.  Perhaps that was a tad harsh; let me rephrase...

I am so sorry that you have not been so fortunate to have experienced this kind of amazing, servant-minded love; the kind of love where each partner gives 100%, none of this 50-50 bullshit.  The kind of love that I know down into my bones...that even before I laid eyes on him, I knew that we were right for each other, that in every way that matters, we fit together, that this man was made, molded by God for me - for this.  I am sorry that you are so coloured by my past actions that you cannot see the changes I have undergone.  There are some out there who feel hurt/betrayal/insult on behalf of someone who does not harbour those feelings toward me.  For you, I pray that your hearts will be turned, that you will see the healing that has occurred in the hearts and lives of those directly affected by events of the past.  It is not your hurt to be upset about.  It is not you who was betrayed.  You were simply unaware of what was really going on, that is all.  There are some out there that believe I am fickle, impetuous, shallow  or flighty.  For you, I pray that you will open your eyes and hearts up to see how one brief period of reckless behaviour does not define me in the rest of my life.  So please, take your skewed, coloured, filtered view of me, my life and my current choices and set them aside, for they will only serve to make you miserable and to damage what remains of our friendship.

Let's start fresh.

I love autumn.  Really, I do.  The turning of the leaves; the crispness in the air; sweater weather; my creative muse roars out of dormancy and urges me to make gifts for people.  Stew returns to the menu.  Mmm...stew...

Autumn also heralds the return of my worst migraine cycle of the year.  The slightest twitch on the barometer and my head either feels like a pregnant elephant is roosting on the top of my cranium or like I am having some bizarre, archaic  "wet-leather-strap-tied-around-the-head-that-slowly-tightens-and-crushes-my-skull" torture.  Ugh.

And head colds.  Blasted head colds.  You know, you get one, ONE measly sinus infection and then every subsequent viral infection goes directly to the sinuses - does not pass go, does not collect $200.  It was bad enough that every infection went to my throat, inflaming the paltry tag of tonsil my aging doctor missed during surgery when I was 15.  But NO, that wasn't good enough.  My sinuses wanted parity.  So now, I get this "full head assault" on a semi-regular basis.  Come on, I have young children...G is going to bring home whatever germ is floating around the school this week and I'M going to catch it.  Serves me right for hugging and kissing them all the time.  Alright, I hereby pronounce a moratorium on maternal affection from Oct 1 until April 1.  THAT should keep me healthy, right?

My favourite time of year for singing (all those awesome Christmas carols, hymns and songs) and my stupid chronic sinus infections taunt me.  I'll start to feel better, sing a test song in the car and ratch my voice for another week .  Maybe now that I'm attending church regularly again and singing every week it won't happen this year?  I had been cautiously optimistic these last few days, thinking that my voice was finally coming back after my last sinus/throat infection in freaking JUNE.  I have been able to sing higher, hold a note longer and not have the raspy, gravelly quality to my singing that I feared was becoming my normal voice.  And now this.  Colour me NOT happy.

Of course, now that I have vented my spleen, it is important to note that I really AM happy.  My life is more full and happy than it has ever been.  I am in love with a man who is my best friend, someone I get to marry in less than 20 months.  My kids are a constant source of wonder and delight and we have become a tight-knit little family.

So, to sum up: migraines and colds suck, but I love my life.