Who’d be a parent?

Angel had an accident ice skating today.  Which no doubt is a fairly common thing in some parts of the world but in BrisVegas where the outside temp was roughly 37degrees today… ice skating aint exactly a big sport.  I mean Brisbane has approximately 2 million residents these days and exactly 2 ice skating rinks.

I thought he’d be fine going ice skating with a bunch of Canadians who’ve been ice skating since the time they could walk, and I expected he’d come home with a wet butt and maybe a handful of bruises, but I certainly wasn’t expecting a call from Mr K saying he was following an Ambulance with MY Small Child in it to the Mater Children’s Emergency Ward.  Apparently Angel was doing great, skating well and spinning about and having a ball with relatively few falls and mishaps … relative that is for a Queensland kid that is who is more comfortable at the beach than at an ice rink.

Anyway, he was skating along with Grandpa behind him when he lost his balance… as you do – when you strap steel blades or wheels to your feet… and took a tumble.  Grandpa, who has been skating since Methuselah was a boy and has spent much of his adult life playing ice hockey in a rough-as-guts pub league up Vancouver Island way, tried to evade crashing into the Small Child while he was in the middle of the whole falling-on-your-arse process.  Somehow in the middle of all that flailing of limbs (in a way I still can’t picture in my head), Angel’s face came into contact with Grandpa’s recently sharpened ice skates slicing down the left side of his face from above his eye and down his cheek.

Well I did the predictable thing and high tailed it to the hospital (like some sort of masochist I had Big Sal drive me there…. she’s absolutely one of the worst drivers I know and certainly not the best person to be driving a currently traffic phobic and exceedingly distressed Borys to the hospital).  After a terrifying drive into town, I arrived to see one very upset little Angel with a gash above and below his eye that was about one centimeter wide.  It was so hard to not let him see how worried I was.

We had to wait quite a while to be seen which I guess is par for the course at a public hospital, but the doctors were excellent and Dr Gail who treated him had a bedside manner that was second to none – she was fantastic.  At first they thought he might need stitches but once the wound was cleaned up properly they could see it was a very clean cut so they were able to Super Glue the cut closed.  He’s going to have a scar, but hopefully it won’t be as bad as it would have been if some poor overworked sleep deprived public hospital intern had sutured his cuts.

So I feel like I’ve been put through the emotional wringer today –
Absolutely frantic with worry:
sharp ice skate… hospital… Small Child’s little face… ambulance  
Distraught in traffic: 
worst driver in Bris… also stressed… in a hurry
Back pain out the wa-hoo: 
ridiculously tense… no lunch…. too many pills… light headed…
Distressing treatment:
syringes… swabs… Small Child crying in pain clutching his Jedi figurine
Eventual relief:
no stitches… bravery stickers… gratitude for Dr Gail…  and the obligatory Happy Meal on the way home.

And now I’m positively drained and it’s rounding on 1am…..  but I am so wired I can’t even think of sleeping.  I need a hug.
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Art Lessons


Small Child:  Eonardo Devitchi painted the Monning Esa you know.


Mom:   You mean L-L…Leonardo da Vinci painted the Mona Lisa.  Did you have art class today?

Small Child:  Yep…..  And Andy Warthog likes soup.

How interesting….

State School art class = Fingerpainting
vs
Private School art class = Art History. 

Hmmm no complaints here.

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Look Mom! No rants!

I’m being encouraged to focus on stuff other than painful things, so I’m not going to rant on today about my back pain, I’m going to post some cool pics of nonsense.  Unfortunately, we’re likely to be back to our regular programming tomorrow.

For the last three years, whenever someone asks Angel what’ he’d like for his Birthday or Christmas or any other gratuitous-occasion-for-the bestowal-of gifts he will inevitably answer with an emphatic “Lego!”.  As the years have gone on this answer has become “Lego… obviously… ummm what else?”  So today for everyone’s inner child…. (whom according to Blography Dave you occasionally have to tell to ‘go fuck themselves’) we have Lego pics which have nothing to with chronic pain and/or subsequent major depressive episodes.

“These have nothing to do with anything….
…. and everything to do with nothing.”
RMB

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Catholic literally means ‘universal’

Day Three of Operation Faith Feint.  The Undercover Operative, Small Child, has been sent on a most sensitive diplomatic mission – to infiltrate his new educational environment whilst simultaneously dissembling a knowledge of, and adherence to, a religious doctrine to which he has no previous exposure.

Daily debrief:

Mom:  Did you have a good time at your new school today Bub? 
Small Child: It was great!  I got to sit with my new friend, and I got to play and I ate all my lunch.
Mom:  Sounds great kiddo.
Small Child:  Ahuh…. *pause*  but I don’t like the imagining God thing.  It’s boring.

Operation status:   Absolute failure – imminent.
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School Daze

It was the Small Child’s first day at my old primary school today and I was admittedly curious to see how he would adapt to all the changes… new uniforms, new surrounds, new classmates… new teacher… new everything.  And while it was new everything for the Small Child, it turns out it was old everything for me.  Walking into his classroom took me on an instant trip down memory lane, it was the exact same room that I was in for Grade Two (and here I’m carbon dating myself) back in 1978.  Sure it felt like the room had shrunk and the black boards were replaced with whiteboards, and the desks were no longer those lift up wooden ones that you had to hold up with your head or else they’d fall down and crush your little hands, but it felt exactly as I remember it!


BigSal, Borys and LittleTish (c. 1981)

What an amazing coincidence that he was going to be in my old classroom…  and it gets better.  His new teacher Mrs W looked vaguely familiar when I walked in…. and lo and behold, turns out to be the exact same teacher that I had when I did Grade Two in that exact same classroom exactly 30 years ago!  Only she was Miss S back then.  🙂   Which is really totally cool…. and at the same time a little creepy.  🙂  Can’t wait to tell Equinom as she was in my class back then too.

So it seems like he settled in quite well and had a pretty good first day – he tells us the teacher asked lots of questions and he knew most of the answers, so he was very excited.  Now all I have to wait for is the day he ‘outs’ us as bad little Catholics by saying something like “God?  What’s that?”   (Ahem…. is it getting a little warm in here?)   I did try to carefully explain to him (okay… it felt more like I was warning him) that at his new school, the teachers may on occasion encourage the entire class to …  well… pray.  His response was (predictably) “Huh??”  

So yeah…. I’m thinking the Godless heathens tag will be stapled to our file sooner rather than later at this rate.  :S