The sound of continous flushing always strikes terror in my heart!

Chris and I looked at eachother in that silent exchange of:
“You go…”
“No you go…”
Then we both get up to go see what the comotion in the bathroom is all about.

BUSTED

The kids had been out in the backyard all morning, playing in the patch of dirt that the dogs had unearthed through the pebbles. After showering them i’d tossed their filthy mud caked shoes in the hallway to deal with later.

Apparently someone else had plans to wash their shoes as well… in a slightly different manner…

“Are you going to get a plastic bag?” Chris calls out to me as i run off down the hallway.

“No!” i giggle, “Im getting the camera”.

He’s thrown in: his shoes, Alex’s pair of sandals and an extra pair of volleys in, because, after all- you shouldnt run the machine unless you have a full load!

Attack of the Stones May 08, 08

Wednesday was the day of my Grandfathers funeral. Everyone has been busy organising and planning and i knew it was going to be a really rough day, emotionally.

Chris work up early with the kids and we were planning on dropping the kids off at his Mums while we attended the funeral and wake.

At 8am he flops down in bed complaining of bad cramping. He drank a huge 600ml of water and the cramping started not long after. He had the urge to pee but nothing was happening in that department. More cramping and moaning and me telling him to get his filthy feet off the white doona

8:30am he says he’s going to the GP’s. After sitting in the car for 30secs he realises he’s hurting too much to drive and waddles back in. “When did you last drink a glass of water besides this morning?” i ask. He says he can’t remember… I tell him i suspect he has a kidney stone, he says no its a stomach cramp- but just on his right side above the hip. I tell him thats not where his stomach is and he yells at me to drive him to the GP’s.
We get the still pyjamma-ed kids into the car. Nicholas has already flung his night nappy into a corner of the lounge and is bare bottomed beneath his PJs and Alex is still in his soggy night nappy. Chris is cursing the life out of the Honda CRV in front of us that seems to be observing a 40kmph speed in a 60 zone. The kids learn the proper pronunciation of the word “Bitch” and are repeating it over and over just to get it right!!

Once inside the GP’s i sit in the waiting area with the kids while he goes off to get assessed. The kids get instant cabin fever and start rounding up the other 2 boys into a game of Races, from one end of the waiting room to another. I keep having to tell the ringleader, Nicholas, to sit down and stop yelling while the other kids are not helping my case by shouting “Ready, Set GOOOO!” and off he tears out of my arms! I get fed up of marshalling the 100m sprints after 15mins and put them both back in the car, in thier carseats while i go see what has happened to Chris.

The nurse tells me its probably Kidney stones (i shoot Chris my infamous TOLDYOUSO look) and he gets a shot of morphine for the pain. I remember that “hot cars kill dogs” so i decide to take the kids to Chris’ mums early. I leave Chris on the gurney and go back home to pick up clothes for the kids and some of their toys. Ring the inlaws to tell them whats going on and that i’ll be dropping the kids off NOW. Kids are trying to shake themselves loose from their car seats and are rocking the whole 4WD when i emerge from the house with a Green Bag full of clothes and food and an arm full of toys.

Nicholas tells his Yiayia that “Babba’s got ouch, go to the doctor to get medicine”. While i unpack their clothes then drive back to the GP’s.

10:30am- He’s still on the gurney, still in pain and the nurse has called the Ambulance. They arrive after 30mins and take Chris in to the hospital while i follow them. I get on the phone and tell Dad about the drama and that i may not make it to the funeral. Dad tells me not to worry and just do whatever i have to do. Chris is asked to re tell his story about 50 times to varying nurses, trainee doctors and senior staff while they put him on a drip for fluids. All the male staff tell me the pain is worse than labour pains, but they shut up when i ask them when they last gave birth with no pain relief?

Sister calls in a panic.
Mother calls in a panic.

12:30 and we are still just hanging out in the ER. A nurse comes in and tells him they need a urine sample. From where? His armpit? HE CANT PEE for petes sake- thats why we are here!
Chris goes off to try and the nurse ominously confides in me, that what she is about to do next, he will not like AT ALL. Emphasised by her raised eyebrows and foreboding nodding of head.

The poor boy has to have a suppository inserted rectally for pain relief as the morphine is making him sleepy and nauseous at the same time. I think he’s now more traumatised by the nurse molesting him than anything! I tell him he’s lucky he didnt even have to buy her dinner and a drink first. “Im glad youre finding this amusing!” he snaps. They arrange for a CT scan but cant tell me what time that will happen, anywhere from 1 to 6hours they estimate. So i decide to leave him and go to the funeral.

1:30pm- I drive home change into funeral attire then drive to my grandmothers house. Everyone is surprised to see me and everyone is worried about Chris. All the men wince in pain when i tell them of the kidney stone diagnosis and someone comments that its worse than labour pains. I grit my teeth and walk away!

2pm- Arrive at funeral home and the word has spread that Chris is in the ER. Everyone wants to know whats going on. More wincing from the men and talk of labour pains being inferior to this, more objections from the ladies and people keep telling me to tell him to drink more water.

4pm- Funeral formalities are over. I have a raging headache from crying so much and not eating anything since 8am this morning. I ring the hospital and they tell me no one by that name is registered there.

“Yes he is! I was there when you registered him! Check it again!” Im on hold and worrying that they’ve taken him to get a frontal lobe lobotomy or something horrendously wrong. Operator is back saying she’s found him and he’s in ER. Derrr Captain Obvious, i want to know what has happened? Did he have his scan yet? What are they doing about his pain? Can i speak to him (no service for mobiles in the hospital)? All she can tell me is that he’s had the scan ad they are waiting for the Doc to come around and give him the results.

Ring Chris’ mum to inform her and she says that she already knows, Chris’ Dad went down there and is with him. I drive to MIL’s pick up kids, take them to the wake, eat, update 40 people on the Kidney Stone Saga and drive off to the ER to find him.

7pm- I barge through Emergency and am wrestling with a ‘no not open from this side’ door when someone on the other side releases the lock. In some weird ‘psychic connection’ moment the person on the other side is Chris’ Dad. We have a good laugh and i find Chris at the Discharge desk getting some take-home drugs and more reminders to drink bloody water.

Apparently the Doctor seeing him went home at 5pm and forgot to tell anyone that Chris was there and could go home!! So he was sitting there for 2 hrs just twiddling his thumbs!

7:30pm- I drive Chris back to my Mums place where most of the Wake guests have left but to the remainder, Chris’ arrival is like the prodigal son returning. Everyone is overflowing with concern, shoving glasses of water in his hands, getting him a chair etc. He’s still woozy from the morphine and just smiling like a nut.

9pm- Home, kids in bed, light dinner of toast, watch some TV and we’re both out like a light. Glass of water dutifully waiting by his bedside table.

Far too much emotional and physical exhaustion for one day!

I started to keep a little diary of their antics so i could look back on it fondly when they are trying to tame their own kids (and laugh in their faces). So i plan on filling up the Chaos category with tales of their destruction and mayhem. Most of the time i was able to grab the camera and hot-foot it to the disaster site, so there is some pictoral evidence to reassure you that i dont make this stuff up! Heres a little taste from last year…

Kryptonite Wed Apr 09, 08

Son,
If you make it to your 18th birthday without me killing you it’ll be a miracle.

You were brilliant for the first two months, not even entertaining the throught of climbing up on the entertainment unit below the wall mounted Plasma. You didnt even drive your car along its shiny glassy surface (although you did try to rub juice into it)…

So why did you decide to clamber up there and drive your car on the screen of your Dad’s $5k Bravia all of a sudden? The screen is royally stuffed now, 3 nice big vertical lines of liquid crystal have leaked and ruined it.

LUCKY the Sony people have had an issue with faulty screens lately and are fixing it with no charge since its under warranty. Your father did some research and it would have cost us $2,500+ to fix.

Kid, you are kryptonite to TV’s. This is the 3rd one you have killed in as many years. Im off to research perspex screen guards now and you’ll just have to stare at the blank wall for the next 7 days while its being repaired… or unwind that 50m ball of string and run it all over the house, like youre doing right now…
*sigh*

The Butter Incident Mon Apr 21, 08

Im absorbed in Text Twirl when Alexander approaches me with one half of his body all wet. “Mess a the water” he says.

I enter the kitchen to see the bar fridge wide open. Enter the lounge to see water everywhere, on the lounge, floor and covering the kids. They have taken the water jug out and watered the furniture! Then i notice the yellow goop in their hair… wtf do we have thats gooey and yellow?

Then i see it… the upturned container on the floor, its contents smeared on the windows, floor, couch cushions and TV… BUTTER!!

The kids think this is the height of brilliance and are licking the butter off the TV screen declaring how YUMMY it is!

I stand there for a minute deciding how to tackle the mess. The kids are running through the butter clumps on the floor and smearing the goo everywhere. I decide to toss them outside and spray them with the high pressure hose.

Kidding, although the thought did cross my mind briefly…

Stripped and into a hot shower, i leave them to splash each other while i mop and wipe up the buttery mess, trying not to break my neck slipping over.
Are these the faces of remorse?

.. i think not…