Hosted by Mrs4444.
I’ve been a bit scarce around the blogosphere this week on account of it not having been the greatest week ever, I tend to read but not post or comment when I’m stressed. I don’t really have much by way of amusement or fascination to offer today, rather I seem to be dumping a whole lot of whinging out for you instead. For fragments that might be a little more fun to read, head on over to Half-Past Kissin’ Time and find out what everyone else has on offer this week.
On Sunday night last weekend I started working on stuff for my paid job at 10:30pm. I finished at 8:30am. Now, I knew I had a lot of work to do but due to not realising that the number of emails showing against my work folder represented about half of what was actually in the folder (I didn’t realise how many I’d “read” when moving them from the inbox) I had expected to hit the sack by about 4am. Monday, as you may imagine, was a bit of a write-off.
One of the reasons I didn’t start working till 10:30pm was that we’d spent Sunday afternoon and evening at Coogee beach with some blog-friends from the Hoyden About Town community. It was a lovely day, not too hot, the kids swam and played on the beach and I got to sit around chatting for several hours. Then we had fish and chips for dinner and headed off home as the light began to fade. That part of my week was pretty good really.
My wonderful Mum looked after the kids for me on Tuesday morning so I could go in to the office for a few hours. I don’t like asking her to have the kids so I can work and I don’t do it often, maybe a few times a year, but she assures me they’re really quite pleasant to have around. I do think it’s a less onerous job now that they’re older and more independent.
When I came back from work we all headed down to my Grandma’s place for a visit. During the course of conversation I told Grandma that I was expecting things to be much less stressful this year as I would have less stuff on my plate and that I was looking forward to having more time to come and see her. But I didn’t say “touch wood” and that may have been a mistake.
On Wednesday I took my Dad for some medical tests (which all turned out fine) and then brought him back to my place for a bit. He was looking rather distressed so I asked if he was ok.
Umm. No. Apparently not.
Turns out he’s been in the throes of a manic episode for the last 2 months. I knew he was a bit high, I’d even rung his doctor at one point to express my concern and I’d been reassured by the fact that Dad was seeing his doctor regularly and that his medication was being adjusted and that it was all under control. Well, I’m not sure that I call spending every last cent of your retirement savings and doing a bunch of other stuff which I won’t be writing about here counts as being under control. I’m just really thankful that his superannuation pensions are safe and that he decided to tell me and ask for help before he wound up crashing into a major depression as has happened in the past. Bipolar sucks.
I took the kids to Pymble pool today, it was a bit of an effort to leave the lovely air-conditioned comfort of the house and brave the 38°C (100.4F) heat but the prospect of plunging into the cool water made it seem worthwhile. Which it would have been if the pool hadn’t been practically lukewarm. Warm chlorinated water is anathema to me, it’s why I hate indoor pools and it makes me feel ill. But there was no way I was getting out and sitting in the heat while the kids swam so I stuck it out. The kids tried to drown each other and me for a while until in desperation I invented a new game. We all ducked underwater at the same time and tried to work out what one person was yelling while submerged. Kept them amused for a remarkably long time, especially when I choked while trying to yell “CANDY CANE.” We then switched to sea-creature charades, my sea-horse was apparently completely baffling, Caitlin did a very convincing jelly fish, David’s starfish was instantly recognisable and Tom was revealed as a moray eel in disguise.
Tonight we’ve had Dad here at our place, fed him a roast pork dinner, and gone through the figures for his finances. I’ve been able to convince him that he is not going to end up destitute within the week and that he can actually afford to continue living where he is. He will have to sell his car and cut up his credit cards but it should all work out in the end. He’s much, much calmer than he was on Wednesday and I’m hopeful that with the right care he won’t end up completely falling apart this time.
I’m taking him grocery shopping in the morning because he’s not up to doing that on his own and we’ll have him over for a meal at least twice a week for the foreseeable future. My Mum will be helping out too and will drive him to his appointment with his psychiatrist on Monday. I haven’t been game to ask how things stand with his girlfriend, they weren’t living together so I’m not sure what she knows or how she’s reacted to the situation. I am wondering if I ought to be inviting him to come and stay with us for a while, but to be perfectly honest I’m not sure I’d be able to cope with that.
It’s supposed to be even hotter tomorrow, we’ll probably hit the 40°C mark here. I plan on hiding inside with large quantities of cold drinks. But Sunday is promising to be much more civilized, perhaps we’ll head off to the beach again!