Foresight

What irks me, is that I have to admit that there are things I cannot do anymore, like standing next to the rugby field, or explaining to the kids why I cannot cycle right now.
What also gets my goat, is that I feel blooming tearful, often cry and complain of my (significant) pain levels.
Every day has roughly been the same for the past 6,5 months and I can't see this letting up.
I wish I knew, either way - to know what to expect.

Today I walked around with a devil on my shoulder, thinking I would rather disappear, until Son#3 told me I wasn't lonely because he was with me.
Bless.

Will things get better???
I don't know.
I seem to be unable to stand this ever-present physical pain anymore.
Fibromyalgia???
Who knows.
It's a bit of a bitch anyway, if you ask me.


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Country Kids

A lazy day.

I popped pain medication last night and feel a bit better and a little less sorry for myself.

Plus:  the sun has been shining all day, and that makes everything better.

The husband and I have sorted our home-swapping account, and we hope to find a friendly family to swap houses with this summer.

Hopefully they have a pool and live in a very hot country.

Son#1 and #2 met up with friends and came home with a large plastic container full of tadpoles and frogs.

Sons #2 and #3 have been conversing with them ever since.

These are the things only kids living out in the countryside can do, methinks.

The kids are off school until Wednesday.

I have a lot of studying to do, but nice stuff to learn so it's not too much of a punishment.

Lazy weekends are the very best.

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Just hummmm along

A kind lady called me from my university in South Africa, discussing my requests for exemption and deferment of study units that have all run aground because of this damn illness.

I cried like a baby, and she listened.

South Africans are generally kind.

I also have to make decisions regarding work and that's a tall order considering that I can't even decide what's for dinner.

Meanwhile, Son#3 is knackered from this school-thing.

I let him stay home today for the second time this week.

Even just from pottering around outside, watering plants and leaving lumps of sandpit sand all over the garden, he fell asleep on the couch.

Son#1 had detention because of fighting at school.

Sigh.

Son#2 is in his room after he exploded yet again and stormed off down the street when he heard the word 'no'.

Double sigh.

But the husband called to tell me that he's bringing dinner home and that, dear reader, is just allright by me.

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In the Solitude of Evening

Life has been quiet.
I was supposed to start working again but that fell by the wayside when I got bronchitis.
More antibiotics plus Prednison this time, the latter which left me feeling bruised all over, the former delivering fatigue & nausea.
I hate medicine.
I'm finished with my heavy-dose meds but still the fever lingers, as does the ever-increasing stiffness in my limbs.
Left leg: nigh useless when one needs to bend it.

But.
There are good and bad moments and as long as this magical mix continues, I can still find something to laugh about.


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Trauma

My father-in-law turned 80 and we went to Dishoek with them to celebrate.

The wind whipped the sand up, nearly blowing us off the dune on the way down to the beach.

Birds surfing the airstreams overhead.

Rough seas too.

We sat inside and the boys played outside.

At one stage, I walked out to check on them, only to find Son#3 missing in action.

Full-scale panic.

Swallowed by the angry waves?

Abducted by a crazy kid collector?

Luckily, a lady just coming down from the dunes asked if I was looking for a boy with curls, whom she saw on the dune.

Up I ran, to eventually find him way down below in the car park, having crossed a road too.

After shocking tears and a dinner I was unable to taste, we went home.

Older and wiser.

Sigh.

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Good Times

Dishoek Bliss.

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Warm Nest

Son#2 pulled a fast one again: just as we were driving away after dropping him off at the in-laws', his face pulled into an anguished mask and he said he didn't want to stay after all.
Once the decision was made, he was supremely content with life.
He said he would miss me too much. 
Poor bubby.

Of course Son#1 seized the opportunity to stay in his brother's stead.
He sends me text messages and is hawking his Loom bracelets, hoping his grandparents will bite.

The husband is off in the morning to help a meticulous friend, fixing and scrubbing his yacht which hasn't sailed in two years.
We'll drive to the coast in the afternoon with #2 and #3.
If the weather holds.

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