You know that scene at the end of bad action movies, where the grizzled and slightly bloodied hero hugs the buxom blonde with the suggestively torn denim shirt on top of the slightly burning pile of rubble? The one where the villian, who seemed to have been defeated with the one mighty punch, rises up out of the rubble and aims a gun at the blonde?
Well, it feels like my proposed mini-series of a life has transformed into this action movie, although at the moment, it looks like I won’t be delivering a cocky one-liner before tossing the hand grenade at the villian’s feet, blowing him off the wobbly precipice to a falling death below for some time…
After last night’s CBD-centric shenanigans, I had planned a quiet day and quiet evening. Di’s written up the day (non-quiet, for those of you who don’t want to click links). The evening seemed simpler; a little takeaway pizza (we were far too tired to cook anything) and settled the kids down. Di was feeling pretty wrecked, and I wasn’t too far behind her; my lungs in particular feel like they’re coming down with a solid case of Zoe’s cough from last week. Such fun.
Di headed off to grab some much-needed sleep at around 8:30pm, and I settled down to do some work, as I’m somewhat behind on my schedules right now. Fate had other ideas in mind, though, as James and Zoe unwittingly did a serious job of double-teaming my time, waking on almost five-minute intervals with problems — James especially, who kept slinking out of his bed and sliding downstairs to break my concentration until I settled him again. This continued through to about 11pm, by which time I was feeling more than a touch frazzled. Di came down to help with the settling, which finally kicked in around midnight.
At which point the contractions and the bleeding kicked in for Di.
Yep, been here before. Call the maternity ward at Hornsby Hospital, and they want her to come in. It’s about 1am by now, so after trying a few people to see if we can do the childminding thing, we give up and just head in with them. For the record, both kids are lighter than my brother, although the center of gravity needed to carry them is entirely different than to prop him up. Di headed in for her examination, and I tried to settle the kids for at least a brief sleep in the waiting room while we got a prognosis. James was dead asleep in my arms (figures) but Zoe wouldn’t setttle — not that the waiting room is that comfortable or anything. After what seemed like a longer wait than it probably was, one of the midwives came in for a chat. Di was stable, and they didn’t think it was too serious, so they were most likely going to just keep her overnight. After a quick check on her in the examination room, I headed back home with the kids. It’s not much fun opening the heavy fire doors that form the after-hours access to maternity when you’ve got a sleeping 12kg infant in your arms, I can tell you.
By now, it’s about 2am, and it feels strangely reminiscent for me to be travelling through the streets of Hornsby in the wee hours.. Oh yeah. That was last night’s problem too. At least this time I’ve got a car.
Got home at around ten past, with a very asleep James in the back seat, and a very awake and freaked out Zoe next to him. She wouldn’t settle in her own bed, so I put her in mine and tried to get her to go to sleep, which she eventually did, around 3am. Where did I last do a 3am sleep? Oh, yeah, that’s right. Last night.
By now, my lungs feel like someone’s dragging a cheese grater across them, so some sleep would be really handy. Just to check if you’ve been paying attention, here’s a short multiple-choice quiz. Remember folks, this is all for fun — no wagering, please.
Did the cats wake up Alex at:
a) 7am?
b) 11am, with freshly brewed coffee, toast and eggs, sunny side up?
c) 4:30am by running, claws out, over his arm?
If you answered
a) Yeah, nice theory. Fails the practical
b) You really haven’t been paying attention, have you?
c) You win a fabulous copy of our home game! *
*RRP: $0.01c. Not transferable for cash. May contain radioactive playing parts.
I’m just settling back to sleep at 5am… when James wakes up.
So, to recap, the blonde (well, OK, in this case she’s a beautiful brunette, but you try selling that to Hollywood) has been rescued, but the hero has by now had fewer hours of sleep since Friday morning than he has fingers on his right hand. Any fancy quips at this stage will have to be croaked out, or perhaps delivered in semaphore, and I’m sure that I’ve moved from handsome leading man stakes to grizzled old-timer stakes, which probably means a telemovie starring, say, Michael Hasslehoff. Mr T can play one of the midwives, and one of the cast members from “Little House On The Prarie” can have a brief cameo as a cab driver.