Give me a pin

Sometimes it feel like things just get too much. When things don't go according to plan for a few weeks in a row I feel like I'm stuck inside an expanding bubble that's building momentum as it rolls down a steep hill. All I can hope for is that it jags on an abandoned stiletto and bursts.

The last few weeks have been like that for me. Yesterday was the day I felt the bubble had rolled long enough but I didn't stumble across any abandoned stilettos. To top of a few weeks of frustration I walk into the surgery of a specialist doctor I've been seeing at three monthly intervals for the past two and a half years and he says I don't really remember you and I should because your case is very interesting. I think my jaw nearly hit the floor. This was the supposed guru I had been told by everyone was the man to see, the person who recently told me to spend two days in the hospital so they could try to work out what was going on, the person who each time I have visited has asked me to retell my story. The last few times I did that I thought it was simply because he wanted an update. When he told me he didn't remember me I thought I was going to have to stand up and bash him stupid with my handbag. I was that frustrated. Mind you I was feeling a little fragile even before I arrived but I think I was justified in my anger.

So I ask him to check his files to refresh his memory. He tells me that would take too long and he wouldn't be able to find everything he needed in a hurry. I offer no response and just stare at him. He starts yawning. By now I've resigned myself to the fact that this visit, like all the others, is a complete waste of time and decide to remain silent. I won't offer anything. If he can't look through his files I can't help him. He talks about stuff I already knew. I walk out no wiser than I was before I arrived.

I spent the rest of the day getting in and out of the car driving kids around dropping them off, picking them up, doing the grocery shopping...I know, it's boring but all I felt like doing yesterday was lying on the couch watching the mindless banter on Ready Steady Cook with a bottle of wine, and a cold pack on my forehead.

Because Henry hadn't slept he was like some wild feral child who had been found wandering around the jungle communicating only with animals by the time I collected him from my mother and brought him home. He's been sick again and a recent visit to the ENT specialist has revealed that he'll likely need grommets in his ears. His entire winter was spent with an ear infection, treated by antibiotics. It just never cleared up fully and has now become "glue ear". We've booked him in for the surgery, on my birthday no less, but I'm hoping that it may clear up on it's own before then as I don't want to have to subject him to a general anesthetic if it's not necessary. It's possible that it will now that the warmer weather is upon us. If it doesn't and we don't get the grommets he could have permanent hearing loss and possible further infections elsewhere. The ridiculous thing is that the plastic grommets themselves - little plastic tubes - cost a grand total of $40. The operation to insert them will cost over $1000.

Maya is home for the next two weeks because it's school holidays. She's planned shopping trips but has no money because she hasn't worked for a couple of weeks as she was sick and then away at school camp. She's going to ask me for some but I have none to give her either and even if I did I wouldn't be handing it over as she will only buy more clothes she doesn't need. She has her school semi-formal coming up - in November- but for some reason all of her friends bought their dresses like way back in grade 8 (not quite but very early) and Maya has been nagging me to take her shopping so she could buy hers. We did last weekend and bought something fabulous that was also fabulously priced. I had been discouraging her from trying to get it so soon as I know her too well. Once she owns something she is over it and wants something else. I had advised her to leave it until only a couple of weeks prior to the formal so there was less chance she'd grow to hate it and want something else. But no...mother's don't know anything. It had to be bought soon, like now, because everyone else had theirs. We searched through what seemed like several hundreds shops, some of them Maya declared too old lady, some just plain ugly. Just as we were about to give up we spotted a dress - she loved it, tried it on and it looked perfect. Beautiful! We both agreed that it was just right. We hadn't yet looked at the price tag of it and I was expecting maybe $150 at least. I snuck a peek and when I saw the orange sale price tag that said $9.95 I couldn't believe it. I rushed outside to the rack to check the others and found that it was indeed marked down to $9.95. I ran back screaming to Maya - Oh my God, it's like only $9.95, oh my God. She cringed and hid down in the corner of the dressing room.

We paid for the dress and left. As we were walking out of the centre only five minutes later Maya says "I'm not really in love with that dress." I knew it, I knew it was going to happen but I didn't think it would be so soon. I thought it might take a day but five minutes. I blew my stack right there in the shopping centre, in front of all the shoppers, who were shopping - I said all the usual things like I knew it, I knew you would do this, that's it, if you want another dress you have to ask your father, I've done my bit. God, you're so ungrateful. I just spent a whole $9.95 on a dress for you and this is how you show your gratitude. Just like it doesn't matter that I nearly went broke for you.

Poor thing, she skulked to the car, came home and took the dress to show her friend who declared it beautiful and perfect and stunning. She was fine after that and hasn't asked me for another one yet. She will though.

I hope my bubble bursts today so I can breathe again.