I will survive

You know it's been a bad couple of days when you try to go shopping for a birthday present for your husband whose birthday happens to be today and when you get to the shopping centre the first person you lay eyes on happens to be the police officer who charged you with shoplifting two years ago.

We've been trying to buy a new car and for all intents and purposes we've bought one. The bank has agreed to loan us the money but they're a long time coming forward with the dollars. We're anxious and very much looking forward to having a car with four doors because a car with two doors is only fit for a Barbie doll who gets put into and out of it by a much larger human being. So the week has been so far taken up with trying to sort that out.

Yesterday when I arrived to collect Henry from daycare he came walking over to me very slowly which in itself is unusual. He normally bounds into my arms and wraps his arms around my neck as though he hasn't seen me in months. I took one look at his pale, bluish face and knew instantly something wasn't right. The ladies there told me he had been very quiet for some time and had been complaining of a headache. I held back from screaming at them that they should have called me earlier and the fact that Henry was sitting quiety should have rung alarm bells for them. He NEVER does that.
I picked him up and he was limp and appeared to be gasping for breath. I didn't wait around to hear their explanations. I got him into the car and drove straight to the doctor. They agreed to see him straight away but we still had a few moments to wait. I sat him on the chair and he flopped down into it. His lips started turning blue. He still appeared to be gasping for air. I tried to remain calm and refrain from screaming that someone had to call an ambulance. The receptionist showed me to a room and we waited for a few more minutes before the doctor came. He sat on my lap so quietly. He was clammy and grey. Then he threw up. The doctor came and checked him over and decided he probably had a tummy bug. He seemed to pick up a bit after he got whatever it was in his system that didn't agree with him out.

By the time we got home he was almost back to normal. He wanted food and drinks and his colour had returned. He went to bed reasonably early and had an uneventful night until he woke up to vomit again at 5AM. He's been fine ever since. If it was a tummy bug it seems to have been short lived.

Poor Ben had to wake up to a distinct lack of birthday gifts this morning because I simply haven't had a chance to get to the shops to find something. Feeling bad and noting that Henry seemed fine I decided to take a chance on taking him to the shops with me to get something. Taking Henry to the shops is sometimes akin to deliberately grating my knuckles on the cheesegrater. It's painful and useless. I told myself it wouldn't take long, we'd just duck in and come straight back out.

Despite my promise never to go there again after being charged with shoplifting when I unknowlingly walked out of the store with $4.00 worth of children's undies hanging on the side of the pram, I headed directly to Myareyouashoplifter because I thought I would find more of a range of gifts all in the one location.

As I walked in the door a saleslady hawking beds that were drastically marked down bailed me up in an attempt to have me lie on one in order to convince me that my chiropractic problems would be solved just by handing over a store card. While she was doing so Henry decided to slip away while he had the chance. I didn't even notice him do it. I turned to grab his hand but he wasn't there. As we were close to the Thomas the Tank ride I thought he must have headed directly to that. I wasn't concerned because that's what he always does. I had to cut the saleslady off short and while she was mid sentence I just took off in search of him. When I got there and he wasn't there I immediately started to panic. I started running up and down the centre calling out his name. I knocked people out of my way and ran in and out of shops in the hope he was in one of them. I rode down the escalator wondering if he'd gone out into the carpark. As I was about to concede defeat and head for security I saw him with two ladies. He was crying his eyes out as he realised he was lost. They were looking around searchingly but with a look on their face that said "what kind of mother loses her kid in a shopping centre". I guess I can't blame them for thinking that as Henry was still in his pyjamas because they're his favourites and he didn't want to take them off to go shopping. He thinks he looks very cool in them. I didn't care. I just needed to go to the shops and didn't have the time for arguing. When he saw me he came running towards me and grabbed hold of my legs. I waved to the two women he had been standing with and they responded with a scowl. I deserved it I guess but they are probably the kind of mothers who are able to bake a batch of cookies at the same time as braiding their daughter's hair and ironing their husband's underpants.

So with that little drama sorted I headed back to Myareyouashoplifter. I had Henry in my arms who was screaming in protest at having to be confined. As I walked in the door this time the police officer was walking directly towards me. We locked eyes. I stared my most Ugly Mean Trailer Trash Woman stare while Henry was doing his best to escape my clutches and yelling "Mum, I don't like it!" at the fact that I was holding him so tight. "Great" I thought. "Not only have I almost lost my child this morning, I've also run across Little Miss Chargey Pants in the same place I was caught unknowingly thieving. And my son is screaming at me as though I've been torturing him". I wondered if the day could possibly get any worse.

It took us about 45 mintues to get to the section of the store that I wanted because in their desperate bid to cash in on the Christmas spending they've strategically placed all manner of sparkling, colourful, glittering eye candy that children just love to poke and yank.

We finally got where we needed to be, quickly grabbed the first thing off the shelf we could find, took it to the counter, paid and proceeded to leave. Of course it's never that easy. On our way out Henry heard and spotted the Christmas shop that is full of North Pole Express trains running around Christmas Tree displays. Not wanting to make a scene and have him throw a fit right there in the menswear department where lovely home making ladies were talking to sales people about having a tailor take up pants for their husbands, I caved in and took him to see all the thousands of Santas riding the express and hanging from fake tree branches. He ooed and aahhed and would have stayed there for hours had I not bribed him away with the promise of a treat.

We went to lunch, I managed to get him to sit quietly and eat for about 15 minutes then decided I'd try to get him a haircut at the Barber before we left. This particular Barber doesn't take appointments and because they're so popular you just line up like you're in a cattle chute wait to be released. The line up didn't seem too long so I decided to risk it. His hair resembled an electrocuted cat and I didn't want to take him public anymore like that because that, combined with his pyjamas, was making me look like a bad mama. We sat down on a bench and waited. Problem was we happened to be sitting right next to a sour faced old Granny who wore painted-on eyebrows and pursed lips. As we approached she clutched her handbag to her and turned around and gave Henry, who was jumping on and off the chair, a death stare. She then turned to me and said "I don't like what Julie did to my hair today. Next time I'll tell her to give me my old colour back. She didn't even ask me, just did it". She looked like she was about to burst into tears. I almost felt sorry for her until she said "I'm glad that kid is yours and not mine. I don't know how you cope with him". All my protective instincts came into play and I simply said "I cope because I love him". She then started to tell me her husband had left her there waiting for over an hour. She had no idea where he was and he had never left her that long before. I also heard about how she has no time for her grandkids and great grandkids. I really felt sorry for her then because I realised how lonely and sad her life must be.

We finally got called into the hair dresser and while I won't say Henry was co-operative he at least didn't keep trying to escape from the chair this time. Job done. It was time to head home and by this stage he was happy to go without complaint. He came home and fell asleep and I decided that I'd upload all the recent photos from the camera to the computer and update my blog. Of course nothing ever goes smoothly and for some reason the computer won't recognise the camera which is why I have no new photos to show you...

Now, I'm going to call a mental health helpline...