struck by a stroke

It's been a funny week. Last year, every day was dominated by my mum's stroke - either in the practical arrangements of travelling constantly to Belfast with a newborn and two children, or the emotional - the sheer pain and weight of missing her. But this year has brought an acceptance, an ability to take the weight off my shoulders occassionally and live my life, even enjoy it. Her stroke has melded into our lives instead of dominating it - and living with it has become a way of life.
But there are moments when it flares again, a reminder of what is, and what was.
Yesterday my brother was over seeing my mum. He decided to wheel her round to one of her friends for a change of scenery. On the phone to him earlier, I had begged him to put something decent on her, brush her hair and put on a bit of lippy. My brother and dad are great with my mum, but let's face it, they're men. She has a tendency to look like the Wild Woman of the West in their care. An hour later he called back. He needed guidance. He had made sure she had some good clothes on and now he stood opposite her, staring into the mystical abyss that was a woman's make-up bag and he needed me to tell him what to do. So I found myself standing in my kitchen, phone in hand, directing my 46 year old brother on powder blush and lipstick.
"Is it meant to leave a brown ring around her face?" he enquired dubiously.
I'm not sure how she looked in the end, but he tried. And I love him even more for it.
And today, one of my articles appeared in the Irish Times. I had written it a couple of months ago, and I HAD written it. But still. It was a shock. To see our story in print. To see my account of my mum's stroke in a national newspaper. I link it here. http://www.irishtimes.com/newspaper/health/2012/0306/1224312843616.html
The impact of a stroke can strike at any time.

The gorgeous and the grotesque

Children. They are the ridiculous and the sublime, and everything in between...including the gorgeaous and grotesque. I'll start with the latter - and I suggest you look away now if you are anyway sensitive.

Yesterday I had the unglamorous task of chasing my toddler round the house trying to get the soggy tissue paper out of her mouth....... tissue paper that was soggy because she had retrieved it from the toilet..... the toilet that was full of my eldest daughter's poo before she had had a chance to flush. Not one of my better moments. I only recovered when they were all gorgeous this morning. As we ate breakfast, they broke into a spontanious Raspberry finger puppet show - like you do. I was still laughing 8 hours later....

Although I was momentarily sobered by a event mid-morning. I was baking brownies (sometimes I have to admit that baking has nothing to do with the kids, and everything to do with my mid-morning snack cravings) and Ruby was playing on the decking where a long slithery worm was casually making its way to nowhere. I turned my back for a moment to stir the chocolate and when I returned, the worm was no more. Maybe he was a super-worm and slithered really really fast. Sometimes it's just better not to know....