Thursday, 1 December 2011

Dramatic evening

Tonight after a late dinner Jellybean started complaining he was 'cold and hot'.
He's had a cold so I thought he had a bit of sleepy chilly feeling from that, so I cuddled him and rubbed his back and arms vigorously to warm him up.
I noticed a small blister with a red patch on his face and tweeted a pic, not particularly worried, to see if anyone had an idea what it was.

Then he kept asking me to "rubadub" him so alarm bells started ringing - I whipped off his top and sure enough his whole body was covered in the mysterious rash! He was scorching hot to touch on the patches and blistering all over before my eyes.

I spoke to my sister in law, who happens to be a GP (which is rather good!) and she said it sounded like a viral rash. I decided to get him into bed and snuggled up filled with calpol and covered in cream, but then he started getting distressed.

The itching was clearly upsetting him, the red patches were growing and he couldn't stop finding new itches; "Mummy, rubadub my back. Mummy. Rubadub my nose. Mummy, rubadub my arms. Mummy, rubadub my tummy!" and then he started screaming because it was so sore and itchy.

With that I whipped both boys into coats, into the car and off we sped to the out of hours GP.

Luckily they whisked us straight in to a doctor and she examined Jellybean then said it looked like an allergic reaction to something. I have no idea what - but a spoon full of piriton and a lot of cuddles later he's calmed right down.

The rash has faded, his temperature has dropped and he seems more like his usual self.


I don't know what he's allergic to but it was very scary seeing that rash take over his little body so quickly!

Monday, 28 November 2011

I'm not a freak

I spent a huge proportion of my young life feeling like an outsider. Feeling like I didn't fit with the people around me, like I stood out, separate somehow. 

I felt that I had to change who I was and how I behaved to fit - that everyone else somehow understood some rules I'd never been told, and managed to live by them.

I never understood the rules, and the harder I tried to fit with everyone around me, the less I did. It was too obvious that I didn't know what I was doing, who I was, how I felt about things. 

I knew that the person I was inside wasn't the person I was being for people.

That made me angry - angry at myself, for pretending and wanting so desperately to make people like me. Angry at other people for not realising. Angry at everyone and everything. Angry at the people who cared about me for not helping (though they tried, constantly). Angry at the people I cared about who didn't give a toss. 

I was angry at other kids because they all 'got it' and seemed so much happier.

I was angry that other people seemed to find it easy to make friends and be happy, and I found both of those things impossible. 

Then I moved a few times, wandered a little, lost myself, lost a lot of other people, felt lost and lonely and scared.

Then I found home. Home is my family - this little family that I have now. My husband, my children. Home. 

Over the last few years, since I stopped trying so hard and settled for just being myself, I've found life so much easier.

I realised that I didn't need to pretend anything, or force it, or change who I was to try to 'make' people like me. If I'm just myself some people just like me anyway - because I'm not actually loathesome. 

Then again - some people think I'm loathesome. That's ok - in many cases the feeling is mutual, or at the very least I think some people are insignificant - I hope they think I'm insignificant rather than loathesome, but enough people DO like me that it doesn't really matter. 

I know that's a lesson people generally learn much earlier than I did - just to be yourself, and that that's enough - it took me a long time to get it - but I get it now. 

Because I get it, it actually turns out that quite a few people like me - and that making friends is pretty easy. 

I used to assume that if someone was nice to me it was some kind of trick - then I'd be so wary, waiting for the joke to be on me, that I'd drive a wedge in, ruining any potential for friendship. 

Now, if someone's nice to me, I just trust it - and trust that people are actually just nice, for the most part. This works pretty well - and I'm beginning to feel like I actually have quite a lot of friends. I have a lot of nice interaction with people, anyway - and I'm far happier for that change!

Another change in the last few years is that I'm altogether more comfortable with who I am - with how I look, sound, the things I like, the way I talk. So many things I was always very self conscious about.

I used to think that everyone was staring at me, judging me, hating me - actually they aren't. Not only are they not but they're not really even noticing me - I'm just another face in the crowd. It isn't that I thought the opposite of the truth - because people aren't gazing adoringly at me and thinking I'm incredible either - I'm just another person, walking past you in asda. I'm nobody important. 

THAT is a great thing to learn, and to understand. The whole world doesn't hate me - why on earth am I special enough for the whole world to have an opinion on? I'm not - and they don't. 

But most of the people who DO know me seem to think reasonably well of me. Not all, but enough that matter. 

I don't really know where I'm going with this - can you tell?

I do a lot of talking about how awesome I am, and how brilliant and talented, beautiful and amazing I am. For the record - in case it isn't obvious - I'm fibbing. I don't actually think all those things - I don't hate myself, but I'm not ACTUALLY a walking, talking ego either. I'm just more pro me than anti me right now. It's a good thing. All that "Hell yes, I'm fan-bastarding-tastic' is just a joke: it started as an in joke with someone then just became how I act because it makes me laugh. Rather than thinking I'm a dick, join in - tell me how rock star, glittery von awesome cakes YOU are. The more you do it, the more you believe it - and it doesn't half make a difference when you walk into a room.

Don't be down on you - it only makes other people think it's ok to do the same.