To Dream of Riches

Tonight the Oz 7 lottery jackpots to an estimated $90 million. Holy crap that's a lot of money. I will admit to playing my weekly lottery numbers in Powerball and the Wednesday Gold Lotto despite the fact that the most I've ever won is roughly $70. I limit myself to how much I spend each week, and I think the $12 I spend on having a go and dreaming of a life of luxury is no more dangerous than spending it on chocolate bars or a bottle of wine. If there came a time when I could not afford the $12 then I would have no problems in not betting.

I normally don't buy an Oz 7 ticket as they are the most expensive and the jackpots are normally no better than the ones I usually play. But for the last couple of weeks I've made an exception as the jackpots have been $20 million, $50 million and now $90 million. I won $21 in that first week and $12 last week. So if I continue my current trend I win will exactly nothing this week and will spend all of 5 seconds being insanely jealous of the person who ends up winning before I move on to the next thing.

But if I did somehow defy the odds of 1 in 45 million (or something ridiculous like that) and win, and I should mention that lottery winnings in Australia are TAX FREE, here are some of the things I'd spend it on (in no particular order):

** I would, of course, instantly pay off my bills. My car, camper trailer and mortgage - gone!

** I don't think I'd move - I like where we are but I would do extensive renovations to Chez Mooselet, starting with the kitchen and bathrooms.

** I would buy The Hermit a new toy.

** I would buy business class tickets for that visit back to the States that we're saving for. I would say first class but I'm not sure I'd know what to do with myself. I would also plan a trip to the UK and indulge my inner history buff.

** I would put aside money for each of the kids and our parents.

** I would indulge in a bit of, er, cosmetic touch up. Fix my teeth, give the twins a boost, loose the gut. Yes, I am a little bit vain. But only a little.

** I would give money to charity - I'd be a bit choosey, but I would likely give to children's causes, The Salvation Army and the hospice that took care of Poppa Mooselet.

** I would NOT quit my job. I didn't work as hard as I did to get back into nursing to just walk away from it. This does not extend to the Large Grocery Store That Employs Me - I'd quit that the next day. I'm certain The Hermit would quit his regular job, however. Then he could oversee the house renovations.

** Season passes to my beloved Brisbane Broncos, front and centre.

What would you do with $90 million?

Saturday Skinfest

Well as promised I'm back. Kiddies are in bed, pain is under control (thanks codeine) and it's time for some skin.

Time to celebrate the Queensland win in this year's State of Origin with an all Queensland spread, least for the blokes:

North Queensland Cowboys captain, halfback and stud muffin Johnathan Thurston.

Is that a nipple ring on Queenslander Greg Inglis? I do hope he's back for Origin III.

Brisbane Broncos forward Corey Parker. Very tasty...

I've found a new source for NRL cheergirl pics, so we'll be seeing more of them in the future. I have no idea where these girls are from - maybe the Cowboys? Do you really care, however?

More skin next week!

A Must for the Grammatically Correct

I have several friends who are self-proclaimed grammar police, most notably Mumfies and Jen. I am aware Jen and I (or is that 'Jen and me'?) have never actually met, but when someone sends you Cherry M&Ms that person is your friend. M'kay? I'm not always up on where my apostrophies should go, and I couldn't identify a dangling participle if it was hanging off the end my nose but I always have my spell check on and I know the difference between their, there, and they're thankyouverymuch. I hate reading notices from school, especially from teachers, that don't get the basics right. I want to send them back corrected. I get embarrassed when I make a simple grammar mistake - not just "oops my bad" but really embarrassed. I have issues.

With that in mind, when I found this website this morning I simply had to share it with you: The "Blog" of "Unnecessary" Quotation Marks. Quotation marks are being increasingly misused in society, often with unintentionally hilarious results for those in the "know":




Skinfest to come later today when the kids aren't around so they don't ask "Mummy, why are those men naked?" Meanwhile, have a few laughs at the expense of the grammatically challenged.

Photo Friday

If you're a Facebook friend of mine, you will have heard the news about Clive's ear - the damage is less than first feared and he will make a full recovery. There's no damage to the bones behind the punctured drum, which should heal on its own over the coming weeks. Good news indeed.

Just like a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow:

Taken at Wests Juniors field sometime in May 2009.

Words of Wisdom

"You should always be nice to your little brother, or little sister, even if they are a pain in the butt sometimes." - Her Majesty, 23 June 2009

Good Thing I Had That Appointment

Since I had to share it with Clive.

As I was getting ready to go and see my GP about my ongoing stomach issues, aka Bubba, Clive decided he would come into the bathroom and keep my company. I was in the shower when Clive brought one of the kids stools over to the countertop and started reaching for things that were normally out of his two-year-old grasp. Usually he just wants to wash his hands or brush his teeth with our toothbrushes. It was hard for me to see him between the water, the shower glass and no glasses or contacts, but it looked like he was going for the cotton buds, or Q-Tips as we call them back Stateside.

"Clive," I said in my best warning voice. "Put those down." He loves cotton buds, and The Hermit and I are always having to put them well out of reach and not let him help us when we clean his ears.

And as usual, Clive ignored me. I started rushing through the rest of my shower, continuing my litany of "Put those away NOW."

As best as I can figure, Clive lost a little of his balance while stepping back up on to, or maybe down from, the stool. With a cotton bud in his ear. Can you see what happened? He fell against the doors with the side of his head that had the bud in it... and let out a loud shriek of pain just as I turned off the water.

I knew it, as soon as I heard his scream, that he'd done some serious damage. I calmed him the best I could, which wasn't all that much as he clutched his ear, dressed quickly and hustled out the door to the GP. I figured he could have my appointment, if nothing else.

Since my GP is totally awesome she naturally saw us both (although not so totally awesome that they didn't bill us both, but since they bulk bill for kids 16 and under it didn't cost me any more than if I had gone), with Clive first up. And yes, as I suspected but hoped against, he ruptured his right eardrum. I think her words were "totally shredded". She put a call into the ENT registrar up at Royal Children's Hospital so Clive could get in right away.

As it turned out, they phoned me an hour or so later and we determined that since there was no bleeding - aside from the initial blood from the rupture - and Clive was now comfortable they would see Clive in their clinic on Friday. To look at Clive just before bedtime you'd never know what had happened earlier that day. Unless you looked into his right ear and saw the dried blood.

So don't I feel like the worst mother ever. I managed 3 kids before Clive without any traumatic at home injury, but now... I know kids hurt themselves all. The. Time. Gabe and I are walking proof of that. But this is my first serious one with one of my kids, and I feel terrible about it.

As for my own problems with Bubba, the GP feels pretty certain it's my gallbladder. And I admit to letting out an "oww" when she started poking at my right side, as opposed to the muffled "mmmphf's" I let out when she poked the rest of my abdomen. I'm off for blood tests and an ultrasound tomorrow, then an appointment next week to discuss the results and the plan - which will likely be a referral to a surgeon to get Bubba removed.

As of this moment, Clive is asleep and I'm curled up on the couch watching game 2 of State of Origin with more cramps and belching instead of working for The Large Grocery Store That Employs Me like I'm scheduled to. I'm taking lots of pain killers and muscle relaxants to try and feel better (although having to listen to Gus Gould may negate the effect of the drugs), and Clive seems pain-free. I could really do without this, but I'd take it all and then some if it meant poor Clive didn't have to have this day.

Blech

That's pretty much how I feel... blech. Or maybe that should be 'belch'?

I feel like I've been hit by a bus.

Upon my 3rd morning waking up feeling thus, I've finally phoned my GP and made an appointment for late tomorrow morning. If that doesn't guarantee I wake up tomorrow feeling great then nothing will.

I can't even say I'm sick, because to me 'sick' means a virus or bacterial infection of some sort. Lots of coughing and sneezing and fevers, aches and pains, chills... and I have none of those.

Well, I do have the aches and pains, but none of them in my head. This... whatever it is... is confined to my abdomen. From my diaphragm to my belly button is an absolute mess. It feels like a big hairy man named Bubba has repeatedly kicked me in the gut. This constant pain is accompanied by:

* Bubba occasionally reaching into my abdomen and giving my insides a good twist with his fist, leaving me hunched over and a little breathless. I'd just say I'm having cramps, but The Hermit misinterpreted this to mean menstrual pain - which I think a lot of guys might do upon hearing the word 'cramp' in the general abdominal vicinity - which this is not. Too far north.

* I'm pretty sure I could belch my way through the alphabet, and my stomach is making really loud and random noises, like a mini acid volcano.

* A very low level of near constant nausea, but no spewing (thank FSM), punctuated by 2-3 bouts a day of, well, quality time on the toilet.

* Food, or lack of, seems to have no effect so I'm just eating light - toast, rice that sort of thing. Helps a bit with the nausea, and keeps my energy up at any rate.

So yeah, I'm not happy. And I can't figure out what it is - that's the worst thing. I'm pretty sure I know what it's not - stomach "flu" or "bugs", food poisoning or gastro. Three days is far too long for most of those, plus I've had all of those at one time or another and know what they feel like. I thought at first it was my gallbladder as I've known for some time now I have gallstones, but as a whole it doesn't add up... I think. Or not. A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing, so I'm off tomorrow to try and find a solution from someone who gets paid to figure it out. Until then I'll keep downing pain killers and try to function. If anyone out in the blogosphere can tell me what it might be, feel free to let me know!

Sweet Victory

I took a quiz on Facebook about Spongebob Squarepants and did exceptionally well. Here is one of the many reasons I loves me the Spongebob:

Anyone else just have an 80s power ballad flashback?

Very Late Saturday Skinfest

Sorry gang. I felt like absolute garbage yesterday - I had horrible stomach cramps and pain. I suspect my gallbladder is misbehaving. So I spent a lot of time last night curled up on the couch. The Hermit even felt bad for me, and offered to take me to the hospital. I declined. I'm better this morning - my gut is no longer being twisted violently and now just feels like someone has repeatedly kicked me. Just remember, codeine is your friend! Or my friend.

Now back to our regularly scheduled Skinfest:

Can someone tell the Broncos they're supposed to be playing football, not practising yoga? Then they might start winning.

Can someone tell Billy Slater to get the sock out of his Speedos?

Can someone tell Chris Lawrence to go play for a real football team and not the Wests Tigers? (Just kidding, Miss WTF... even though they lost AGAIN)

Can someone tell Alessandra Ambrosio that I hate her guts for looking so damned thin? Eat something!

More skin, less pain, next week.

Photo Friday

I got a new phone and, as such, was pulling old photos off my old phone. Some are typical mom type of photos, but there are a few really good ones. Here's one:

Her Majesty, circa December 2007.

MST3K Distraction

It's mean of me to come back and then disappear again. I've just been busy getting caught up on all the things I didn't do while I was finishing prac. Like wash the floor, do the shopping, have clean underwear... little things like that. Plus I finally read all my backlog of blog posts! Woot woot!!

And then Saturday I took some time for myself to watch a bit of Mystery Science Theater 3000. Or to its legions of fans, MST3K. For those unfamiliar with the show and/or too lazy to follow the link, a brief synopsis courtesy of Wikipedia:

The series features a man and his robot sidekicks who are trapped on a satellite in space by an evil scientist and forced to watch a selection of terrible movies, especially (but not initially limited to) science fiction B-movies. To keep sane, the man and his robots make a running commentary on the film, making fun of its flaws and wisecracking (or "riffing") their way through the film in the style of a movie theater peanut gallery. The movie was presented with a superimposition of the man and robots silhouettes along the bottom of the screen.

The Hermit and I used to watch it every weekend back in the States when it was on the Sci-Fi channel, and he recently obtained a copy of the legendary episode Space Mutiny. Here's a taste:

I guess it's one of those things you either get or not. Since this is pretty much how my father treated the horrible movies that came on Channels 38 or 56 when I was a kid - he'd term them "Bad Movie Number {insert random made-up number here}" - I totally got this show and love anyone else who does. You will instantly become my BFF and I would consider marrying you. Worked for The Hermit.

So now excuse me whilst I waste a little more time on YouTube watching some MST3K shorts.

Clive's "Condition"

Ok, so let me start this by making one thing perfectly clear: Clive is just fine. He's the same full-on, non-stop toddler he's been. He just has a "condition".

But let me back up a week or three...

The first weekend of my prac saw Clive with a bit of a cold. This is not unusual given he's goes to child care (full time when I was in prac) as well as having two siblings at home who attend school. He gets every sniffle Sparky and Her Majesty bring home, as well as contributing to the family sickness pool himself. But by the time I got home from work that Saturday night, it was pretty obvious he was not well. By "not well" I mean really not well. Trip to the hospital not well.

Clive and I spent the next 17 hours in hospital Emergency Wards - a couple of hours in the local private hospital getting him improved enough to get an ambulance (minus the sirens) to the Royal Children's Hospital. He was still not 100% when we were discharged Sunday afternoon, but he was so exhausted, and so not sleeping, that he was not doing himself any favours and I promised I would bring him back if he worsened at home. Thankfully I haven't had to do that.

So I was hopeful this incident was a one-off. A very severe complication from the virus he obviously had. However a follow-up visit to our GP a week and a half later put paid to that notion. Various test results had come back that meant it was pretty likely Clive had been having problems for a while, and we had all totally missed it. I felt pretty awful about that - hello, nurse here! - but the GP reassured me that given Clive's age he's a pretty poor historian and he'd obviously been coping prior to that weekend. Since that appointment he's had several other episodes that have pretty well convinced The Hermit and I that Clive does indeed have a "condition".

Why don't I just get on with it and tell you what it is then? Because The Hermit has asked me not to. He has asked me not to violate Clive's privacy and put it out there for everyone and their cousin to see on the interwebs, and since he's never asked me to leave anything out on this blog - even stuff that makes him look like a wanker - I agreed. If you're a long time reader and desperately want to know, I'll tell you. Just email me at aussiemooselet AT gmail DOT com (just substitute the appropriate symbols) or Facebook me and I'll give you the scoop. We're not embarrassed or ashamed or think that our son is less than perfect - that's ridiculous and as far as I'm concerned he's still perfect. He just has a chronic condition that we'll have to learn to manage - and he may even outgrow it.

As I said at the start, he's fine. It hasn't slowed him down one jot, and he's a champ at taking his medication when necessary. But it was a hell of a way to start my final prac.

Much More Manageable

I've just spent the last couple of hours culling my Google Feed Reader down to a much more manageable 266 posts, from a high of 1000+ - Google apparently can't count past 1000 and I didn't feel like doing the math.

I subscribe to all sorts of blogs - from personal blogs (my favourite type) to science blogs, gossip sites and review blogs, and a few recipe blogs as well. Those last ones are new as I attempt to be a bit more creative in the kitchen. I deleted all the posts from the science blogs, photo blogs, review blogs and gossip blogs (except Mamarazzi. I *heart* them) and that took me down to under 400. Those science guys can post a lot, let me tell you. The next hour was spent reading blogs whose posts numbered in the single digits since I've been away.

And here I sit at 266 unread posts. I don't think I will comment on anyone's posting unless it's very recent or very relevant... or you promise me squillions of dollars... or a chocolate bar. Commenting would just chew up too much time and I still have lots to do. I hope to have the first drama post up tonight, featuring Clive and his newly diagnosed "condition". With 4 kids the odds were pretty good one of them would have something that could be called a "condition", outside of annoying the shit out of me now and again.

So stay tuned folks, the fun is just beginning...

Miss Me???

Yeah, I didn't think so.

As some of you know if you follow me on Facebook, or are a close relative and have actually spoken to myself or the Hermit, you'll know I'm done!! My nursing clinical prac ended Friday, and I actually had the paperwork stating I'd passed in my hot little hands on Wednesday.

Woot woot!!!

So now I'm just waiting for paperwork. The university submits our names to the Queensland Nursing Council sometime mid-month, once exams are done and they know who's passed and who hasn't. For the record I don't have any exams - I did all my theory classes some time ago and unlike the US there is no licensing exam like the NCLEX-RN that I took back in '99. Once my name is submitted it gets matched up with my paperwork requesting licensure and viola... I'm licensed to practice nursing in Queensland.

Woot woot!!!

And not that this is a minor point, especially to Momma Mooselet, but all this also mean I will hold a Bachelor's Degree. That often got overlooked, not least of all by myself, as I was simply focused on getting back to my nursing career.

I spent the long weekend (Queen's Birthday public holiday today in Queensland) getting caught up on housework and attending Saprky's and Her Majesty's football games before getting a chance to sit down and finally post a blog entry. I now face the daunting task of over 1000 feeds in my feed reader as well as a mountain of filing I need to get caught up on.

I will update everyone on the various dramas we faced during the past 4 weeks - of course life could not remain calm and steady while I finished, it had to get all chaotic. From business trips to illnesses to teenaged drama, we had it all but we all pulled through in one piece... more or less.

Thanks for sticking with me everyone. I hope to get caught up with everyone and your wonderful blogs soon.