Laughing through gritted teeth.

Sometimes people come up to me and say things like: I’ve read your blog, it made laugh. I appreciate those comments, I really do, but when the stuff hits the fan and I stop laughing I find myself wanting to stop writing too, so I don’t disappoint you laugh-seekers. I hope you can grin and bear this next post with me.

My grandma used to have a book that was called something like: Put All Your Troubles in a Great Big Box and Sit on the Lid and Laugh. I don’t know if that’s the exact title but that’s how I remember it in my head. It was twenty years ago. I feel like the box I’m sitting on right now is pretty big, and  the laughs I’m letting out, aren’t sweet, cute little giggles, they’re more like when you’re a kid, and an adult pretends to laugh at your joke; You know that awkward, laboured ha-ha? The one that makes you want to donk yourself in the forehead if your joke recipient lets out? That’s what I’m talking about.

Last time I wrote, was the night our car broke down in the city and I was saying something like ‘stuff like this doesn’t happen to normal people’. I think I must’ve jinxed myself, because either I have unbearably terrible luck, or Adelaide hates me.

Since that day I had an absolutely marvellous holiday in Queensland. It was so perfect. The sun was shining, I had unlimited babysitters, got my hair done. saw my family, cuddled my niece and nephew and went out for coffee with my mum nearly every day. That ended last Monday.

The same day that I arrived home to Adelaide, fell down four stairs, dislocated my shoulder, took the skin off my elbow, relocated my shoulder and went to bed.  ha.. ha.. ha..

Then Tuesday, I woke up to a sick baby, an arm swollen up like an armadillo and rain. Bless the rain, but it never makes me feel sprightly in the morning. I called the Dr. I got in at 10am. He checked my arm, told me not to relocate limbs again (unless I first knew if they were broken or not) and sent me for X-rays on my left elbow and right shoulder. OH and he told me to wear a sling for 3 weeks. Easy with a five week old and a twenty month old hey? The ladies at the surgery offered to make my X-ray appointment for me and told me to head there straight away.

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I can do that. Oh except I snapped off my key in the ignition when I went to start the car on my way to the appointment. Did I mention I lost my voice at this point. (a muted) ha… ha… ha…

I know it sounds like I’m making this stuff up, I promise I’m not. ha..

I shouldn’t complain. I’ve got a roof over my head and food in my stomach, (thanks to my mother-in-law staying with us – we would not be eating or wearing clean clothes otherwise), I’ve got a family who love me, (even if half of them live on the other side of the country), and one working arm. I’ve got kids who are alive, (even though they’re sick), and I’ve got a car that runs, (even though the key is split in half). And at the end of the day, I know how to laugh.

 

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