The coughing cushion

I'm very happy (and more than a little relieved) to report that mum came through the surgery well, and is recovering. Cole, Imogen and I went over to see her yesterday (she was operated on in Tauranga) and whilst she was a bit ashen and looked very uncomfortable, she came through like a trooper and the kids were much relieved to see Grandma smile. In an attempt to make her smile more, they offered her plenty of bounces on the trampoline...man, if you ever want to make someone who's just been gutted bellybutton to sternum wince, then i heartily recommend suggesting they go trampolining! Poor wee thing. 

I unpacked the sewing machine yesterday morning to whip up a little get-well-soon love. I made her a coughing cushion, because, well, my inner nana is a strong force indeed. The idea is that she can hold the cushion against her stomach whenever she needs to cough, sneeze, laugh and so on. I know I only have caesareans as experience, and nothing anywhere near the level of trauma and stitching that mum is dealing with, but I remember feeling like I was ripping myself apart whenever I laughed or coughed in the beginning, and hope this will help mum a little. So that, a quick little photo album of grandbabies, some Snifters (you would not believe the money I paid for these near-extinct lollies that just happen to be mum's most favourite treat. Bidding wars, people, bidding wars!) and a pic of her 5 progeny, and we were all set. Cole and Imogen selflessly volunteered their unwrapping skills for grandma...they're givers like that.

What my mum made: Mikyla, Aleicha, moi, Aaron, Gareth. We weren't able to get one with mum as well as Gareth flew in as a surprise and by the time he got there mum was asleep thanks to the kickass drugs they'd been giving her for pain.

...and now I really need to go and try to make some sense of the sewing room...so far we have a machine on the desk, the whirlwind after effects of yesterdays hurried makings, and eleventy billion full boxes. Piece of pie.