When you wake up - please do so properly.

Well, I admit I have been keenly wondering day, after day what I could possibly write about on my family blog that would cater some interest to my generous followers. Then, the last thought to cross my mind last night before walking to my dreams was something like "Right, whatever it is I really am going to write something on this task of blogging I have started." I'm not a finisher you see.

Nonetheless. I apologise for this post being about an event that occured soley to myself - which conveniently occured at first light the follwing morning. Perhaps the ironic response to my hope of something to write about blog-worthy. I thought to take the opportunity to explain this mishap which I foolishly thought I could keep within the confines of my home - but having amazing family and friends who care (or simply sniff for a faikala), such is not the case, thus my endeavour is to give a non-live commentary.

Note: This blog is family-rated so photos of my gash will absolutely not be posted. In fact none were taken.

Irra The Lamanite

title courtesy of Quonelia, as you will see in photos.

'Twas the morning of Conference

When all through the house

Not a creature was stirring

Not even a mouse (perhaps because recently we killed three)

Mother woke up to a cough

Straightway swung over her leg

And lifted herself up

To get out of bed

Whilst somewhat asleep

Stumbled past her door
Before she had known it

She lay sprawled on the floor

To her consciousness felt

A blow to her head

Happened sometime soon after

She proceeded out of bed

Her intention was the sink

Of the bathroom ahead

Thus, she hauled herself up

And onward she tread

When feeling a  slight throb

With her fingers she felt

To the rear of her head

Some blood indeed spelt

All was on deck

Daddy, Grandma and Pou

Except Bruce who was wailing

Conveniently, so

Upon remembrance, dear mother

Thought how this came to be

Loss of bearings and half asleep 

Not a worthy combination you see

A cut was so carved

And quite generously so

She felt indeed nautious

Thus, to the hospital she must go!

With her husband in hand

He drove swiftly with caution

While in the passenger seat she felt

Her head spin out of proportion

Arriving at emergency

The doctor quick at hand

Then confides to his nurse

"There is only one plan"

"To the operating room!" 

Mother lay down and still

"Three stitches shall you require"

She's certainly not thrilled

When all is complete and

Head bandaged for pressure

Hair unbrushed and bloodied

She felt glamourous as ever

Her quiet superman Cam 

By her side all throughout

Would sucessfully make her smile

What was previously a pout

And thus they headed home

To their sanctuary and abode

Three babes anxiously await

With grandma in tow

Mother bandaged and stitched

Pouey said for the time thrice

"Mummy all better?"

"My go get some ice!"

Her heart filled with joy

To come home to her loves

After her morning ordeal

Gratitude was owed to Above

Now, Mother's father concerned

When ailment arose

Tradition shows his love by food

Her favourite, he exactly knows

Chop suey, Taro, Pisupo

and Masi times three

Lu'au absolute favourite

Indeed lucky was she

Suddenly she came to thought;
Her vanity surely in place
That this three-stitch-wide gash
Was not on her face!

So children listen close;

What moral have we this

Learn from such an experience

Not a word must you miss

Take care when you awake

Lest your fall means stitches three

So when you wake up;

Please - do so properly.

    One hour later

     & 

   Twelve hours later 

   Courtesy: AP Nelia

     

First blog. Check.

Do you remember sitting in Primary during Music Time, front row on the pint sized seats allocated for the munchkins, straining your eyes to see what you couldn't read on the words of the primary song on that white, just bigger than A3 sized piece of cardboard? I most probably blamed it on the handwriting. Though now as a 'grown up' the whiff of history surpasses in a split second when I think of that moment and I always remember the last line of perhaps a well known tune;

Two little eyes that blink, blink, blink,
Two little eyes that see;
Head and shoulders; knees and toes;
And many more things make me.
Tra la la la la la,
Two little eyes that see,
Two little eyes that blink, blink, blink,
And many more things make me


“Two Little Eyes,” Children’s Songbook of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 268 

So having three beautiful munchkins myself now, one of which is that of a three year old munchkin on the pint sized seat in Music Sharing Time (as I snuck a peek on Sunday) - I must have my own take on the infamous line now indented in my mind, and name it title of my blog. Which does so fittingly, if I do say so myself. As I am no longer a 'me', the word family itself encapsulates in the plural sense - in my case five beings inclusive of three beautiful children, my palagi, and myself.

Thus, welcome to the weird and wonderful world of the Walshes through tiny snippets of this world of blogging. There's just not enough paper for written words, enough video memory - even enough time - to recall every amazing moment made each second of every day in the history that makes this Walshe family. I have no particular aniticipation of what will be posted - all I know is there are many more things that make 'We' so perhaps you might come on a little journey with us for a few seconds or minutes on our blog - to see exactly what that could be.

To all our family and friends we may have lost contact with - we would love to hear from you.