yesterday I went to the podiatrist and he told me I need to keep my foot elevated, with a heat pack and rest. I did not respond verbally, preferring to raise one eyebrow at him and wonder if he had noticed the 11 month old wriggling around in the pram beside me. when MrB Badger.com got home he asked for the report and then declared “since you’ve had her you’re cracking up”. he’s from the north of England what can I say. he does have a point though and while I rarely feel my age – probably due to refusal to grow up – this morning as my heavily taped foot hit the floor I felt every one of my 41+ years. the doc thinks it tendonitis bought on by my ridiculous obsession with wanting to be a runner…I had only just started to do a bit of interval training to build up my cardio fitness again and my feet tell me otherwise. these feet that have been through some pretty dodgy fashion choices and have the bunions to show for it have finally decided to send me a message – stop running. the message is so clear that even walking is a challenge right now but that could be the tape. my dear husbands point about me cracking up is exactly how I feel. I am clumsy beyond belief and my hands are still not fully recovered from the tenosynovitis I had many months ago…current injuries include one finger caught in the pram harness and a stab wound to my palm as I tried to catch a knife that fell from the knife magnet. actually now that I think about it maybe the clumsy has been with me forever…when I was a kid if I ever forgot my house key I would take the window screen off the kitchen window and let myself in. I remember one day I could only find a very small screw driver to do the job and it kept slipping out of the screw and I got so frustrated I threw the screw driver…when I looked to retrieve it imagine my surprise as I saw it sticking out of the soft flesh in the arch of my foot – I have the scar as a reminder of my stupidity.
in all my reading about pregnancy and babies and stuff I missed the bit about how much having a child can impact your body and how age plays a part in your recovery. it’s all about the changes the baby goes through during the pregnancy and then how to manage with the baby when you get home. what about the mum who ends up with tendons and ligaments as loose as nanna undies and teeth that threaten to bankrupt the family if you can find time to visit the dentist. the same changes occur regardless of the age of the mother it’s the body’s ability to recover that changes with age and right about now I am wishing that prior to falling pregnant I was in peak physical condition so I could snap back into shape and not have any of these injury woes ahhh hindsight what a wonderful way to make you feel like a failure. anyhoo once I have recovered I will go back to doing what I know and that is lifting heavy things in the gym and riding a bike for cardio, no more running for me….excellent news.
so today I took little boss to her play group and as part of the group discussion we were asked what we do for ourselves – just us, not our children or our partners, family, employers, animals or anyone else. so I spoke about barrybadger.com and how it started out as the ramblings of a woman who didn’t know what all the fuss was about and now that same woman can barely find time to write a post a week. some of the other ladies talked about having a shower, being able to wash AND blow dry their hair and getting to the gym. it took me back to when I was pregnant and having friends with kids telling me that in the early days I will struggle to get out of my pj’s and then as time goes by the luxury of going to the toilet on my own would be replaced by an inquisitive toddler spinning the last sheets of toilet paper onto the floor…of course even if every single person who crossed your path told you these stories, you would still think “it will be different for me”….but it’s not – unless you have a nanny – which I don’t, so even though my employers paid me to find improvements in business and to help people work smarter not harder, I still struggled to find a way to get in the shower and out of my peter alexanders before Mr B Badger.com got home from work. I made friends with the pram and the bouncer and sometimes even wheeled the travel cot around the house so that I could get things done…I thought this was difficult at the time. then she started crawling…and with that new-found independence came a wilful dislike for any constraint….the playpen, the cot and the jumper thingy became a source of frustration. now she is starting to walk and whoa nelly are we seeing a whole new side to her personality. lets just say that she is doing a great job of expressing herself when something isn’t going according to her plan. the independence that she is showing is hilarious. she helps me dress her, grabs the whole box of wipes and puts it in-between her legs – not so helpful – when I am changing her, feeds herself, drinks from a cup and “brushes” her teeth – she holds the brush in her mouth and chews on the bristles, hey it’s a start…right?
I think part of the problem with trying to find time to do something “just for me” is that we have such high expectations of how things should be…clean house, laundry done, shopping done, food prepared and on and on it goes…so I have a list. last week I made a list of daily tasks that I need to do every day and here it is for your amusement…
- eat breakfast
- drink 2 litres of water
- snack healthy
- take your vitamins
- finish one task before starting another
- go for a walk
- don’t go to bed on a dirty kitchen
- put little boss’ toys away when she goes to bed
- sweep floors with the orange fluffy
- do one load of washing
- plan dinner
anything outside of “the list” is a bonus…getting through “the list” can sometimes come unstuck on item one, unless you consider eating breakfast to be consuming the cold remains of little boss’ French toast. so now we have less tumbleweeds of MrRoobens hair blowing around and the laundry hampers are not at one with the floor….in the words of Charlie Sheen… “winning”…
so I recently watched what to expect when you’re expecting which is based on the book by Heidi Murkoff…this is one of those films that Mr B Badger.com would suffer through and then declare it as “a load of twaddle” afterwards, so I watched it on my own. and essentially I would have to agree with him. now it may just be that I am married to a man who hails from the north of england and romance doesn’t feature highly but do people actually say stuff to each other like they do on the movies?? please, if you or your significant other speak to each other in such a way let me know…and also please advise me if you do this because it comes naturally or because you think everyone does it cause that’s what they do on the movies – so it must be the norm. yes the whole conception to birth journey is amazing when you think about it but it’s also stressful, terrifying, emotional and the list goes on. they show some of this in the movie which was moderately amusing but they also show husbands and partners that look lovingly into the eyes of their woman and declare their undying love, admiration and respect. this is the bit I am wondering about. maybe I was too high on pain killers or a little confronted by the TEDS stockings and machine attached to my legs to keep the blood flowing but I don’t recall Mr B Badger.com looking anything but stunned and shattered in a “what the hell just happened” kind of way…and honestly if he had cracked out any of the common hollywood style phrases I would have assumed that he had also been drugged to his eyeballs. I know if a movie were based on my relationship it certainly wouldn’t leave people with the tear in the eye kind of warm and fuzzy feeling you get from watching movie relationships because it’s essentially hard to capture on camera the subtlety behind many of our moments. we don’t hold hands, hug or do any public displays of affection – we don’t really do private displays of affection either when I think about it, it’s just not our thing. it is, however, the reason that people flock to the cinema to watch “chick flicks”. you don’t see hollywood writing wedding night scenes where you share an adjoining room with your newly acquired mother and sister-in-law or on your honeymoon on the island of mykonos you are booked into a room that has two single beds…unless its going to be a comedy as it’s not really passion inducing. now that I have been up since 1.30am and it’s now almost 3am I am beginning to think that we are the exception to all this loving behaviour that is perpetuated by film producers…while they were prepping me for my spinal block, the overly talkative nurse – obviously a technique to distract you from the environment and what it about to happen – said to Mr B Badger.com “you can sit over here and hold her hand”, which on the silver screen would have been portrayed by him looking at me with reassurance in his eyes and a “you’re doing great honey” out of his mouth. how it actually played out was more like this…
nurse: “you can sit over here and hold her hand”
husband: wheels stool to sit next to wife and awkwardly takes her hand in his while looking like a stunned mullet
wife: sitting on bed, breathing deeply to keep a panic attack at bay, stares straight ahead and says “don’t touch me”
now I know what it was like to go through it and I have to say it was probably more confronting for Mr B Badger.com than for myself, but now that I remember that little exchange I do think our relationship is more on the side of a comedy – sometimes even dark comedy – than romance or even rom com and I prefer it that way as it’s far more fun for us to laugh about our antics….okay little boss has finally gone back to sleep so im off to catch another hour or so of shut-eye. I welcome your thoughts on the fantasy versus reality of the movie world especially if that movie myth is your real life day to day…ni ni neville.
in all the information you can get about babies and their development and what’s “normal” and what’s not they say babies have different cries to let you know what they want or need. mine must be broken because she only has one cry and it goes from 0-100 in about 8.5 seconds, whatever she needs is urgent. I can’t help but feel for all the new first time mums who, like me, are trying to find that little difference in the crying to see if she wants feeding, changing, burping, sleeping or just holding. early on it was evident and Mr B Badger.com and I would know instantly what she needed, not so much now that she has hit three months. yesterday my besty and I went out for lunch. she had her two girls with her and when K Doggy started to cry one of the girls said “why is she crying?” I said I didn’t know, so she says “well how do you know what she is crying for?” and my besty summed it up for her and everyone else…”well you don’t know, cause little babies can’t speak so they cant tell you whats wrong so you just have to guess and keep guessing until they stop crying” pretty much nailed it. you’re not going to get that kind of advice in a baby book that’s for sure. and I think I only actually feed her 2/3 of the formula in the tin and the rest gets made up and then turns out to be a wrong guess and down the sink it goes. yes the “f” word – formula – but you know what? her colic has stopped since becoming a formula only baby. she is soooo much happier and not in any pain trying to bring up wind. yes breast is best but maybe not a one size fits all solution. seriously it’s hard enough adjusting to life with a baby without the added pressure of sticking to breastfeeding when it’s not working. oh and to all the midwives, health nurses, doctors, chemists and do gooders out there….making a new mum feel bad about how she is feeding her baby is not helping her and making out that baby formula is doing damage to the baby is really not cool peeps so off the breast-feeding high horse please for the mental wellbeing of new mums if nothing else.
three months…my god where has it gone? having said that it does seem like a lifetime ago that I was wheeled into the theatre at 10am as just Mrs and Mr B Badger.com only to be wheeled out 30 minutes later with mini B Badger.com in tow. I still feel mild anxiety in the evenings but I laugh now at the emotional rollercoaster I was riding in the first few weeks after bring K Doggy home…not sure Mr B Badger.com experiences the same level of humour in looking back though…he thought I was going a bit bonkers there for a while. thanks to acupuncture and some good herbs I was quickly returned to my normal, only slightly bonkers, self.
well the weather is already starting to warm up, my old hormones are returning and they have bought the headaches along for the ride and both Mr B Badger.com and I are trying to lose our baby weight…I am already at my pre conception weight but, seriously, lets just say I started on a high point. so we are making an effort to get rid of some excess and look after ourselves so that when K Doggy starts running around we will be able to keep up…not quite ready for the marathon club yet but I’m workin on it…
firstly if my boss is reading this post the answer is no Johnny G my baby brain will be well and truly sorted by may 2013…but until then I will continue to have a laugh, or lol if that’s what the cool kids are saying these days, at myself and the incredibly stupid things I seem to be saying and doing of late. for your reading pleasure here are a couple of choice efforts from the once firing on all synapses brain, now a bit hit and miss – more miss I fear – of me, Mrs B Badger.com…
last thursday Mr B Badger.com and I were enjoying a wine – no judgement please I had expressed for K Doggy – and having some after work chit-chat while exercising Mr Rooben. it was a lovely afternoon and while we both knew we should be out taking a walk a wine seemed like a nicer idea. anyhoo for whatever reason I was looking at my calendar in my phone and I say, and I was serious, “oh my god, tomorrows the anniversary of 7/11″
it was out before I could stop it and then I spent the next 15 minutes laughing so hard a bit of wee came out. how bloody bonkers…one of the most significant events of our time and I get it mixed up with a twenty-four hour store. I would defend myself by saying that our dates are not written month followed by day but even that would be ridiculous because it was the 7th of the 9th…not quite sure what was occurring within my grey matter but by the sounds of it, not much.
so yesterday our medicare cards arrived. yes K Doggy is three months old on friday but these things take time apparently. so I get the letter and before opening it I feel the contents and I say to Mr B Badger.com…”I hope there’s three cards in here” to which he just gives me a blank look…so I open the envelope and inside are two cards to which I say “I can’t believe they only sent us two cards” how completely stupid have I become – that’s me reflecting people, I am not asking for your feedback. I continued to only get a blank look from Mr B Badger.com because I am sure he thinks I have lost the plot and I am inclined to agree.
another example of how my brain may have suffered the effects of producing another human is that I am addicted to Big Brother. sorry to say it because it is such trash tv but I can’t get enough of watching these people interact and they are getting less chummy and more bitchy as the days go on…so far my fave housemate is bradley who just cracks out whatever he wants to say usually at the most inappropriate time but hey the dude has battled with a debilitating stutter most of his 19 years so cut him some slack and let him say what he wants. the one thing I wish they would do, though, is get Sonia Kruger’s hair up and to reassess how they are dressing her…last night she looked like she was wearing nannas old curtains from the 60’s with a rear view mirror around the neck. it was just wrong on so many levels but ben the token gay person – yay for diversity – told her he loved it so what do I know? so next week my cousin and her daughter are coming to stay with us…I hope they like BB because it will be on our screens every night without fail – or I will record it. my aunt recently summed it up like only she can “how can a person with a brain like yours watch a show like that?” my answer? easily.
so I am beginning to understand why old birds like me should have got on the baby band wagon years ago…isn’t hindsight such a wonderful way to help you see the failures in life. almost every person I speak to about our little family and how we will only be having one child due to my years getting closer to menopause and therefore not bearing the freshest of eggs tells me that “oh being over 40 is no barrier to having more kids these days…” are they on crack? it is a major barrier because whether we want to admit it or not over 40 is old to be child-bearing. sure I would like to have a little brother or sister for Kenzi but she may just have to have “cousins” because the way my body feels right now I fear another baby might render me motionless and surviving on a cocktail of painkillers…I have thumbs that lock into place at the most inconvenient time – and I don’t mean when giving the thumbs up – one shoulder-blade that feels as though it is keeping a bag of marbles hostage and a tooth that, minus a filling, makes drinking and eating anything without a straw utter agony. I swallowed the filling yesterday so off I go on friday to get a replacement – woo hoo more money out the door. is it bad of me to say that I miss the banter with my work colleagues? does that make me less of a mum? no I am not asking for your opinion just in case anyone was considering a bit of cyber bullying. these are questions I ask myself. don’t get me wrong when I look at my little jellybean and she looks back at me with a bright smile and a little squeal it brings me more joy than hanging out with work buddies ever could – sorry guys – I just miss the interaction and social contact. especially since the days spent at home seem to fly by in a jiffy and I don’t know where the time goes. best of both worlds would be a workplace with a nanny on staff so you could return to work with your infant – now THAT would be freaking awesome…
post disclaimer – no I am not depressed, yes I am ok, please read this blog as I have written it – tongue in cheek, thank you.
scotty has returned to work this morning so that leaves me at home with kenzi and Mr Rooben, neither of which say much so barrybadger will probably cop a hammering of posts over the next few days as I attempt to communicate. the past two weeks have been interesting and I have learnt quite a bit about myself and the behaviours I need to try to manage on a daily basis if I am to succeed in my motherhood quest. I have already documented my high anxiety in barrybadger posts gone by and scott and I had already flagged that I would need to be mindful of this when we came home with our ultimate prize otherwise I would probably never sleep again. throughout my pregnancy I managed to avoid the google and all the other advice we can access at the touch of a button as I didn’t want to over think every kick, hiccup and movement or lack thereof. then our bundle arrived and all of a sudden I am reading everything put in front of me and listening to every bit of contradictory advice thrown my way. the midwives in the hospital say wake her up for a feed every two to three hours or she wont get enough, the community nurse says as long as she is doing enough business in her nappies there is no need to wake her she will wake of her own accord and the google supports both arguments and provides vivid descriptions of what can happen if she gets dehydrated….and thats just feeding. I cant help but think that utilising the services of old Dr Spock’s handbook 40 odd years ago may have been a better way to go rather than the over-supply of information we have today. the community nurse left me with enough toilet reading material to last well into my 41st year and the two showbags you get from the hospital have an abundance of suggested necessities that you simply cannot do without. I am struggling to understand why they even bother making clothing other than singlets and onesies in sizes suitable for newborns because they do business that often you just don’t need to add removal of cool looking outfit to your playbook. no sooner have you removed the outfit, changed the stink bum, and put the outfit back on you see what you now recognise as “the poo face” that is quickly followed by the pants rumble and you start it all again. onesie all the way I say…anyhoo the one thing they really don’t prepare you for in any of the conversations with midwives or in the barrage of supplied literature is the potential for you to feel so sad and alone. yes your hormones are going bananas and yes this is the biggest and most important job you will ever do and the enormity of it all can get to you and really when it does it is terrifying and I have had times during the past two weeks when I have wanted to just curl into a ball and be left alone to just cry…so I went for acupuncture on friday and will continue to get treatment until my hormones regain some sort of balance and the fog of depression starts to lift. fortunately for me I have some very amazing people in my life who support me without smothering me, cause that wouldn’t work! we are also very lucky to have a new baby that only wakes once during the night at the moment so both of us are getting a decent amount of sleep….not sure if this trend will continue but I have all fingers crossed that it does.
it has been a relatively heavy post this morning so I will end it on a smile…whoever said only boys are a challenge to change had never met a girl like ours….so far I have been shot by the urine arc of kenzi three times, she is mastering the art of waiting until the nappy comes off, pulling her legs back and shooting me with her wee. lucky for me I am getting used to being wet from most of her bodily fluids and some of my own – loving the leaky boob – so if you see me out and I smell a little like wee, poo or stale milk be sure and let me know – i promise to only be mildly embarrassed and not at all offended!
so it seems like a lifetime ago that I was having a shower in the special antiseptic “body wash” prior to being admitted to hospital for the birth of our daughter…certainly not the way I had hoped this day would play out but in a few short hours we would be introduced to the person who would change life, as we know it, forever. I have to say the staff at the hospital have the process nailed and it’s hard not to feel like you are on a conveyor belt just waiting for the next part of the process to begin…check in, provide a wee sample, change into your gown, meet the anesthetist, have any remaining pubes removed, have a visit by the nurses and so on and so forth. when it becomes very interesting is when we finally get to the “theatre” and it kind of feels like someone has said “number 3 your caesarean section is ready”. to say it was bizarre would be an understatement. the epidural is a procedure I would be in no hurry to repeat ever, the claustrophobia I experienced when they tried to put an oxygen mask on me was intense. willy wonka had asked me if I had any preference for the music played during the procedure and I said I didn’t mind but really it would have been nice to hear david bowie singing is there life on mars as he held our baby girl aloft…surreal. I think it probably felt to scott and I like we had been slapped with wet fish when the gum boot wearing sidekick popped our perfect baby girl on my partially numb chest – we both look a bit like stunned mullets in the pictures now I look back on them. once they have wrapped her up and counted all the instruments to ensure nothing has “gone missing” baby girl and I are wheeled back to our room where I am sure scott can’t wait to change out of his hospital scrubs that kind of made him look a bit like he was in some bad medical porn movie. I cant feel my legs and I have compression tights on and the nurses have also put some wrap thing around my calves which is connected to a pump that will ensure the blood continues to flow through my legs – cheers for that – cause you could remove my legs right about now and I would be none the wiser. as the effects of the epidural wear off the pain begins and whoa nelly that is some serious pain, but I am in hospital and they have some serious pain killers so to be perfectly honest the rest of friday and parts of saturday are moderately blurry and I can remember snippets of midwives coming in to help me breastfeed and to pump me full of drugs. by saturday night I was in a different room and off the medication, thankfully. mind you the nursing staff were still trying to give me painkillers every time they popped in to check my vitals. at one stage a midwife said to me “you don’t have to put up with the pain you know” to which I replied no, but you do usually have to be in pain in the first place…I found it quite amusing that I could have had incredibly strong painkillers on a fairly regular basis but I could only have two panadol once every six hours…in all honesty the most pain I had after the initial shock from the epidural wearing off came from not being able to do a poo. so i ordered prunes for breakfast and they worked like a charm – this is definitely a sharing kind of blog. it was a very strange feeling being in the hospital and I didn’t realise how comforting it was at the time to know that the nurses, midwives and nursery were available at any time. when willy wonka said I could go home on the tuesday instead of the wednesday I was overjoyed but as we loaded our new precious cargo into the car I was overwhelmed with the enormity of the responsibility we now had – not unusual for me, to be overwhelmed that is. it’s time for some acupuncture…
so last time I posted here I was preparing for the following day to give birth to our daughter via caesarean section. I will post on the events of the big day and the days since in coming posts but for now I just wanted to say we are home. willy wonka and his trusty gumboot wearing sidekick – the pediatrician – declared us both fit and well to come home on tuesday which was a huge relief for me since I had begun skulking the corridors of the maternity ward looking for random people to talk to in the middle of the night. so tuesday morning we packed up the car and headed home, and we only had one or two minor carguments – that’s arguments had in the car for the uninitiated – that ended in me crying hormonal tears and my loving husband thinking he should probably just not say anything, at all, for a short period of time. he being the laid back one in this relationship was super cool about the journey home while I was a bundle of nervous energy and worried at everything….was she ok, had she stopped breathing, could he see her – it was best that he keep his eyes on the road I know but rational thought wasn’t uppermost in my mind – maybe I should sit in the back seat to make sure she is okay – scotty said don’t be ridiculous, are you going to sit in the back seat every time we go out? mmmm maybe….so my parentals had received my call earlier in the day asking them to pop down to our place and wear out Mr Rooben prior to our arrival so he wouldn’t be that bothered when we rocked up with our new family member. not bothered would be an understatement – it was three hours later when he finally realised there was a baby in the cot and he has not stopped sniffing her since. what he is good at is poo monitor. he smells it just as she deals it so not much chance of her sitting in it for too long with him around. fast forward to this afternoon when we arrived home from our first outing to the pub for lunch with my parentals – me half bent over from the surgery, my father with his arm in a cast from his surgery yesterday, what an awesome team we were. anyhoo so we get home and scotty takes lil Kenzi to change her bum since we have been out for a while and I am setting up the new toys in the kitchen when I hear the cry from the laundry – no not Kenzi, scotty – come quick he is yelling and I immediately think something dire is occurring only to rush in and find him holding our semi naked newborn aloft while wee and poo drip from her legs, onto the change mat and then onto the floor….he hadn’t put a towel down onto the mat before he started the change and once he picked her up there was nowhere to go but shout out for help. needless to say its been a learning curve for us both but I will give him his dues, he is having a go at the dad duties and while it might not all go to plan he is still pushing on – and letting me sleep, which is gold as far as I am concerned and in six months when he is asking for a new bike or some other new toy I will be hard pushed to say no…maybe he has already started angling…this morning he did mention the new iPhone that has come out mmmmm maybe….will have to see how the next couple of months play out…..
tomorrow is the day we get our prize….and I think we may be a little unprepared. many of the people around us peaked quite early on with their excitement of our impending arrival so we have purposely tried to remain level-headed and low key about it all – at times this has probably come across as indifference, oh well. I have enjoyed watching people’s different reactions to the comments my husband makes about our parenting decisions and the patronising pat on the shoulder followed by the “we’ll see” comments. we have all the basics to bring our baby home to and whatever we need after that will be easy enough to get but our lack of preparation is probably more evident in the way that today we just looked at each other and shared a laugh over the fact that today is our last day as just us – and Mr Rooben of course – but just Scott and Mika. tomorrow we two will be three and in all honesty I don’t think it matters if you have your first child in your 20’s, 30’s or even 40’s like me you still have no freaking idea what to do – I am just hoping that my age will help me manage the unexpected a bit better than I would have 20 years ago. maybe it will, maybe it wont. scott is going to have to learn how to hold his baby cause when he has ever held any of my besty’s kids it has been hilarious to watch as he holds them at arm’s length and says shhhhhh – parenting 101. I have always gone with the hand them back to mum when they get a bit whingey…ahhhh that’s not going to work with this one. the one thing that I do know for sure is that scott and I will be providing enough golden parenting moments to keep this blog going and to ensure people are amused, hey if you can’t laugh at yourself….
since I have started thinking about having the delivery via c section I have been thinking I wonder how it must feel to be the baby. one minute she will be just hanging out in the warm environment that has been home for 283 days the next she will be pulled out and inspected under the bright lights of the operating theatre surrounded by a team of unfamiliar faces – that she can’t see anyway – before she gets wrapped up and given back to me. no wonder they cry on arrival, she will feel the same way I do if its freezing cold and someone calls me 5 minutes before my alarm is due to go off….I just want that extra 5 minutes of warmth and comfort but once your out it takes too long to get back to that place so you may as well stay up. it would be weird if you could remember being born. surely if you went deep enough into a hypnotic state you would be able to draw on the memory or at least the feeling. having been born during the 70’s and the age of the power muff I am not sure I want to remember but my brother and I would be able to compare experiences as I was born naturally and my brother caesarean – he has a big head. mmmmm something to think about….
so yesterday in perth a 62-year-old dude on a surf ski was attacked by a great white – allegedly 3m long – and it bit the back of his ski. I think if it was serious and it was 3m long it would have finished the job but what struck me as interesting on the news last night was when the gent said he didn’t want the shark to be destroyed because “…it has as much right to be there as I do” sorry but last time I checked the shark is the only one who really has the right to be there and as humans we are the tourists. for the most part they let us enjoy their playground and sometimes they get bored and hungry so they chose to eat one of us. that’s the risk we take but if every time a shark has a pot shot at a human it runs the risk of being tracked down and destroyed I have to say that shit aint right. I am sure that families of people who have been taken by sharks would disagree but really in my mind unless I am taken by a shark in my own pool I have no right to destroy an animal that is doing what it’s instincts tell it to do. if he wants to see out 63 I would suggest he take yesterdays attack as a warning and stay out of the water for a while but I reckon he is probably back out there today but every shadow will bring his pulse rate up….