Tuesday, 27 November 2007

In which I am a bitchbitch bitch

I have always been really good at being really nice. I suppose that's why I excelled so far when I was working within the hospitality industry.
Even on my worst days I was always capable of kissing ass better than the rest. It's like my gift, my forte, this sickening ability to be positive and happy all.the.time.

Not anymore.

unless it's after 10am and I've had a coffee you can fuck right off. I'm not even pleasant to the people at work now. I just feel really offended when someone tries to make small talk with me before 10am... Who do you think you are? Do I look like your friend? Do I look interested? NO, I'M NOT. Ass wipe.

And IF you HAVE to make small talk with me can it at least be about something, anything, other than the baby. I swear to god it was only two days ago you asked me when it's due... well, it's still February 26th and it still will be February 26th next week too.... SO STOP FUCKING ASKING.

I blame this spurt of "I hate everyone" on the pregnancy of course, like I blame everything on the pregnancy.

Welcome to your third trimester...

yeah, thanks a lot.

Friday, 23 November 2007

In which I get kicked and punched in the gut. a lot.

I'm 26 weeks and 3 days pregnant today. Third trimester next week, which means I still have another 3 months to go. I am so over being pregnant.

Generally, it's ok. like the whole magical aspect of growing a life, my child, inside me. that's a beautiful thought, and the thought that I'm going to be a Mother...It's exciting and beautiful and I sometimes find myself almost moved to tears when I think of it.

But at the moment I'm a bit bored of pregnancy. Maybe because I feel like my normal self. I'm not too tired, I'm not puking, I'm not having weird cravings, I generally feel absolutely fine... Except there is this thing kicking inside me.all.the.time... ALL THE TIME.

My god, He never stops! I mean, at first it was cute, come evening time I'd feel this little pop inside, like popcorn going off in my tummy, it was lovely, cute... Now all the time, morning, noon, night I have this thump, bump, kick. I feel like my rib cage keeps being rattled, like the little bugger is running his tin cup along them crying "let me out, let me out". I find myself pacing our kitchen in the evening in a hope to calm him down and feeling almost irritated that I have to do that (it makes it even worse that I get the impression my husband thinks I'm over exaggerating) And then it hits me, I'm going to be doing this a lot more soon, except rather than rocking my tummy back and forth I'll be rocking my baby son in my arms.

I guess that makes it ok.

In fact... That, I look forward to.

Tuesday, 20 November 2007

In which I find myself overwhemed

Hello my faceless friends, I'm back from a long weekend in Sweden visiting my eldest brother. Always the experience, but more on that later.

At the moment I am totally overwhelmed at work. Everyone has got attitude and everyone is disorganized and thus expecting me to compensate for them. Well fuck off. I've had to turn down two people for meetings today which ends up meaning I get nasty attitude for them. Hey, I can't help it if you and your team of PA's can't manage to book a meeting room in time.

It's moments like these when I wish I was doing something more exciting with my life and wasn't being so fucking practical about "Well this job is good hours and pay and I get great maternity leave blah blah blah" ... Fuck, I should become a zoo keeper or something... A cowgirl, maybe.

I hope this baby of mine is into a high excitement life because he is so going to be dragged on all my little adventures. Maybe I'll call him Indiana.

I'll be back later with a more thorough update of the weekend, in which I shall discuss my Brother's crazy house hold with 5 kids and way to many animals, my autistic nephew and my super woman sister-in-law.

Thursday, 15 November 2007

In which I have a new flat

The title pretty much sums it up. Husband and I have found new flat. 2 double bedroom with a garden and nice sized living room. This is why I haven't been blogging much this week. Not only has work been busy but every spare moment I've had has been spent searching the net looking for flats and/or houses. Finally we've found one. Essentially it ticks all the boxes. It's a bit dated but my husband's trade is tilers/painter/decorator and he's got a team of 7 strapping young men who I'm sure will help us update our new pad for baby's arrival. I'm really excited because now I can finally settle and enroll myself in all those yoga and antenatal classes I've been wanting to do, and not to mention visit my hospital ward where I'll be popping the little one out. The flat is within walking distance of a daycare, park, high street, shops, petting zoo, adult education center (for my hobbies) and the hospital..

Also random awesome fact: all of my neighbors are nurses.

So now I get to have a snoop around on Ikea for FURNITURE and also will start planning color schemes.

Ugh, this is more exciting than Christmas... which reminds me, we'll be moved in by 14th of Dec. Bonus.

Now excuse me while I go spread my good news.

Tuesday, 13 November 2007

Why can I not find a jumper or cardigan?

Honestly... I've been to all the shops under the sun and not one of the fuckers is selling maternity jumpers, cardigans and/or jackets. Ok, not intirely true, Mothercare are selling a gray "I want to kill myself because I'm so dull" hoodie, but it's not really my style.

I've even looked online and although I found one or two shops that sell them, they are of course designer and thus out of my price range.

Monday, 12 November 2007

In which my husband truly understands

For those of you women out there who say men will never understand us, I give you, my husband.

Yesterday husband and I were having a cuddle on the bed after an active morning shopping and the like, my head on his sturdy chest, his hand caressing over the bump of our child inside me resting between us, feeling the little poppop's of our son moving.

"It's so amazing" muttered I

"What is?" Says he

"What my body is doing and will go through to bring our child into this world, it makes me feel almost primitive but... privileged as well"

"You know, I was thinking about that" He turns to me, eyes excited, hand resting on my bump "I was watching you sleep last night and I was thinking how amazing it is what you are doing"

I smile, feeling girly inside that he was watching me in my sleep "Yeah, and I don't get a break either"

He nods "Yeah, exactly. I was thinking of how amazing that is for you, how strange to feel another life moving inside you" ...I'm nodding, thinking about it more myself "but also how frustrating that must be" He continues "to not even be able to put the baby down for an hour or something to have a rest... I was trying to think of something I could compare it to that would make me understand better"

I'm flattered and impressed that he is finally realizing the weight of what is happening, that he has taken the time to think about it, that I am not alone in my thoughts, "did you think of something you could relate it to?" I ask, gazing lovingly at him.

He nods, eyes serious, hand cupping my cheek. "You know when my feet get hot and itchy?"

...I am silent, so he continues;

"And I get really frustrated and I have to take my socks off to let them breathe?"

....My brow is furrowed, wondering, no, hoping that he isn't going where I think he's going with this.

"Well, I guess it's kind of like that for you...But you can't take your socks off for 9 months"

He is. But the look of love and pride in his eyes stills my sarcastic comment and I realize that this isn't something he's just spewing but something he's really been thinking about, something he really wants to understand.

I kiss him lightly and smile "You got it, baby, it's exactly like that"

Saturday, 10 November 2007

In which I do an early saturday morning

Saturday morning and I'm up and out before the clock hits 7am. Impressive.

I'm sat in husbands office while he is hosting an exec decorating spree of some sort... Not sure exactly, it involves painting and sorting out his staff gally... I was pulled in to help but when other managers here saw my big swollen belly I was ushered up to the restaurant and served a beautiful cooked breakfast. Yum. Also have now been offered a free massage from the club manager. Thank you lord.

It's likely I'll be going for a dip in the pool later, maybe after the massage, and then take my time in the luxurious changing room as I dress for our night out. Birthday drinks tonight with a work colleague of mine up in Angel, Actually really looking forward to this.

I've had so much on my mind this week that I haven't been able to focus on one thing. Just totally overwhelmed by a million things... But not in a bad way. I'm happy, that's good. Husband is looking after me well, and lately, there has been this extremely tender look in his eyes that's just...absolutely breath taking. I've never been looked at like that and it makes me feel totally secure in us and him. Right on.

Now I'm going to go and find a bathroom in this jungle of a place before I explode and then off to the pool! or maybe a nap first... This office chair is quiet comfortable.

Friday, 9 November 2007

In which I apologize

Maybe not apologize so much as make excuses.

I haven't been posting in this blog or using it to mine and its full potential, and the reason/excuse for this is I don't have Internet access at home and thus all my writing is done while procrastinating at work. Fair enough, I do procrastinate quiet a fair bit while at my desk, BUT it is still extremely hard to "tap in" to my inner snark writer when every 10 minutes or so I am getting interrupted by *gasp* work... I know, I know, how dare they!

Anyways, point is darlings that I can't really get stuck into my blogging and make it as personal and honest as I'd like because I have hoverer's... you know, the numptys that hover behind your desk pretending to be making conversation or reading a fax when you know in fact they are looking over your shoulder trying to see who's sending you e-mails and what's on your desktop.

I can give you more excuses if you like, but I won't because you deserve better than that, what you deserve is straight forward honest blogging, which, I will hopefully be able to do more of once we move into our new house, get our new wireless access set up and I get my snazzy new laptop. Yes siry, 007Eve found out what her husbands getting her for Christmas. Nice.

I also keep believing that once I go on maternity leave (mid February) I'll have more time to write... This may be totally wrong as I really have no idea how much "me time" my baby plans on taking from me. Yes yes, I know, being a parent is a full time 24/7 job and I'm prepared for that, but I'm assuming baby's do sleep at some point, yes? And when baby is sleeping I can sit and write, yes? ... Why do I feel like someones laughing at me?

Anyways, Excuses done and over with, I'll blog as often and as personal as possible but it's likely you'll get the full taste of me once I've popped this little fella out. I'm sure I'll need somewhere to spew my insides anyways.

Wednesday, 7 November 2007

In which I get busy in covert operations and go to friends for dinner

Yesterday, I have to say, was awfully productive.

Work was busy with investigating the whereabouts of missing champagne bottles and then discussing the option of rigging up a CCTV camera to our fridge to catch the thief. I work for a posh/wealthy Asset Management company and whenever we have functions/meetings we indulge our clients with expensive (and I mean £1000 per bottle expensive) bottles of wine and champagne, which I store in a big fridge... My wine/champagne keeps disappearing. It amuses me really because the majority of our staff work for over £70k... they can afford their own drink... I guess nothing quiet like a freebie. anyways, I've decided to find out who is doing it more for the curiosity factor than anything and am debating rigging traps to capture the thief red-handed... I might go home and watch Home alone for some inspiration.

After work I went to Husbands office to drop of a Phil Collins CD I brought for him (Fact: I am an awesome wife)
while there an incident occurred with me bent over his desk and the wearing of lacy red french knickers (Note: I was not the one wearing the lacy red french knickers). Hot.

After, I made my way over to see a good friend at her boyfriends house (we will here on in call good friend: Wife, because we are constantly referring to her as Phil's 2nd wife...No, we have not had a threesome. Tho' it has been discussed) for dinner where we discussed both our wonky bowl movements, men wearing women's knickers, her future (or lack there of) with current boyfriend, and who's the better cook...which I won because I figured out how to microwave our bung-in-the-oven dinners while she struggled to unwrap a package of cheese and confused coriander with parsley (This is why husband needs two wives). I absolutely love wife, shes one of my top favourite people in the world.

After dinner husband collected me from wife's boyfriends house and we crawled home for midnight. I was knackered. I can't believe I stayed up that late, usually I'm dead beat by 10pm. It felt good. It felt really good. I felt like my old self again. Finally.

All in all I chalk Tuesday down to a really good day, maybe even a favourite of recent times.

Monday, 5 November 2007

In which I think about home

I am seriously tempted to recklessly blow some money on a flight home for a week, or maybe forever.

FYI "home" is California and where my family is.

My dislike for England is not uneducated, I am in fact a biased anal American. Stars and stripes! ... What?

I'm feeling very homesick. I always feel very home sick at this time of year. Not only is Christmas approaching but also because I'm sat in England in November already wearing my long underwear, scarf, hat and mittens and I get calls from brothers and mothers living in California advising me its suppose to hit 80 today and sister calling me from Hawaii going on about her day at the beach...

Am I jealous? Yes. Resentful? Totally.

I can not wait to move back State side.

Now excuse me while I go play bingo, the lottery and online poker in an attempt to win money for my ticket home.

it should be also noted that this post was meant for yesterday but some how was left in drafts...You can blame me and my inept ability to work any technology or you can blame blogger. I go for the latter.

Sunday, 4 November 2007

In which I am home alone

It's bomb fire night tomorrow but all weekend there have been fireworks.

I live on a top floor studio flat and it's perfect for sticking my head out the skylight and watching the fireworks across London. There are many many displays and I absolutely love seeing them, or even just listening to the crackling bangs laced with the sound of police sirens underneath. Ahhh, I sure do love England.

I would much like to go to a fireworks display. Husband and I were going to go yesterday but I ended up having a bit of an emotional moment and we decided to stay at home and cuddle on the couch instead, moving the plans to this evening... Which have now, due to un-foreseen circumstances, been cancelled as well.

Husband has been gone since 10 this morning at a colleagues of his house installing a bathroom... This is the draw back of husband being of the higher archey maintenance type, everyone wants him to fix their kitchens/bathrooms/cars/life for free and he's too kind to turn it down. It's lovely and honorable that he will always do these favours but gets on my selfish tits that it takes our weekends away. He should have only been installing this bathroom until about 3pm then we were to head to a fireworks display but because his numpty colleague didn't prepare and or buy any supplies husband now will not be home until 10pm...if I'm lucky. It's hard work having a nice husband.

Thing that bugs me though if this was foreseen i would have made plans with friends or just gotten my ass down to a fireworks display on my own, but I've been getting sporadic calls all day saying "only a few more hours" until about 6pm when I got the "it's going to be a late one". Woe. woe...

Don't get me wrong, I don't mind being on my own. in fact I love it. I'm very protective of my space and my "me time" and I like it in large quantities, but I'm a bit bored now, so bored I'm writing this stupid post... I could tell you about yesterday and my emotional break down over having a baby, or I could tell you about my husband and I playing the "honest options" game, or I could tell you about me saving my best friends sex life... But I'm so bored I can't focus and/or be assed anymore.

I'm sure tomorrow when I'm at work pretending to work I'll be able to blog something more insightful.

We'll wait until then.

Friday, 2 November 2007

In which I'm paranoid and discecting my husbands actions

I'm writing this down because it doesn't matter how many times I think about it I still can't understand.

Here is the story;

My husband and I hooked up end of November 2006, both of us were in relationships at the time, both of those relationships were failing. Well... Mine was, and husbands was not failing but not progressing and according to him "boring" and not what he wanted (ah, shit. See now this has made me think of something else...in time).

Anyways, we fooled around, slept together a couple of times but mostly just spent a lot of time together talking, drinking, enjoying each others company. I broke up with ex late January and kept seeing now husband, who was still in relationship...WHO kept telling me he was planning on leaving her (not that i asked him too, I'd like to stress, and nor did he ask me to leave my ex) but was chicken to do so. Fair enough, whatever, I kept seeing him, it started to get more serious, I started to think I might be falling in love, he made it known he was, he didn't want me to see anyone else (although did say he knew he couldn't say that until he was single) etc. etc.

eventually he left his ex (I think late march? early April?) and not long after proposed (well...not so much as proposed and said thought we should marry and that if he didn't marry me wouldn't marry anyone, I thought was a good idea and sounded like fun, oh, and of course loved him) and then a few months later got married.

Now... here is where it gets interesting, assuming you're keeping up.

Got married in June and conceived our first lil baby (yes the one I'm 23 weeks with now) on the honeymoon week (although we didn't actually go on honeymoon), and hurrah here we are. Husband always liked to announce to everyone and tell everyone he's married/having a kid/has a hot young American wife/etc. even when i asked him not too (didn't want to announce pregnancy until 3rd month, husband stayed mum for about 2 days. His excitement is cute)... So, Everything is dandy, yes?


Husband has a friend. We'll call this friend Boy band (only because according to husband he looks like he should be in one...hm...wouldn't mind an introduction). So back in the day (maybe 4-6 months before me) Boy band and husband spent about 6 months going out every night and just generally being crazy lads, husband would call boy band his closest friend.

Now a' days boy band and husband only talk business (maybe once a month if that) because people just grow apart or something... but husband still does talk to Boy Band, you know for the occasional updates etc...But, you see, Boy band has no idea that his old best friend (husband) is married and expecting his first child... Why? because husband doesn't want to tell boy band for fear boy band will tell his ex and then cause his ex undue pain...


Now, I understand the nobility of husband not wanting to hurt his ex. very nice, and obviously handy for me so that i know when our marriage ends (sorry, i meant "if our marriage ends"...) he'll be kind about it. BUT I think it's a little silly when it gets to the point of blatantly lying to boy band (who is NOT friends with his ex. btw. they just happen to know some of the same people...maybe...husband isn't even sure. this is all on assumption) to protect an ex... an ex who's feelings he is putting before his pregnant wives..

Do you see where i am going here? why i am not only confused but also obviously pissed off and a little suspicious.

I could honestly go on about this for days and days to the point where you were begging me to stop. So I'll stop now to spare you (but only because I know I will be returning to this subject time and time again).

So quickly to round it up:

Why would my husband hide me from boy band? His argument; To spare his ex.

Mine: I bet she's over you now, it's been long enough and I'm sure she's dating.

His argument: But just in case

Mine: But who's more important? An ex or your wife?

I feel like he's hiding me, or maybe something from me. Paranoid? likely. I can only assume he is either

A. Secretly in love with Boy Band and doesn't want to hurt Boy Bands feelings

B. Not totally over Ex

C. Stupid

Unfortunately the most likely out of those three is A. When husband and I first hooked up it was widely believe amongst out group of friends that he was gay.

No. I don't believe it is any of those (and if he was a big into the boy love, that's fine with me as long as I can watch) and when i really think about it I don't think it is anything wrong... I DO trust him ... It's just a very strange situation, you know? It doesn't make sense to me at all..."talk to him" you say. yeah yeah, i know. But I also know what he's going to say is not going to give me an answer because he is never going to tell Boy band about us. Boy band will only find out if he directly asks "So, you married yet?" which, lets be honest, men never do.

In which I get reflective

One of the worst things about being sick and under house arrest is being left alone with your thoughts.

A lot of people like to be left alone with their thoughts, sort through the junk and emotions and get their head on straight. I'm all for that too, but when you're forced to be left alone with your thoughts it's just not the same. It's like the whole alone thing, no one likes to be left alone unless they choose to be alone. Also, being pregnant makes everything ten times more intense.

I've always been a very confident woman. I've been known to use the word vain to describe myself (but the dictionary term, not the derogated term it has now become) many a times and I'm proud of being confident... Because of this I've never felt extreme jealousy and/or paranoia concerning my relationships because I felt I was worth it and trusted that the people i care about were truthful.

Now though, I'm beginning to get paranoid and jealous concerning my husband and it is so uncharacteristic of me and I hatehatehate it, because I've never felt these emotions before I'm not so sure how to deal with them. Something in my heart tells me he would never ever do anything to sabotage us but I still get suspicious ever though there is no reason.

I blame hormones. In fact I blame everything on pregnancy. Where did my pregnancy "glow" go dammit?

Well at least if anything I can look back on Halloween night 2007 and fondly recall my first experience with a bondage kit.

We so still got it.

In which my house keeping abilities shine

was just rummaging through the crisp basket in search of some kind of food and found at the bottom of mentioned basket a plastic bag and in this plastic bag was a bagel...Now, I only recognized said bagel because at the bottom of the plastic bag underneath all of the dust like mold was a poppy seed...

I vaguely recall buying a poppy seed covered bagel about 3 months ago.


In which I'm sick

a quick note to say/whine/complain that I am sick and at home.

I have surrounded myself by used tissues and bottles of water and am snuggled up on the couch with my duvet.

There's a whole day ahead of me where I can write a much more exciting blog post, which i of course plan to do, but at the moment there is a box of ready break and a boiled kettle calling my name.

Wednesday, 31 October 2007

in which is think about my diminishing sex life

Chaps and Lasses it is official... I am walking the walk. Yes, the pregnancy walk.
Legs spread, knees slightly bent, pelvis thrust forward, one hand resting on my swollen belly and the other bringing up the rear.

If it wasn't for the obvious baby i am housing in my belly you would think I was begging for a good stiff one... Well...I am... but that's another story.

Actually, no, it's not. Lets discuss this.

First off, last night husband did not come home drunk, so was not all over me like a rash...which unfortunately wasn't a bad thing because by the time he got home I was fast asleep...This was at 10pm. pathetic, I know. Anyways, this left me with a rather strong taste for a bit of shagging this morning...

Today on my lunch break I ventured to the one and only Ann Summers in hopes to some how give my libido a kick start. I know some men (my husband being one of them) say Pregnant women are sexy but to me I just feel totally out of whack. Sexy is about confidence and attitude right? so how can I be sexy when I'm walking like a penguin and have trouble sitting down, let alone pulling my limbs into any other weird and wonderful positions, thus making me a moody shit who is sure she looks fat in whatever she wears. And I have to say one of the most un-sexy things I've ever seen is a belly button that is on the verge of going from and innie to an outie...ew. So what better way to feel sexy than to go out and buy myself a Bondage starter kit? Of course accompanied by some nice new frilly knickers and bra (and i might have purchased some Durex play as well... refer to: Current needs).

So the plan for this Halloween night will be busting out my new kit after dinner, but after texting husband "I hope you're up for playing tonight" and there was no reply I called to see what was up..."I'm fucking knackered" ... Of course, he says he'll "give it a go" assuming i inspire a little energy into him. But honestly, where has our relationship gone too if not even and blindfold some black tape and a 5 tailed whip can't spark a little fire?

Is this the sign that the honey moon period is over? So soon? ... I wonder if we weren't married if he'd be up for it more often... Maybe it's the age gap... He is 15 years my senior. I'm not saying he can't get it up as often, because, oh, he can. oh yes. mmmyes. BUT maybe what my mother said is true "as you get older, it's not so much about sex anymore and you don't feel the need to talk about it as much" ... Is this so? Because i have noticed i do talk about it a lot more than him, in fact I feel I must go over the event blow by blow while we're doing the "cuddling" after in an almost review style...I kid you not, my friends. It's as if I've just seen the latest block buster and must voice my opinion about all the characters and special effects (of which are many) and then of course the final scene (the climax...of which there are sometimes "alternative endings"). Is that because of my age or because I'm just awfully fond of sex, but even more fond of talking?

Tuesday, 30 October 2007

in which i get inventive with ice cream

just had vanilla ice cream with raspberry preserves. I don't care what anyone says vanilla ice cream should not be eaten alone. tinned peaches, pecans, digestive biscuits, anything. I can mix anything with ice cream, and will. Before the raspberry preserve i was desperate for some classic vanilla and chocolate sauce. But alas, the cupboard is empty. I blame England for not having imported Hershey's syrup yet (Oh America, how i miss thee)... Not to worry though, improvise. Turn away from the kitchen and to the bedroom draws... Now, where did I leave that chocolate body paint?

In which i discuss my sex life and my mother in one post. oops?

I've just made the most delicious chicken salad in all of my culinary history. I really should cook more often.

The husband is out tonight on yet another Director/Head of department/Boss/THE ALL POWERFUL dinner/drinks thing. I say yet another because they seem very regular although this may just be because i never get out anymore. Don't get me wrong, i don't mind him going out, in fact i like it. Love it even. Him out of the house means I can cook dinner for one (my choice and NO complaints), eat ice cream with strange and wonderful toppings (pregnancy cravings...No, I haven't tried pickles yet), control the remote (football and trashy soaps galore!), sit on the computer and blog in peace (hello there), have an absurdly long shower without being interrupted (can't he hold it?), and bust out the vibrator (what? and you don't?).

Also, i find it such a strange turn on when husband comes home drunk and is all over me. Yum. Is it sick that i like that i can totally take advantage of him? I mean, of course he enjoys it (who wouldn't?) but there is just something so totally satisfying about giving drunk husband a blow job and then climbing on for a ride. I suppose it's the illusion of having power over him (drunk husband is never drunk enough not to know whats going on and protest and or take "the power" if he wanted to...but it's nice to pretend)...Maybe i should become a dominatrix. Though I've never been big on the idea of role play, only because i know I'd start laughing.

He shouldn't be home though for another few hours which leaves me plenty of time to procrastinate. I wish i could figure out how to upload pictures, my mother always sends me crazy pictures and videos of what she is doing whenever we chat online (yes, she's a hip mum, very computer savvy...very savvy actually. Must be where i get it from), well... actually they are not crazy pictures and videos, they are just pictures and videos of her... it's just she's a bit crazy, but in one of those "I hope I'm like you when i grow up" crazy ways.. Quirky, maybe? No, quirky is what old grannies are. Actually... I suppose my mother is an old granny... well not oldold.older... How does one define ones mother? I'd like to say she's a lot like me, but that's not true, because actually I'm a lot like her.

Yes, I say that proudly.

And i find it totally appropriate that i discussed my sex life (including my plastic friend) and my mother in one blog entry... Or maybe not. I'm sure she won't mind. like I said, she's quiet savvy.

Monday, 29 October 2007

In which I am amazed by tits and lack of hair

I am totally fascinated with my tits.

I must have spent a good few hours yesterday just studying them and weighing them up (literally), to me it is endlessly fascinating to feel my breast get heavier, to have new found cleavage that I have no idea what to do with and how to display (it must be displayed!), and most strangely how my nipples have not only darkened and gotten larger (I could guide an aircraft in for landing with these bad boys) but also how they have definitely changed in shape as well... they now look like they are meant for feeding. Hard to explain without going into much detail concerning the shape of my areola... Which maybe we'll save for another day.

at 23 weeks (tomorrow) my whole body is changing... bigger boobies, wider hips (which has nothing to do with the consumption of all things salty. yes salt, bad mummy), more...shall we say; inventive, bowel movements, and my hair. yes...my hair has changed, and no, not the hair on top of my head, I mean the hair everywhere else. It hasn't been growing back lately. Legs, underarms, lady bits, all seemingly smoother than before. HURRAH! less maintenance! Even my mustache is less obvious... Geeze, I hope that never gets back to my husband or the illusion will be ruined.

Sunday, 28 October 2007

In which I cry about the woes of being pregnant

Sunday, the day of lie-ins and more than one breakfast. Woke up to the husband caressing my cheek (yes, with his hand) and "aw, my little monster" (Monster is husbands favourite nick name for me, which, i am sure, will become clear as to why as this blog develops), of course a very beautiful and affectionate way to wake in the morning but also slightly unnerving if only for the fact that with pregnancy my face seems to have resorted to its once teenage self...Yes, the dreaded pimples (ugh, yes, plural) are back. So of course this results in every morning a quick run to the bathroom for a "spot check" (pun intended) before the husband lays eyes on his "glowing" wife.

I'm young, it was only a year or so ago that I finally came out of that stage of adolescence... I'm always very suspicious when someone say I have the pregnancy glow. I chalk it down to good make up application that morning, because I know as soon I get home and wash the layers of medium beige, bronze glow and rouge that underneath my poor acne prone skin is flaring up and screaming to get.this.baby.out.

don't get me wrong, I do love being pregnant, and I am at times, overwhelmed by the beauty of it all, but i do miss the "old me"... Drinking, smoking ... OK, fine, I realize that all those things aren't good for me, but drinking and smoking is cool...right? Better examples of things I miss are maybe staying awake later than 10:30pm, touching my toes, and giving my husband blow jobs while he's driving. Ah, those were the days.