Sooooo....

The Lolster was happily kicking away at my placenta-buffer today on the screen. Well.... YA COULD KICK HARDER, THAT'D HELP! It seems it's grown across the entire front of my belly now, hence suddenly not being able to feel anything in there. So, to you, Lolly, I say: please position your size 7's on either side of your little home and practice your kicking there. Doooon't do it against mummy's front because otherwise she might go a little bit of crazy. That's my Lolly.

And on an entirely different note, I just need to get out: no matter what decisions are being made on behalf of little people in my life and in Steve's life right now, out of their control, I will never stop trying to contact them. I think any parent who, for whatever reason they think valid (when child endangerment is obviously not an issue), could suddenly deny their children contact with people who were previously very much in their lives, need to take a long hard look at the selfish reasons why they are doing it. It's not me who is hurting. It's them. Of course, I'm sad to not see them anymore, but I just wonder how it could possibly be justified to small children...... They will work it out for themselves one day, just like we had to. So disappointing that the mistakes of past generations appear to have reared their ugly heads again. Glad I'm not responsible for making the decision to cut ties, because I know I would never do it to my children, unless I feared for their physical safety.

At any rate, it's a sad reflection on the selfish and mental state of the decision-maker who's denying them access to us....

These here are crazy times

So I get a call on the weekend. It appears my estranged mother has been sprouting off to anyone who will listen that she "feels" I am pregnant and will have a baby in November. Interesting choice of month, given that's when her birthday is (mother is the most hung-up-on-dates person I've ever come across).

Of course, she doesn't know I am pregnant, but that's not the point. The point is, what if I wasn't? What a bloody cruel thing to be putting out there. Does the woman have no.... actually, sorry, she doesn't. I forgot. It's all about her, this life. Thaaaaat's right, it's the main reason why I had to sever contact with her in 2000.

Now there appears to be a scramble by some people to contact me and not only advise me she's started saying this, but then to ask what "I" want to do about it. Cue me with a look of mock surprise saying "Er...... try nothing?" I mean, this is coming from the same woman, the "mother", who wrote me a Christmas card the first year we were getting through Christmas without Ella, and in it she sprawled in big capital letters: "Why haven't you had a baby yet, are you too GUTLESS?" Before you wonder, yes she does know we lost a daughter and she a granddaughter that year - I guess she just forgot. I knew it was written by a mad woman, I knew she has probably (conveniently or otherwise) forgotten she ever wrote and sent that to me. But I can't un-read something like that. It's astoundingly insensitive coming from anyone, but from your mum? No matter what her mental status is, it's still hard to read something like that and just *bounce back*.

So I've left it with this caller that they simply. Do. Nothing. They've expressed it's going to be "tough" to lie, but they'll do it "for me"..... to which I said, "There is no need to lie, simply say 'That's a nice feeling, let's hope you're right'."

I mean, we're not out of the woods yet, not by a long shot. I've been sitting here getting more and more nervous since about Saturday because I haven't felt any movements that I can discern since then, not for lack of feeling/listening out for them either. And previous to this, I was getting at least one rumble or kick per day since about 15 weeks.

Needless to say, the last thing I want right now is a bombardment of phone messages and wild letters from a crazy person professing they "knew it", they had "a vision", when I'm wanting to just curl up in the foetal position and rock back and forth because I'm unsure everything's ok at all.

*sob* I can't even say I want my mummy....!

WHAT??!

We're out of Meaty Bites???!?!?

Ok, this is getting serious

I bought fitted cloth nappies today......

I was all prepared, had made my choices and bookmarked the sites so that in a few months' time, I could purchase them at the last minute. Things like that make it real and I guess I wasn't ready to get them until I was sure I'd need them. Mobiles and other things - blankets and making sheets - they're less personal. I don't know why nappies, of all things, hold such esteem in my scheme of things. Maybe because, of everything, a nappy is synonymous with "baby"? When little girls play "babies" (I know I did, endlessly), mostly all the play consists of is a lot swaddling and dressing of "babies" in nappies.

But I couldn't go past this deal. A girl was selling a bulk lot, assortments of just the kind I had planned to buy only "if and when".

Oh God, please don't let this become some sort of foul jinx. I can't believe I'm at the buying nappies end.

Wasn't until I did it that I realised, good Lord we're going to have a baby - another person, a beautiful, new, unique individual - sharing our home with us soon. And it will be their home, one that's been waiting here for so many years just for them. Oh my God.

Le Pathétique

Nooo! Take it again! I wasn't ready.


Did I move? I think I moved. Yeah... pretty sure I did.


Ok. This is it. This is my best pathetic look. How'd I go?

All backed up

From the prescription pad of Dr Steve, on the inevitable pregnancy-related constipation and resulting potential for straining that can and does sometimes occur:

"Don't force out today what's due out tomorrow."

Noted.

You got twenny bucks?

Your typical 5.30am conversation...

K: Lenny.... you awake?
S: Mmmphf
K: Well, see, I was just wondering....
S: *heavy sleepy breathing*
K: ....why are those sandwiches called elevenses?
S: Well, you know a bakers' dozen?
K: Yahh
S: It's because they take a bakers' dozen and take off the two crusts at either end so then you're just left with eleven. Elevenses.
K: Naaooooo, that's not right. A bakers' dozen doesn't refer to the number of slices in a loaf. It's the number of bakery items in a lot.
S: *silence*
K: *stumped by silence* Isn't it? That's not right. 'Cause there's not 13 slices in a loaf of bread. Or is there?
S: *breaking in on above out-loud train of thought by K* Ok, the real reason is, you remember Mary? Listen... remember Mary?
K: Mary?
S: Yeah, Mary, she was one of King Henry the IIIV's wives. See, she invented elevenses.
K: What? How do you know this? Did you go google?
S: *ignoring* Henry IIIV wanted a sandwich and she made one one day and because she was his eleventh wife and he was a bit of a pansy and he cut off her head, he called her sandwiches Elevenses. 'Cause she was his eleventh wife.
K: Naaoooooo! .............*unsure because S sounded so convincing* Really? Nah! Why wouldnt' they be eleventhses then? *thinking reeeeally hard, too hard, about it*
S: Lenny...
K: *musing* I always thought, as a kid, that they were called Elevenses 'cause after they cut the crusts off each edge of the sandwich, they cut them into three fingers and after you've eaten one, you're left with two. And that looks like the number eleven.....
S: Lenny...
K: Was it really invented by King Henry the IIIV's wife Mary? You're tricking, aren't you?
S: You got twenny bucks?
K: Wha'?!?
S: I've got this bridge I want to sell you....

Meet Lolly's parents, Steve and ..... Stevie .....

Apparently, according to The Way It Is According To Steve, I have suddenly become the best friend of Malcom Muntz, of Malcolm In The Middle fame.

I talk of Stevie, Malcolm's wheelchair-bound wheezy, outta breath friend. Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, funny boy.

.......it is kinda hilarious, actually, because I do have to sometimes punctuate my sentences in strange places by way of a breath every few words, a la Stevie fashion. The need to do this is heightened when I've exerted myself - after walking any distance (from fridge to workstation or kitchen to bed). Pottering. Brushing my teeth. Posting here.

Phew.

What the....

Note: if you click on this link you are navigating away from this bit of webspace that's free from adult site links and rude images and lots of naughty swear words....

So just don't blame me if you view this at work - don't worry, nothing "nasty" pops out at you on the link but it's on one of those sites that's got a million "Click Here"s, just letting ya know.

Cos I'm courteous. It's all part of the free service.

(video starts on load)
Mr Bush giving his State Of The Union address - remixed

BRING ME TWO CORKS.... STAT!!

Honestly, I don't know which one of you it is, or whether it's both of you. But I cannot stand it anymore!!!!!!!

STOP FARTING, DOGS!

This is a desperate plea. You both look so innocent, one either side of my workstation. Asleep. Nose under your front leg, Miss Mena (smart move, young lady, maybe it's you) and head over your curled up paw, Pepsi (but you're old so perhaps you've lost your sense of smell and don't care... it could very well be you)

My nose. It burrrrrrns! My eyes, they water!

I told Steve the other day that I could not afford for him to not cook up your casserole dinners, because the canned stuff just wreaks havoc on your insides and I have to pay for it all day. It appears the habit of pffft-ing into the air at regular intervals, like one of those ruddy Airwick scent dispensers, has become a joyful habit for one or both of you and it makes no difference that you now have your proper meals back.

Well. As Steve said this morning..... "At least it's not Chum night."

Sticky Lolly

I have been struggling with a few things lately regarding this pregnancy.

Now that the initial will it/won't it stay stage is out of the way (and I've only ever come this far once before), I am free to look forward to meeting our little Lolly - for those of you not in the know, Jubjub became Lolly on this day when we saw a real baby and not a blob on the screen.

Only thing is.... this is a scary territory for me. I've read other people's posts about how people they know assume they are "over" their lost child simply because they are continuing on and nurturing another life inside them. It's a really sad, and very incorrect, assumption. I have already started to feel myself grappling with how to handle this. On the one hand, the joy is wonderful and welcome. I want to give this baby the best possible start and am opening my heart to it as much as I can right now, and it's no push to do this.

Now on the other hand, where is Ella in all of this? Some people around us already find it quite difficult to speak to us about her, and I fear that with another baby on the way, she will be well and truly be pushed to the back of their minds. How relieved they will be when there is another baby to focus on and they won't have to search for something to say to us.

I'll never be over losing my daughter. I know that rationally, people know this. But their actions speak louder than their unspoken words and you can feel the discomfort in some people. For the most part, I've surrounded myself with people who understand and who are already there for me. I am not interested in re-establishing lost relations with people who have been unable to handle supporting me through the worst two years of my life. Why the hell should I have to share only the good, capable side of me with them? Particularly when I've always, always stayed and supported some of these others even when no one else would.

Nup. The deserters can stay deserted ...... and get their just desserts.

Am not! Are too.

He works hard for the money

So hard for it, honey...

To see a seamless three-hours-in-the-working-day of El Stevo, separated by a night where I assume he came home, click either of the links below. I find it amusing to press pause at odd places to see what face the squirrel with the acorns in its cheeks is pulling. Funny that one of my most enduring nicknames for him is Beaver. He is certainly making himself appear busy like one. It's all done with smoke and mirrors.

The big file download (approx. 5mb)
The itty bitty file download (fast download, 2mb file)