Bricking it.

I've got my scan on Monday. With Taylor, We'd seen him twice already and the daily nausea and vomiting was reassuring to me - I was definitely still pregnant. This time around, I've been clear of all nausea for the past 3 weeks and aside from a wee bump (which - let's face it - could easily be the result of not being on my 1280cal/day diet any more) there's nothing really to say that I'm still successfully pregnant. There's nothing to say I'm not, of course... but I'd prefer the relative security of feeling like crap to this kind of limbo. I've been so tempted to get a second-hand doppler but I've no experience trying to find a foetal heartbeat so I'd only stress myself out more. That's what I keep telling myself.

In other news, I'm fighting off yet another cold - I'm like a freaking magnet for ickness anyway, it just gets worse when I'm pregnant. This time though I have VICKS! and it seems to be working a treat. Still plagued by headaches, but they too will pass.

I've almost taken down all of the birthday decorations, too. There are a couple of balloons still up and a "Birthday Boy" banner. The room looks so.... sparse without something on the walls though. When we get a mortgaged place, that WILL change. I can't invest in wall hangings for a rental though, especially when we don't know the layout for where we will be moving to next and thus can't plan said wall hangings. Getting a computer desk in the next wee while, to go with hubby's new computer - this means... I GET MY FOOD TABLE BACK!!! I can once more use it for food preparation (pasta, pastry etc) and serving, and we can once more all sit down to dinner as a family, which we've not done in far too long. And once that is done, I can start planning how the room will be decorated for Christmas. It involves sacrificing half the table for a small tree, just to keep it out of the reach of small people.

Speaking of small people, someone needs a diaper change. I can smell him from across the room...

Post-birthday realisations:

1) I'd rather not have a party on the actual birthday, not at this young age. All I wanted to do yesterday was sit and watch him play, or cuddle him, generally be soppy... and instead I was rushing around like a mad thing trying to make sure people had enough to drink, enough to eat, that stuff wasn't burning in the oven or on the hob... it was hectic. Couldn't have done it without my helping hands (thanks ladies, mostly Caz!) and got a big hug from Bruce at the end of the night as he could see I was pretty worn out.

2) Cater for the original guest list, no matter how many people drop out. Food will never go to waste. And while you're at it, that modest cake? Make it bigger. Cake will always get eaten!

3) Disposable utensils, cooking trays, plates - bad for the environment, good for the post-party clean-up. JUST DO IT. I forgot to get disposable glasses/mugs. I won't the next time.

4) Fancy dress - don't bother until the kids are old enough to get into the spirit of it, as most people generally CBA. At least if the kids are 4+ THEY will insist on getting dressed up. Think of fancy dress as setting a good example for their imagination.

5) Boxes are the most fun thing EVER. Keep them all. Make a fort. Make a tunnel. Make a barrier so you can have a sneaky glass of wine without little hands reaching for your glass.


I now need to find a box big enough to put all of his cards in, with the little candle that went on his cake, some of the balloons and banners that we had on the walls, that kinda thing. Will get some pictures printed out and slide some of those in, too. Some time this week, I'll get his hand and feet prints, they can go in there, and a wee card telling them how tall they were on this special day. Their first birthday might not be remembered by them, but it's a big moment for you, the parent. It'll be nice for them to look in that box when they're older to see how many people came to celebrate with them, and how much love went into that day.

Dammit, I'm crying again.

So, this time last year...

Ooooh it's starting.

This time last year I'd just been saying goodbye to Bruce, he went back home to take care of the kitties as I had to stay in hospital overnight for the induction process. I was listening to another girl get a shot of morphine for the pain she was in, then she passed out and I was effectively alone until near midnight when a nurse came in to start the whole thing off. Great, I thought, I'll have a baby tomorrow! Ha, yeah... Luckily I'd made a small mountain of food during the day, so I had plenty of nibbles to pick at to pass the time.

Unfortunately, that ended up being part of the problem, as the little troll was back-to-back and how he was positioned meant I couldn't "go"... so I was eating, and it was kinda... not leaving my system. It all got kinda congested in there.

The things we learn, eh? This time around, I shall be eating light, drinking lots, and taking Dulcoease every day starting at 39 weeks.

Sleepover...

I have two days to myself. Bub is off to grandad's for his first EVER overnight stay anywhere further than the next bedroom. I wailed like a teenager who dropped their brand new custom iPhone down the loo when they drove off.

That's not to say I'll be lounging around on Facebook or watching DVD's... the housework has taken a whopping slide since I came off my meds back in July, I've a mountain of laundry (clean) that needs to be sorted, folded, put away. Need to spot treat the carpet and rug where the small person has ground bits of soggy shortbread into the pile. Hoovering needs to be done. Decluttering needs to be done. The next level of babyproofing needs to be organised (this involves the areas between 3' and 4' high all around the lounge). Dusting. Polishing. COOKING, shit, yes, I need to make dinner, too. Cleaning the surfaces in the kitchen where muddy little paws have made their mark (top of the washing machine and the windowsill they use as a cat flap).

I would also like to try and rearrange our bedroom so that I know how it will look when the cot and associated gubbins is back in there for the littlest bub.

If I get all of that done, I have a couple of Unloveables that need finishing off prior to joining their finished pals in the post tomorrow!

I need to take it easy though, the trip to the Post Office is an hour's walk, all told. Half an hour there, half an hour back. I'm under strict instructions from the physio not to overdo things and if my hip starts to hurt I have to stop and wait for it to not hurt again before carrying on... The point of pain is usually around the 20min mark of walking :/ so this could be interesting. I might have to get dear hubby to take the packages into work and post them in his lunch break instead.

First things first though - I need fuel. Brekkie is calling. Come here, pretty bagel...

The first casualty.

I defriended someone on Facebook today. We had a difference of opinion about my opinion.

I can understand why they felt like they had to say something, I guess. I've often wanted to shake someone so hard that their ignorance sloughs off like a snake's skin... but I wasn't being ignorant, nor was I being disrespectful or insensitive. I expressed my opinion on a matter that I have had glancing experience with, on my personal page in a string of comments stemming from a status update about a TV show.

Yes, Strictly Come Dancing has a lot to answer for, apparently.

Their thoughts on the matter were that, unless I have had direct experience on the matter, I should voice no opinion at all.

So... does this mean that the politicians who campaign about winter fuel allowance, or about child poverty, that they should have no opinion? Does it mean that straight people can't support gay rights? That men can't support women's rights? Does it mean that people in one country can't despair over the treatment of people in another, simply because they've not lived it personally?

Of course it bloody doesn't.

As with anything, if you don't like what you are reading (or seeing, in general), feel free to stop. Do something else. Divert your attention with a wholesome activity that distracts you from your target's apparent naivete. Don't go off on one at them about how self-centered they are and transfer your personal anguish on them as if it is as a direct result of what they have said that you are hurting.  Just go away and breathe, grab your kid or your pet or your other half or your pillow and wail your heart out if you need to, but don't try and make someone else feel like shit because of something that you drew from whatever it was that they said. You and only you are responsible for your own personal happiness or sadness and you take responsibility of this by choosing what to read, what to watch, and in some cases, what to hear.

I don't have Sky News or BBC News tabs up on my browser, only a local news feed for my region, and that is a decision I made for my own sanity and my own happiness.

Unfortunately, the person in question kept responding to my initially apologetic (for I am not without empathy) and then increasingly neutral (for I am, however, limited in patience) responses, and it essentially ended up with name-calling. Apparently, at 32 I am far too young to have any opinions on anything, and apparently I am being self-centered to boot! Well, there you have it, folks. Apparently I've not outgrown the persona of "child" in the eyes of someone who considers herself to be an "adult" and thus "superior" to me. THIRTY-TWO. /facepalm 

I fully accept that my opinions may change over time, much like a scientific hypothesis. I even said to her opinions are often coloured by experience, but that doesn't make one any less valid than another. but apparently that was not good enough for her to just let things lie, so she ended up blocked as well.

Because, you see, I am responsible for my own personal happiness, and no-one gets to try and make me feel like shit because of their issues.

Here endeth the rant.

Points if you can correctly guess the topic of my opinion that caused such melodrama.

Scan is booked!

I wonder if they think I'm retarded or something. I mean, I call up with a simple question (Is this my scan appointment? Because there's nothing in the letter about a scan or the preparation you need to do for it) and in a slowly enunciated (and slightly bored) tone, the woman on the other end goes, "Yes, dear, that's your scan appointment." 

Well, thanks. You know, I've never had a scan here before, this could have been an entirely unrelated appointment because I'm on the RED pathway rather than amber or green, a little friendliness would have been nice? A separate little letter just saying "HAI! Here's a heads-up - you need to drink a small swimming pool before this appointment, ok?" would have been appreciated... but no. Slow sarkynurse instead.

But you know what? This is probably just the paranoia of pregnancy kicking in here, so I'll just let it slide.

12w scan will be at around 13w and is booked at the start of December. Hubby has time off for it, which is awesome. Still debating giving the wee man to his grandad for the day as there was (again) no advice about what to do with small people (and I know for a fact that most hospitals do not like other children attending in case there's bad news).

SCAN BABY, YEAH!

And then a month later, a private scan, so we will know the flavour :p

Thermal underwear...

It's not sexy. It's not cute. It might be necessary though, as it's getting colder and colder in the house and hey! There's not even any snow outside! The government wants you to keep your rooms at 18C, except for the lounge, which ought to be 21C. They're not in league with the energy firms who have just raised their prices for the winter AT ALL are they?! Unfortunately, as we are still renting we can't put into practice the measures that would save us money and help heat the house more effectively... but when we eventually get around to buying a place, it will be insulated, lagged, draught-proofed, the double glazing will have proper seals and there will be a cat flap somewhere so we don't have to keep opening the damn window; curtains will be lined, blinds will be thermal and blackout, radiators will have reflective backing on the walls... and hopefully the amount we save from putting those measures into place will allow me the luxury of a DISHWASHER!

Troll's first fireworks tonight. They were running late so he was super tired, cranky and wanted his milk, and eventually became overstimulated by the noise and lights and turned his head away from it all. I think that if they had run on time and maybe had been even half an hour earlier, then he would have had a better time of it. Wasn't helped by the fact he hadn't napped well today  - we knew he was going to be cranky anyway. He is still very disdainful of anything on his feet though so when we got him back home his little feet and leggies were all chilly cold :( will perhaps need some baby long-johns too. He's getting over the cold, at last, but I've got his pillow propped up by toys so the phlegm can drain away and not collect in his poor wee chest. Hopefully the hacking cough will have gone in a couple of days.

And the Minion? They're measuring about 2cm by now, mebbe a little bigger. I keep feeling a little popping sensation, which I'm sure is my uterus doing some kinda funky chicken dance because of its newest resident. Appetite is almost non-existent because of the feeling I might vomit at any time, even though I'm not actually throwing up. I can't hold my phone in my mouth without gagging, can't hold letters or anything between my teeth, it all leads to gagging. I'm no emetophobe but I'd rather not do it in public, thanks. And I'm always fricking COLD! Might need my SAD lamp back, so exhausted and run down and need all the help I can get.

That's all for now...