Lunar Eclipse

Eternal pink sunshine

2010-09-26T07:54:00.003+02:00

I am now mommy to two little girls. The second one, being of the impatient kind, was 2 months early. She couldn't help it, her amniotic home ruptured, so she had to skedaddle.

My baby girls have been a blessing. Life is busier now. And, I can't help but think this whole process was easier the 1st time around. But, now we have a big sister to entertain in addition to the little 'un. It's like being dragged in 4 different directions at once.

The new baby sleeps most of her days away. Other than that, she eats and poops. She bellows emphatically when hungry, uncomfortable, cold, or when bath time isn't what she expects.

The elder sister has taken well to the new alien. She is very protective of her little sister. She screeches if a stranger wants to touch her; she kisses her baby sister frequently and pats her on the head. Sometimes there are bouts of discontent when big sister wants to be in a lap occupied by baby sister, but luckily the hubby and I are adept at rotating siblings.

As for myself, my life remains the same. I am still on leave, to return a little less than 2 months from now. If it were up to me, I'd stay with my babies 24/7. But, alas, we must eat, and therefore I must work.

My cycle has been out of whack; I just hope I'm not preggers again. That would be... terrifying. after the emergency c-section and the trauma that went with that process, I don't think I'm ready for another roller coaster ride. And, won't be for some time to come.

I love my babies. They are beautiful. Life is great.

Update - my little girls

2010-04-19T15:09:00.003+02:00

My baby girl is the sweetest most loving thing in the world.

She hugs and kisses just about everyone. Even at the new creche (where she started on 1st Apr) she adapted quickly and just loves the other kids to pieces.

Last week, a little boy bit her on her cheek. The blue marks are still visible. This was the second biting incident. The only person she nibbles on, is me!

My little girl is always excited to see me or her daddy. She runs up and hugs and snuggles. She says dad-dee and Zat. Although she isn't one for talking much (too many language bubbling around her, I don't blame the little angel) she understands very well.

She understands take to daddy, da in the trashcan, da for mommy, press the button. She will go throw away trash in another room, if asked nicely, and she even knows to close the lid to the bin (which is more than i can say for her dad). She winks at you and sticks out her tongue. She loves to play peek-a-boo, hiding herself behind her little hands, or under a blanket.

She squeals with delight when mommy or daddy growls "caaaaatch the baaaayyybeeee!". And, generally runs in the direction of the other parent.

She loves bath time, but hates getting water in her eyes. On Saturday I introduced a wrung out washcloth to shield her eyes, and she accepted this with minimal screetching. Her hair goes curly when wet. It's really getting long now. The hair food works better than the de-tangling spray (glorified water, if you ask me) on her hair for combing out purposes. If she is distracted while said brushing of hair occurs, she is content to play by herself without yelping, as long as she gets to sit by her daddy.

My cutie pie has 3 pairs of shoes that currently fit her size 4 feet. She is 1 year and about 5 months. Her clothes are mostly age 4 - 5, but 24 months pants do fit her, depending on the cut. She is becoming more slender and muscular, less pudgy.

I am currently 19 weeks pregnant with her sister, Alexa Nthabiseng. I think I felt the first flurry of a kick when I was watching Carte Blanche last night. It's very faint, so I may or may not be mistaken. My maternity clothes fit well and I am feeling much better than in my 1st tri-mester when the nausea was almost more than I could bare. I do get headaches every now and then, but chase them away with Panado, the only drugs I'm allowed to take.

My hubby and I discussed discipline and the raising of our children yesterday. We don't have a fixed plan, we take it as it comes at us at this stage. We are both the nice parent and the mean parent, as things develop. I just know that I don't want to hit our babies. Both my husband and I recall getting beaten as kids and felt undeserving and resentful of such treatment. Also, it doesn't gel with me teaching violence as a measure of keeping control.

At this stage we are content to just ... be. Cutie pie is very helpful around the house. She often unpacks cupboards, wipes up surfaces she thinks requires wiping. She helped me in the garden yesterday afternoon, hacking away at weeds. She is interested in doing anything, if you let her. She is very adventurous and loves the outdoors. She doesn't like being cooped up in a house. She loves getting chased around, but sometimes she means to run faster than her legs can compute. Face, meet floor.

She also loves to type on either my husband's or my computer. She doesn't like watching tv so much. She always looks bored and more interested in other things around the house. She surprisingly (to me, anyway) does not love her toys as much as she loves to play with boxes, pens, highlighters, pans, pots, tissues, and a bunch of other everyday tools. especially eating utensils, tupperware and cups.

She loves playing with her ball and understands "skop" (kick) and "gooi" (throw), doing each action when called to do so. She thinks I'm hilarious when I kick the ball.

Cutie pie also loves music. She loves her baby piano/phone contraption we got her for xmas last year. she dances whenever she hears music on the tv or car. she claps her hands and attempts to snap her fingers. it's the cutest thing in the world.

She has a full mouth of teeth. And, her feet continue to look more and more like her dad's feet the older she gets. (poor kid!)

Cutie pie also loves her grandmothers, but are suspicious of her grandfathers. She is fearless around my mom and forgets about me when my parents are visiting/around. She goes with them and waves bye-bye to us, smile on face. She's very friendly, she waves hello and bye to EVERYbody, people passing by, people in the mall, people at the creche, people driving by. She always has a smile for everyone. And, even if her hands are occupied, she waves them, smiling all the while.

Her next set of shots are due for sometime in June. And, I always dread it, despite that she is always such a little soldier. She barely cries, but I still feel awful for her. But, rather this than her legs falling off from polio. or, worse.

Our little girl is active till the lights go out, when she snuggles up against us and goes to sleep. Some night, my hubby takes her for a drive in the car, and she falls asleep that way.

She hasn't warmed up to the people at the gym who take care of her, but that's her dad's and my fault. We don't go there nearly enough for the people not to be complete strangers to her. We plan to correct that in future. In the meantime, I hope my little angel is in a good mood this afternoon.

Our babies are perfect. Life is wonderful.

Teh per soot of happyness

2009-11-18T14:04:00.000+02:00

It’s a blackend filthy catastrophy, this academic thing I need to get handled now. It’s been years and years, I really need to get a handle on it now.

So, in précis, here is my action plan for the upcoming board exam – 70 days and counting, ladies and germs.

I have signed up for the prestigious board course; hopefully for the last time. There is a written test about 3 weeks from now. In preparation for this test, I will complete the 2009 board exam and the 2008 board course mock exam. In preparation for the classes starting 10 or so days from now, I will skim through the board course file and theory.

Then, in preparation for the actual board exam, I plan to follow the board course timetable to the letter. I will study through the night if I have to, but I will get it done.

In addition, I have joined the gym close by and have approached all the grand parentals regarding baby watching over the festive season. They have agreed, which opens up my schedule a bit, especially since the crèche closes in 3 weeks.

My cup runneth over with to-do lists and quotes, notes and other rubbish. There is much to do and less time to do it in. I think I will put off Nanowrimo till next year. Who knows, I may even have a success story to tell by then. I can only hope, pray and study.

*sigh*

A pernicious pursuit

2009-10-12T13:43:00.002+02:00

It has finally arrived!

Much has been happening of late. Time is running out for the academix. The baby is crawling zealously and has a mind of her own. She is sweet and strong willed. Basically, she wants what she wants when she wants it. And, hell hath no fury like my little girl scorned!

This is my final week on this away from home audit. It is also the source of my joy. As it turns out, absence makes the heart grow fonder, ache, beat rapidly and causes heart attacks. I can’t wait to get home this weekend. It is going to be lovely to home again, and mistress of all that I survey.

And, in other news, I have yet to pay the board for them to allow me to write their exam in January. I also have yet to pay those who present the course. I have decided that I intend to pass. Now, it’s just the small matter of mastering the content. I may require some assistance. But, all shall be revealed in time, I’m sure.

Have I mentioned that I can’t wait to get out of here?

I had a dream the other night. I had a baby girl. And, she was of a more chocolatey complexion than our current little one. In my dream, we had named her Noko. Apparently, there is no such name, I googled it. (Well, not in Sesotho anyway) Ah well.

Rhetoric rhymes

2009-10-09T00:20:00.000+02:00

As predicted by yours truly, the weeks away from home have merged to form some gelatinous oddity of unknown origin. Labour is lame and I miss the offspring and the soul mate.

Some good and bad things have come to pass on this journey. First, the bad. I hit something in the road a couple weeks back, effectively puncturing my gas tank and costing me a boatload of cash I didn’t have in the first place to fix.

The good, I have met a few friendly faces and life is just a succession of hundreds of blessings throwing themselves at me, kamikaze style.

I am eager to reunite with my little family and attend to my household. I’m planning another meal. Hopefully my culinary skills have bettered themselves during my absence.

Another day has come to a close, and I find myself alone.

Just a few more hours and I will no longer be alone; uninspired by my own company.

salvation is free

2009-09-09T20:05:00.001+02:00

I am away from home. Work takes me from my family and humble abode. The idea was that I was supposed to do some studying. That’s not really happening. Time is of the essence.

The job is the same as ever.

I miss my baby and my husband terribly, tremendously.

The weeks will merge eventually.

Count on it.

Outside the wind howls around the mountains.

Of sugar and spice

2009-08-14T15:10:00.001+02:00

My melee campaign in the barren wasteland of my kitchen produced yet another victory last night.

Feelings of guilt and gratitude (go figure) inspired me to plan a surprise for my over-worked hubby yesterday. I recall him asking me to bake him a chocolate cake a couple weeks back and me blatantly refusing him. (I was at home already, and baking a cake would mean going out to shop for the ingredients. I was tired, okay. Don’t judge me.)

So, into my little car I hopped after work, I went to get the spawnling, and off to the market we rode, in the crimson twilight. Purchases in hand, I set a course for the kitchen and deigned to cook a meal (oven-bake fish and chips; with a side of gem squash) and bake the envisioned cake.

The kid was comfortable enough on the floor for a while. I had bought her new shoes (pink ones) and she was intently attempting to get her teeth into them, attached to her feet as they were. Regardless, she allowed me to get the food into the oven, and start mixing the batter. All went well. Hubby was home earlier than expected, so he was able to feed the kid when she started wailing for her din-dins.

I’d forgotten to add the baking powder, but the self-raising flour mitigated that oversight. The shop had no caramel, so I substituted condensed milk and cherries for decoration.

Dinner was a success.

I plan to one day have a dining room. There will be table settings, runners, tablecloths, napkins. My hopes and dreams are simple ones. I wonder if I’ll be able to incorporate the colours of my wedding: wine red and gold. Maybe some oranges and browns to bring in those warm tones…

Tonight’s meal remains a mystery.

home schooling blues

2009-08-12T15:07:00.001+02:00

I need a chair for my desk at home.

At this stage it looks like my studies have come to an abrupt halt because I am now fully planned at the office with actual work. What a bummer!

At home, there is the problem of not having a chair for my desk, so I never sit down and study.

When I do scrapbooking, I sit on the floor, because I need a lot of space. We have 2 desks, but no chairs for them. And the sofas are just too low.

As things stand now (ha-ha), until we spend some money (we don’t have) on some decent PC type chairs, I won’t hit the books again. And, that would be a tragedy.

And, no, the patio chairs we borrowed from his parentals are not adequate. Not only are they too hard, they are also too low and restrictive. No amount of pillows can fix this. I need comfort for the academic process to initialise!

In other news, the baby has taken to loudly declaring “babababa” and “dadadada”. She also indulges in yanking hair and jiggling keys – loudly. On hard surfaces for maximum effect. She is cute as a button though.

Today (and yesterday) I have lower epidural area back pain. This started when I carried the kid around at the mall yesterday. I thought my back would break. It’s not her fault that I am weak. But, I’m in some real pain today. It’s not fun. I had similar epidural ache for about 3 to 4 months after I popped the kid. It’s just a little eerie.

As I have mentioned, at work I am engaged in various projects; nothing too harrowing at present. I’m in a comfortable little niche at work. I know the people and their abilities; I know who’s work needs to be triple-checked and who’s doesn’t. Management is nice to me. Even more so ever since I passed my CISA exam – finally!

Financially we are still in the crapper.

I am happy. It doesn’t make for great writing.

No turning back

2009-07-31T10:58:00.000+02:00

Morpheus stole the slumber from my eyes at the wee hours of this morning.

At my request, my cell phone blinked the time at me: 03h30.

I can only hazard a guess at the cause of this disturbance in my sleeping pattern.

Over the past 2 weeks I have been obsessing and pouring over my text books of olde. I have been attempting (and failing) questions. This is all in preparation for the board exam which has successfully evaded me over the past few years.

My dad has agreed to finance me once more – but, repayment has been deferred at this stage, to some unknown future time.

Wealth flows from only inspiration or desperation...

My baby is officially 8 months old, as of 2 days ago. She has a full head of hair, two tiny teeth, and is in the habit of repeating the sounds the hubby and I make, but without meaning. Her little pudgy hands just wanna touch everything. Sometimes she reaches too far, and topples. Like, this morning. Luckily, she doesn’t cry easily or for nothing. She was okay. This morning she smiled at a random lady in a shop. She has always been very friendly, which is very cute.

Crawling still evades her. But, she is getting there. She has been doing push-ups for 2 months, now. She also launches herself at things she wants. She loves that DStv remote. And, cell phones. She just can’t get enough of the taste of electronics, I suppose.

I have 6 months till I write, things are becoming real now. The registration process is underway. R3,000 for the exam. Not good.

Oh, damn you, Accounting, and your trixie ways! Thou baine of mine existence!

Plagued by infirmity

2009-07-24T10:00:00.002+02:00

My nose insists on leaking. This is a relatively new development. I am running low on tissues. On the upside, the pills my husband gave me to swallow alleviated the annoyance entirely so I could slumber peacefully last night.

It seems the kid infected me with this illness, and I may have infected her right back. She had the same thing last week, it went away, and this morning it made its loathsome reappearance on her innocent face.

Our little family have been sick on and off, and all at once at times, over the past couple of months. The medical aid is exhausted in its entirety. It’s all rather infuriating.

I was sort of hoping the winter would kiss us goodbye. This morning, however, the clingy bastard had us in yet another icy bear hug. My car was once again frozen over, which ensured my tardiness to work this morning.

I’d thought the season had turned. Not yet, it seems.

In the meantime this so-called “swine flu” is sweeping the globe. A bunch of people have died from it, and a bunch of people have been newly infected by it. Well, I don’t have any flu symptoms, so I suppose I’m okay.

I just want it to not be so cold outside anymore. The office is just freezing. I don’t think there is a heater at all. I’m freezing as I type this. This morning, my hands were so cold on the steering wheel of my car, they were burning. My hands were frigid, frozen and some unnatural colour tainted my poor appendages.

The weekend promises to be a pleasantly uneventful one. I plan to spend most of it in bed with a good book. And, if I’m lucky, maybe my family will join me. A girl can hope, can’t she?

Influx

2009-07-23T10:30:00.001+02:00

Just between us, I’m feeling a bit frustrated today.

I think I should have been or must have been a guy in my previous life. I’m less about listening compassionately about other people’s problems, and more about solving them.

That said, I think it’s no secret that the DH (darling husband) and I are in a bit of a financial bind. We have compiled our respective and combined budgets, we have compared figures, and we have come to conclusions. Our cashflow remains negative. And, not a little negative, a lot.

Now, if with every paycheque you get, you become poorer, that’s not an ideal situation. In fact, every month that our expenses exceed our income, means we are that much poorer. This is not sustainable behaviour. At some point, we are going to run out of assets. Our shares are dwindling as is.

It’s rather a bit of a no-brainer that getting the ole budget to balance means either decreasing expenditure, or increasing income.

It has been an uphill battle to find more lucrative jobs in the current economic downturn. (Can you really tell me no one needs someone with a BComm.?? Really???) Not even the government has anything available. I have been to websites and called recruitment agencies. Nothing.

I’m in the process of applying for extra work, part time. I also put the word out at the office (2 months ago) that I’ll take secondment jobs for the claims. It’s gonna suck, but it will be worth it. I have also made a new commitment to myself for passing the board exam next year. Surely, more qualifications will mean more lucrative opportunities.

There needs to be a place in the middle where our wants and dreams meet our financial prowess. I understand that. We want to have another baby soon. We want a bigger house. We want to… well, I want to go to Europe before I’m 30 for a 2 week tour of the museums. We need to be able to pay the mortgage. We need food for the kid and to save for the medical bills associated with a next kid.

The source of my slight irritation is … (I hate to say it) the DH.

Our situation is pretty dire, which he does not fully recognize. He doesn’t want to apply for every possible job, only the ones that interest him. (What, am I an auditor because I find it fascinating? NO.) He delays meetings and doesn’t make appointments. He doesn’t make the calls. He procrastinates. He is not interested in part time work. He doesn’t follow up on part time work.

From his behaviour, am I to assess that the situation is not as dire as the budgets show?

He doesn’t budget conservatively. I can’t go to Europe if saving for Europe is not in the budget. And, I can’t have another kid, if projected crèche costs are not included in the budget. A budget can’t not have some money over for incidental costs.

And, if the situation is thus, that we have to redistribute our expenses between each other, and I therefore have to make more money to make my wants happen, then I want to know. I want honesty.

He wants to move. Has he researched what this involves; the costs in moving? Neither of us has found a job in the big city. And we can’t move if only one of us has a job there. And the point is, we haven’t found anything; neither he nor I. It’s frustrating.

If we are not able to move in the next 2 months (which is the average time it takes to do so, once you’ve got the job), shouldn’t we adjust our spending? There are things we can do to break even. But, we don’t.

Now I look like the hypocrite because I had my hair done last week.

And, don’t tell me not to worry about the finances. Nothing irritates me more. It’s the “let’s just go on like nothing’s wrong” attitude that just grinds me and that gets people into a heap of debt and trouble. I’m financially literate, dammit. This is fixable.

I have a bunch of goals, and I don’t want to have to compromise them because we can’t manage our finances. And, I don’t want to be spending money we can’t afford to, because my expenses are covered, but my husband’s aren’t.

Yeah, you heard me. My expenses are covered. I’m getting extra work because WE aren’t breaking even. I suggested a redistribution of expenses, but was told not to worry. I don’t agree with this sort of leadership, if it can be called that at all.

He really wants to move, though. *sigh*

The throes of academic pursuit

2009-07-21T12:54:00.001+02:00

And so, my fellow bloggers, thus began the arduous journey of my ascent to the next level of mad auditor skillz.

To what am I referring?

Well, as you may or may not know, I (still) have ne’er but the board exam standing between me and academic, nay financial freedom.

The catalyst was of course when I was informed that I would be on away audit for 3 months. This, as it presents itself, is the perfect opportunity for me to “get my learn on”. The responsibilities at home are far too numerous and exhausting to enable a learning environment.

In any case, I did some planning last week, and now, I am studying towards Board One.

It’s a slow process. When I try to do practical questions, I feel so moronic that I must refer back to the theory. When I study only theory, I get so bored, I feel that I must do some questions to drive home the principles. What a conundrum!

Regardless, my new motto is to “Just Keep Going”. Therein lies the secret of success, I think. In previous years I may have given up too soon. This is the year I plan to correct my prior erroneous behaviour.

Also, this is the final curtain call. I will sacrifice and give it my all. For, after this ride on the merry-go-round, there will be no more.

Wish me luck and keep me in your prayers. This is not an easy course in the least.

Introspection

2009-07-14T13:37:00.007+02:00

The studying process officially commenced yesterday.

And, already I am questioning my sanity.

The bain of my existence, nay, my achilles' heel is Financial Accounting. And, it is this heathen monster I will attempt to tame, or at least house-break, over the next 3 months.

Somehow and somewhere in my hectic schedule, I need to find time for gym as well. My ample gluteus maximus is more maximus than gluteus, if you know what I mean. So, I don't know, but I think the best solution will be to fetch the baby, then go to gym, taking her with me.

As clingy as I am, I suppose if I see my husband an hour later every day, it won't kill me. At least, that's what I'm hoping. I notice how we have started going to sleep later and later every day. There is much to do in a household, you know. Dishes, laundry, cleaning, baby washing and packing for, bed making, ad nauseum.

My parents suggested that they could take the baby for a week at a time during the exam time. Although our first instinct is to yell "Hell no!", this idea has merit. So, we are considering this solution. Both myself and the hubby have exams to study for, and we both write in January of next year. It's gonna be rough.

We have divided the days of the week and the chores that go with it. Will see how this unfolds. So far so good. I just don't think it is a sustainable plan.

I'm just tired of the subject matter, I really am.

But, my dad made me an offer I can't refuse: a 2 week trip to Europe for my whole family on completion of the chartered accountant qualification. (Point 9 and 10 of "Things I wanna do before oblivion strikes" refer. See sidebar)

That's my motivation and I'm sticking to it.

An aggregated mind aggravated

2009-06-29T07:49:00.000+02:00

(this post is about a month old. In the meantime, I feel better now)

I had a pretty hectic internal deadline today. I am currently struggling with some math formulas and various variances and it’s all just a little infuriating. I hate it when numbers refuse to add up for no apparent reason. It’s time to equip my detective hat and matching Sherlock pipe.

There is a popcorn kernel stuck in my teeth.

My job appears more dead-end every day. Fantasies and legends of more money and greener grass on the other side abound. Today I toyed with a recruitment website. It dawned on me fairly early on that me finding suitable employment elsewhere would be pointless if it’s not in close proximity to that of the spouse. Irritated, I abandoned that quest.

My house is not nearly as clean as I’d like it to be.

The exam I wrote on Saturday is a “no comment” sort of event. It wasn’t so devastating, nor was it a light summer breeze on a warm day. I have a glimmer of hope, but not much thereof. Of the 800 possible answers I memorised, only 1 appeared; the first question. And, I couldn’t remember the answer. That figures.

My qualifications are stagnating; there is no growth.

Is it too early in my life for me to be experiencing a mid life crisis? I don’t know. There is a clear lack of progress in my life. There is only stagnation. Every month I get broker, with the rumours of more money elsewhere ubiquitous. Locating such lucrative employment is another story entirely.

I remain fat.

At what point in my life should I be chasing contentment and joy in my career, if at all? Is this reserved for a select few? Is it only for the few financially free? Is generating income from elsewhere the only key to happiness? That cannot be. My qualifications and experience remain insufficient for the lifestyle I lead.

I’m broke.

I’m tired of feeling dumb. I’m tired of being a liability. I’m so very tired of wasting away my life. I don’t even know if not working would solve all my issues. I realise the only person in my life that can give me happiness, is me. I realise bitching has no positive function. I realise I’m wasting my time and therefore my life.

Maybe volunteer work is the answer: Art teacher for pre-schoolers? Perhaps.

By request

2009-06-11T10:19:00.001+02:00

The watered down effect

2009-06-05T15:46:00.000+02:00

The watered down effect

I’m back in the audit game (admittedly, not as awesome and prolific as the medical game, or … any other profession really). The work is rather a bit yawn, but this time around the client staff is courteous and friendly. Having things in common, like having spawned some rugrats, comes in handy.

Now that working conditions are ideal, I realise that the house wife thing may not be as overrated as I first imagined. I enjoyed the 4 months at home, and it’s not just about lazing about at home. It’s about seeing my kid grow up and progress. It’s about having a clean environment to live in. And it’s about knowing where we left our keys, and where the kid’s bottles are. (My husband has this habit of just putting the bottle lids down wherever. This makes for frantic mornings before work.)

When I was at home, I also had time to work on my hobbies, like painting and scrapbooking. The baby would sleep either in the morning or the afternoon. But, there was usually a 3 hour period I could do whatever. And, when I was doing laundry, I would carry her around with me in her sling.

As an aside – the water bill was damn near R200 per month in the months when I was doing our laundry at home. Now that this function has been outsourced to my husband’s mom’s maid, the water bill is something ridiculous, like R20. You can’t beat those prices.

So, more pregnancy related news – apparently, the depo shot I had done just after having the kid is still wreaking havoc. This is a contraceptive sort of shot. You only need to take it once every 3 months or something like that. Now, I only had the shot done once. As it turns out, not only does the depo shot make you fat, but it also makes you leak forever. Doctor says I should give it 2 more months before I go to been seen again. Also – you are not ovulating while you are leaking. So, I am therefore sterile for now. The hubby and I had decided to get on with having the 2nd kid, but I suppose that will have to wait now. Stupid Depo shot.

And in other news, the financial burden remains heavy, but we will find a way.

The twits on twitter

2009-05-15T07:57:00.002+02:00

Finally, it's almost weekend. I am another week closer to the exam, and long weekend which follows. It will also be my 1 year wedding anniversary. Time sure is tricksy.

My baby and I have become sick. Some sort of cold. Her nose is stuffed, so she can't breathe so well. The creche has been on my case, the doctor has no openings for an appointment. So, the baby was at her grandmother's house yesterday and will be today. I wanna take her back to the creche on Monday though. So, hopefully we'll find a doctor willing to see her today or over the weekend. My poor lil girl.

The point of this post was just to alert anyone who happens to read here; the decrease in post frequency is because of twitter. I've been posting there. Look for me, name of morbidneko. twitter

The eleventh hour

2009-05-07T12:05:00.001+02:00

Time ticks away the days left till I write that very expensive cisa exam. A quick online search revealed that there are 25 more and therefore new questions available in this year’s study material than what I have. 25 questions make up 17,5% of the exam. That could be the difference between a pass and a fail. At this stage of the game, I average a 83% accuracy rate when I do the questions I have. I have 4 of 6 chapters to work through.

There are 5 weeks left till I write the exam. I have one day study leave, the day before the test. My palms get sweaty and my heart starts its race when I think of it. I don’t know how I’m going to repay my dad the registration amount for this exam. It’s a lot of money to lose if I were to fail. There’s a lot riding on this 2 hour exam.

As soon as studies conclude for the cisa qualification, I intend to give QE another shot. (Although, if I were to become impregnated in this time, I will probably pop on the day of the QE exam, with my luck) Wouldn’t that be just marvellous?

I am also considering doing only the board course for next year’s QE exam. I didn’t get to use my pre-board stuff last year, on account of me not writing the exam. My husband is also studying. His course is even more expensive than mine; twice over, really. We are struggling financially to say the least. I’m hoping all this sacrifice will bear fruit in the end. Life goes on, and waits for no lemming.

I’m hungry. Wonder what I’ll get myself for lunch…

Mini holiday

2009-04-24T14:03:00.000+02:00

My baby’s school is closed for the next couple days. I finally got my leave approved after a very arduous process of running from senior to senior and telling my sob story. Nothing like tenacity to get you where you need to be. Mwohahaha.

I don’t have any specific plans for my little mini holiday. Will probably do a bit of scrapbooking. Maybe a bit of cleaning and cooking. But, that’s a huge maybe. I might play some pc games. Who knows. The sky is the limit, really.

Utopia can be defined as a mini holiday for me and the hubby simultaneously. Alas, this is not the case. It’s just me and the babbie then, I guess. And maybe a visit or two to the local gym. Another huge maybe.

RE: the Elections 2009

2009-04-23T10:14:00.003+02:00

There is weird hoo-do ink on my left thumb, imported from India (supposedly), clinging to my skin for dear life. Yes, I voted yesterday, with a couple million other people. I just wish I'd known of the free coffee Wimpy was offering.

It's rather dismaying that the family party isn't doing as well as I expected. On the other paw, counting isn't done yet. A further embarrassment is that my original home province seems to have a 100% vote for the opposition party. Very embarrassing indeed.

I never voted before, feeling rather apathetic about the whole affair. So, yesterday's activities were sort of special and ... unexpectedly fun. The queue wasn't too long, I suppose we waited 30mins. The people in line were jovial, friendly. It was an all round good experience. And, I will probably vote again. Props to the organisers in my neck of the woods.

Another surprise is that you actually vote twice: One ballot paper for national and one for provincial. It was unexpected. I, as an ignorant young-ish person, was not aware of this. But, it's kewl. Took me about 3 seconds to vote. Point and tick, ladies and gents.

I applaud all the people who took the time and effort to vote. The important thing as that this hard-fought for right is utilised and not taken for granted. Who people voted for is between them and their conscience.

Hopefully the country won't go to the sh*tter between now and the next election. Maybe next time, a bigger difference / upset can be made.

I wonder when this ink is gonna come off. It's messing with my manicure.

Jung personality test - I AM... The Mastermind

2009-04-23T10:11:00.003+02:00

Did this test here: http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes2.asp

The Mastermind (INTJ) is very focused as well, but more on an internal vision. They are good at solving problems and like to work on tough intellectual puzzles. They are often led into technical positions such as scientific researcher, design engineer, environmental planner. The developing field of genetics benefits from their intensity as does the field of medicine. In education they are most often found at the college and university level. In the professions, they may be a lawyer, a business analyst, or strategic planner. Some have a strong artistic/creative bent and may become an artist, inventor, or designer. Whatever they do, they do it with intensity. Says Kim, "I am constantly teaching myself something new in order to solve the problems that I encounter. My husband leaves me alone when he sees that I am caught in what he calls my "Thinking Time." I'm unwinding knots even in my sleep."

A little note

2009-04-09T14:43:00.000+02:00

Happy Easter, Everyone!

Reverse clothe-ology

2009-04-08T14:36:00.001+02:00

It seems this pregnancy thing is cyclical. Today for the first time, I have squeezed myself into a size 10 pair of pants that used to be very roomie when I was an actual size 10. Necessity is the mother of invention, as you see- I was out of work clothes this morning. The laundry service is a bit… bumpy.

When I first got pregnant, I was constantly upgrading to bigger sized clothes. Now, it seems, that I am able to downgrade a bit as my body parts deflate with time. I look forward to the day when I can proclaim honestly that I am once again a 10. I miss my awesome wardrobe.

I am very much looking forward to the coming weekend. As I may have mentioned, I haven’t been home in ages. I hope my friends who are coming to my bash don’t get bored and think it sucks. Hopefully the group will mesh and have a really great time.

I just wish I still had some shorts. In my size. I have some great size 10 shorts I can’t wait to fit into again.

Of Erudite Iniquity

2009-04-07T14:13:00.001+02:00

My brilliantly e-vol master plan for the weekend involves much festivity and fun. I will be yet another year closer to my demise, another year closer to the silvery hairs of wisdom and another year senior.

I’m going home – to my parents’ house – for the Easter (Wild Crazy Vegetarian Super Fun Braai and Party Birthday Party) weekend.

I suppose it’s time to take stock of the year that has passed. What a year it has been.

Let us begin with last year this time. I had just attended the Coke fest a week or so ago. I was dating this hot guy, who is now my husband. My articles were about to get signed off. I was living with my parents and seeing my boyfriend every other weekend. Life was fairly good.

Last year in May, I was on audit in Potch – varsity audit. I had gained 3 kilograms and skipped a leakage. One blood test later, and it turns out I’m pregnant!

Fast forward to June and it’s my wedding. The bride looked beautiful in white and … well, white. We said our I do’s in my husband’s home town, and skipped off for a 2 day honeymoon just outside Kimberley.

Two weeks later at the end of June, just after my articles got signed off, I packed my little car with all my worldly goods, and headed to my mother-in-law's house. And, there the husband and I lived harmoniously for 6 months.

Last year, at the end of November, what I thought was false labour turned out to be my little girl popping out to say high. Literally! She was 2 weeks early and simply gorgeous.

January we signed for our first home – a town house on the other side of town.

Middle March of this year, I’m back at work and baby is at day care.

I would have to concede that my 25th year was the most pivotal, influential, changing year of my life – so far. I became a wife, mommy, co-home owner and shrugged of the trainee designation all in one year.

Friends and neighbours, it is with certainty and much gratitude that I can tell you: I have never been happier.

The best is yet to come.

Time to get fit

2009-04-01T13:43:00.000+02:00

Read an interesting blog entry today. According to the writer, the cure for unfortunate looks is to be fit. Less than flattering attributes are shadowed when lean muscle tone and clear gorgeous skin take the limelight.

This has set me thinking. I remember a brief period in my past when I was fit. My clothes fit better. And we all know that when your clothes fit better, you feel more confident, and therefore act more confident. Also, the nicer clothes are available at smaller sizes.

Fitness also makes your body produce the feel good hormones. I think it’s called dopamine, but I could be mistaken (and am too lazy to look it up now). So, not only are you looking good in well fitting duds, but you also feel good and confident.

Then there are also the health benefits. Cancer and heart disease I suppose will have a tough time attacking a healthy body. Exercise increases circulation of blood through the body and more oxygen gets to the necessary parts.

The point I’m trying to make is – if what I read is true and fitness is a portal to good looks… I may have to give the gym another better chance…

Now I just have to work it into my schedule somehow…

And justice for all

2009-03-30T11:43:00.000+02:00

So, this past weekend was spent doing nothing much. Indeed – a perfect weekend if there ever was one. Yesterday was occupied by cleaning the house from top to bottom. Purged it now stands; clean and welcoming. This makes me happy.

And as we all know: a happy wife tends to lead to a happy life for my hubby.

The rugby went well, but was upsetting. I only had one game wrong this weekend. But, it was my powerplay, so it cost me 2 points. Stupid Bulls.

The husband and I have been summoned to a funeral this weekend. I wonder how prevalent this is going to become in this marriage. I rather like family gatherings, it’s always good to see the old faces again. But, when it’s not my family, it tends to be a tedious time. I have made the sleeping arrangements and everything. Should be an interesting weekend.

The finances are still a bit whack currently. Am working on ‘em.

No studies happened this weekend. It was family time. And a wonderful time was had by all.

My baby girl is now 4 months old. She is now eligible for some cereal at night. But, a max of 2 teaspoons was allowed.

I still have a problem with the leave system. I can’t believe that I have to take annual leave if my kid gets sick, or has to go for shots, etc etc. I just don’t have enough. On the plus side – I have some stacked up from last year. There just seems to be some confusion on exactly how much is available. Did you know that annual leave does not accumulate while you are on maternity leave? I didn’t.

The news these days is very depressing. This morning alone I read about taxi violence, people stealing houses, political fraudsters coming off scot free. It’s very disheartening. I don’t like what JZ is doing, I think he should be prosecuted. Those far more eloquent than I, have said similar things on the news24 website. I wonder where this country is heading. Will there be justice for anyone in a one party democracy?

sigh

2009-03-25T07:55:00.001+02:00

I’ve done maybe 2 or 3 hours of studying over a two week period. It’s worrying that I don’t feel like I’ve learned anything. I did a mock exam, did well, got 98%. Still don’t feel like I’ve really memorised anything. I have this feeling of impending doom if I don’t study the theory as well. Rote memorisation of questions is not the way to go in this instance.

I have this inability to study over weekends. This behaviour was cultivated from the very beginning of my academic career, when I was five. I’m a staunch believer in getting work done during the week (or, late Sunday nights, if it can’t be helped).

Today I feel lousy. I wish I could have just stayed at home with my baby and my husband. There is no time anymore. Every night is the same. Getting home, I pass out. It’s not even fair.

Anyway, just thought I’d bitch a bit. I’m worried about my studies. Studying during working hours is not a sustainable plan. And, I don’t get study leave. What a rip off.

Walking on sunshine

2009-03-23T09:09:00.002+02:00

Unbeknownst to me, as I was watching the husband play rugby last Saturday, I acquired some form of heatstroke. Or, sunstroke. Or, something.

I was fine all day Saturday, sitting in the shade for the half hour of warming up they did, and then the ensuing 80 minute game with 10 minute remission at half time. I even had a soft drink to keep me busy. We went home after the game – they had won 33-3. And, I felt fine, if a tad tired.

Sunday morning I woke up with the world’s worst headache. I was sensitive to light and sound. My body was sore all over, my skin on my face and lips was tight. I felt horrible. So, the husband found me some pills I could take while boobie-feeding. He brought me some water. I then swallowed the pills and promptly went back to sleep, duvet over my feverish head.

I eventually woke up at 10am again, feeling a million times better, if a bit sunburnt. I was a bit surprised, as I spent all that time in the shade. But, I’m not overly shocked, as I know that UV rays will get you wherever you are. I should’ve been smart about it, and put some sunscreen on. Lesson learnt.

On another note, my exam registration went through, so it looks like I will be writing in June. Somehow I forgot to study over the weekend. I had such high hopes for myself. So, I have to redouble my efforts this week. Hopefully I will get some good study hours in this week. If I can just study and revise 20 pages of the study guide per week, I will have more than enough time to absorb all the material.

I also have to go to gym every day this week, at the risk of losing the rebate my medical aid pays to the gym, if I don’t. I am not happy about this. I feel like the R350 I'm shelling out for gym membership is going to waste. The internal struggle continues as I grapple with the “should I, shouldn’t I?” as far as cancelling my membership is concerned.

Everybody who knows me, and wants to come to my birthday braai at my parents’ house – you are all welcome. If you need a place to snooze, please lemme know at your earliest convenience. It’s happening over a long weekend – easter. Give me a call and lemme know. I plan to bring Scrabble, Pictionary and 30 seconds. Yes, I’m a big nerd.

I’m getting used to the heels. I find starting out with small heels and then upgrading to longer ones, tends to ease the process. Also, not running up and down the stairs and corridors also helps.

My heatstroke remains with me only in the tightness in my face. Otherwise, life is still good.

Have a great day, blogmune!

Torture of a podiatary kinde

2009-03-20T10:47:00.002+02:00

Today is the last work day of the first week after my maternity leave. So far, the most difficult thing to get used to has been these stupid high heel shoes. My feet ache and complain 2 hours into the work day. I am not used to this. Whoever created and instituted the high heel shoe for professional women, was just plain sadistic.

I look at the men’s shoes longingly. They are flat, have rubber soles. They speak of comfort. Wish I could get away with wearing guy shoes at work. I’ve always wanted a job where I could wear jeans and skateboarder shoes every day. I think I should’ve gone into the journalism line in the end. Pity that I moved around so much as a kid. Couldn’t settle down and join the school newspaper. Most schools don’t have em.

I was 10 minutes late this morning. I’d like to take this time and blame my wonderful husband for not kicking me out of bed when I was supposed to get up. The top brass here at the office had deigned me worthy for “flexi-hours”. But, I’m on probation for the next 6 months, as HR informed me this morning. So, we’ll see how it goes. It works well for me, coz I have to drop and fetch my baby at daycare.

It was sort of weird driving past the office this morning, on the way to daycare… I was thinking to myself that if I didn’t have to drop the kid, I would have been on time. Also, if the day care was on the way to work, I would have been on time as well. Instead, I drive past the office every morning, and then drive back. Don’t get me wrong though, it’s worth it. The baby is well taken care of in the BEST day care (and most expensive) I could find.

I have a grand total of 5 work outfits. The new pants I bought is dragging on the floor today. I forgot to put a seam in last night. It’s the weirdest thing – I get home, hang with the baby; feed her. We have dinner. Then, I just pass out. I’m suddenly so tired that I need to just lie down. I then immediately fall asleep and we rinse and repeat for the next morning.

This morning, as I drove past the mall, a deep longing seized me. If only I could go to the really expensive hairdressers again. My spending habits had to change after the conception of my bundle of joy. And, I’d rather have her than awesome hair. It’s just that, sometimes I miss the perks that came with money. So, the plan is to study further, and stick it out in this job till my contract comes to an end (next year). Then, I will look for a better paying job.

I’ve always been really good at going for interviews. It’s also strange. I plan an outfit, do my hair nice, put on some make-up, etc, when i have an interview. My vocabulary (and CV) is very good, and I use it to full effect when speaking to prospective bosses. But, the crazy thing is, I can’t be bothered to do all that for daily work. I wish I could work in a place that’s les… serious and full of deadlines.

I’m happy at my current office, don’t get me wrong. But, if I could fantasise about the perfect job for me, it would be as I said above – jeans every day. No or few deadlines. Hi tech, where everyone at least had a nodding acquaintance with Twitter, for crying out loud. Friendly people. Very little pressure.

I don’t know.

I wonder which line of business would have suited me better. Journo-ism is full of deadlines. But, if it were a job I’m good at and where I know what I’m doing, I wouldn’t mind having a deadline to do it in, as long as it’s reasonable.

Child care? Who would have me?

My master plan is to try applying for work with the government if all else fails. They are always hiring as far as I know. I just wanna get out of the audit game at some point. It’s rather repetitive. And feels like a lot of stress all for nothing.

I was hoping my body would go back to it’s pre-pregnancy shape, but it seems not. I am now 2 pants sizes bigger than I was last year. Hopefully things will fall into place in time.

I knew I should have packed some food for today… I’m hungry. Gonna see what I can forage.

A fresh approach

2009-03-18T14:24:00.000+02:00

I’m back at work, and it’s almost like I was never away. From day one responsibility and deadlines are thrust upon me. But, hey, that’s what pays the bills.

My little baby is at daycare. I take her there every morning before work and fetch her after. I chose the most efficient, friendly and clean place I could find. The babies are well taken care of, with 2 babies per caretaker. It was also the most expensive place, but when it’s about your baby’s safety and security, no price is too high. The experience and qualifications of the ladies at the daycare was also a bonus.

My husband is doing his honours degree part time, working full time and he plays rugby. He gets the baby ready every morning, while I get myself ready. Chores are on a first come first served basis. We wash clothes and dishes and clean every now and then. This is turning out to take a lot of getting used to.

Sometimes I cook. It’s not frequent or gourmet, or anything, but I do try.

My baby seems to be growing like she gets fertilizer dumped on her at daycare. I miss her a lot during the day. Dropping her off every morning is heartbreaking, but I’m getting better at it. She usually just sleeps or giggles and smiles when she gets dropped off. I hope this will continue as she becomes more aware. She is a good baby.

Last night at 9pm she woke up after a 3 hour nap, she wanted play time. So, her daddy and I took turns having her on our laps. We even did some scrapbooking. I want to document her growth as closely as possible. She is growing with much speed.

I have decided to write the CISA exam in June of this year. Husband and I did some studying last night while the baby slept. I have a lot of work ahead of me.

There’s something about the environment here at the office. It’s very… I don’t know – it’s like the climate here is very competitive, but friendly and helpful. Everyone wants to learn and succeed. There are many successful people here at the office. I am having third thoughts about my second thought on writing my board exam again. I already had a lady offer me her notes for QE 1.

I’m blown away by how the people around you can influence you. I think this is a major component of why my prior job was less than fun. Everyone there was frazzled and tired and over-worked. The negativity has a way of rubbing off on co-workers.

My original point was that I have created a study plan for the year and I think it is attainable. The result of this CISA exam will set the tone for the QE exam, I think. Methinks I want some letters behind my name.

These days, my baby giggles and sings. She enjoys trying to stand. She likes sitting and watching television. Sometimes she topples herself while sitting. Next thing you know, her face is in the cushions and she’s on her stomach.

She has a pronounced dimple on her right cheek. It’s adorable. She still has eyes of deepest ebony. Her legs and arms are decidedly pudgy. But, she is healthy and growing well.

At the end of next week, I have to take her for immunization shots again. My leave has been approved and everything. It breaks my heart. She is very brave though. She doesn’t cry much. She stops soon after starting. But, having to have her hurt is just awful. But, I’d rather she got the vaccinations, than her getting polio or some other preventable calamity.

I applied for flexi-hours on Monday. They have been approved. I start work earlier, but I get to go fetch my baby and go home earlier too. I beat a lot of the bad traffic. So far it is absolutely worth it; especially with the help of my husband every morning. I am truly blessed as far as that’s concerned.

The secret to happiness is to be grateful, after all.

I have the cutest picture of my husband holding my baby the day after she was born. I picked up a picture frame at the office supplies store down the street yesterday. It’s awesome to see the two of them every time I look up. I’ve been thinking about adding a few more recent pictures of them to the wall of my little office. I miss them so much every day.

Last weekend my husband’s rugby team beat their opponents 19-0. In the rain. I didn’t see much of the match. I was engaged in attempting to make sense of Dickens’ Tale of Two Cities. It reminds me of when I read David Copperfield 8 years ago. Dickens takes a really long time to describe things. I was 25 pages into the story and nothing had really happened yet. There was just a lot of describing.

This coming weekend there will be another rugby match. I’ve decided to pay better attention this time around. It would be awesome to see the husband in action. He has worked off about 15 kg’s since the end of last year. I’m monstrously proud of him; and just as monstrously jealous. My baby birthing fat is clinging to me for dear life.

I’ll be switching medical aids soon. I’ve done the paperwork. I eagerly await the results.

I’m broke. I’m broker than broke. The paradigm of my life has shifted in huge leaps in a relatively short amount of time. Last year this time, I was skinny, living with my parents, very un-pregnant, nobody’s mommy, had few responsibilities, spent most of my money on travel and clothes. Today, I am a co-home owner, somebody’s (large) mom, responsible for co-cooking, co-cleaning and stocking the fridge. My budget has done a 180 and there is almost zero wiggle room. Things will improve, I’m hoping.

On the whole, life is good. I wake up next to the two loves of my life every morning; my best friend and my baby. The fridge is stocked, my car is gassed. I have a great job. My parents and his have been very supportive in all ways, especially financially – which has been a great help. Setting up house is amazingly expensive, despite all the wedding gifts we received.

Last year I was a skinny free agent, but utterly miserable. Today I am a post-pregnancy mommy with a fixed schedule and budget – I couldn’t be happier.

blessed blossoms

2009-02-26T16:15:00.004+02:00

my baby girl is awesome.

with every day that passes, she becomes even cuter - if that's even possible.

some things i particularly enjoy about her, is when she is having her feeding times, she would hold one of my fingers, like my pinky, with her whole hand. sometimes, she looks at me like i'm the only thing she is really intent on looking at. it's awesome.

she smiles and giggles and gurgles. she really enjoys baths, even when she is upset.

my baby girl went for her second set of immunisations today. 1 oral and 2 needle. it was awful. she took the oral medicine very well, smiling and grimacing at the cold of it. the needles in her legs were not fun at all. she cried more last time than this time. an awesome surprise though, was that her dad showed up, just as she was really having a good cry. her dad is good at getting her calm. so, he took her in his arms, and she was better.

my baby has been sleeping all day since. that can't be good. she needs to eat every few hours. so, i'm waiting for that.

i've been calling day care centres, the time approaches for me to go back to work. for someone like me, who can't even go to gym for an hour and be comfortable with leaving her with someone else, it's gonna be very difficult for me. so far, i have'nt found a place for her yet. there seems to be a grave shortage of day care facilities in this town. i also don't wanna leave my baby with just anyone.

she is a friendly individual. she is becoming curious. it's all very cute. her personality is developing. it's awesome to watch. and it just rips my heart out to know that i won't be around to experience her other developmental milestones.

she has big brown intelligent eyes. they study the world around her with such vigour. it's awe inspiring.

i'm gonna miss her like crazy.

i reject your reality and substitute my own

2009-02-06T18:00:00.000+02:00

I reject your reality and substitute my own

So, I am in the final weeks of my glorious maternity leave. In over a little more than 6 weeks, I will be returning back to work. Not really looking forward to that. I mean, who’s gonna look after my baby satisfactorily.

For one thing, I don’t think my baby needs to cry. She shouldn’t have to. I know when she is hungry or tired or needs a change. I know when she has painful winds and so on. It is of paramount importance that her basic needs are taken care of before she feels the need to complain bitterly about them. I mean, that’s just abuse – leaving a baby to cry.

My great resolution to go to gym daily has fallen flat on its face on day 2. Yesterday was fairly brutal. My heart rate was way up. I attend the gym classes. Today I am missing an aerobics session. Yesterday we used a torture device, or “gymstick” as they call it. It was just… brutal.

On waking up this morning, my entire body cried out in pain. Arms, legs and other muscle-y bits just weren’t having it. So, I stayed in bed instead of the plan – which would be to make a bottle for the kid, get her washed and in her cot for the trip.

Getting ready for any trip these days is one long process. There are so many things a baby needs. Can’t go anywhere without a prepared nappy bag, including sterilised and filled bottle of milk – either mine or some formula. The baby needs to be bathed at least daily; clean clothes, clean blankets, clean spit-up napkin. It’s a lot of work. Preparation takes time. And more time means rising earlier in the morning. Not exactly my forte.

It’s been raining here a lot this week, which is great for the miniature garden at the back of the house. For some unknown reason, the side door to the garage has swollen shut and cannot be opened. My washing machine is in that garage. And we lock the garage door from the inside. The result? Can’t get to the washing machine. No laundry can be done. Total disaster.

Hanging out with my little ‘un has been awesome. She sleeps, eats and makes dirty nappies. Sometimes she smiles at me. Huge gummy grins. They are just the cutest damn thing. She is just the cutest damn thing. She sucks on her whole hands, and wails out when no milk miraculously seeps from them.

She has the curliest hair I’ve ever seen on a baby. Her hair is a feathery texture; soft. When stretched out, the hair is fairly long. She is only just over 2 months old now. I really should be taking more photos. My baby is a honey brown colour. I suppose this is the colour the tanning industry is built on. She is just the perfect yummy colour.

My baby has big brown eyes. They used to be pools of purest black during the first weeks of her life. But, subtly, the brown appeared. It’s a very deep dark brown, much like her dad’s.

Being at home with a baby is more work than it seems. When she is awake, she is prone to crying if she is alone in a room. I don’t want to leave my baby by herself. I’m pretty worried that something might happen to her. So, when she is awake, I hang out with her. When she sleeps, I get a chance to do chores. Dishes, laundry (when I can get to the machine); just general cleaning, picking up, straightening up, dusting, wiping, cooking.

Sigh

I have a lot to do.

The grocery shopping has been a rude awakening. It’s more expensive to eat than I first thought. I’ve been living off my parents far too long. I blew my budget thrice over so far. And, it’s difficult to buy healthy. Fruit and veggies tend to go bad fairly quickly, which means more trips to the shops for me. And, trekking outside with a kid – very tiring and time consuming.

The bugs in this house are driving me bonkers. We have an ant invasion. And 2 different kinds of ant poison lying around. The mozzies are having banquets on us. I hate it when they get my baby. She has a mozzie net, which is yet to be hung over her cot. The prior tenants must have had pets, because I have seen fleas on a couple occasions. We have replaced the disgusting carpet in the main bedroom with hardwood flooring. The baby’s room still has to be done. She currently resides in the main bedroom.

Somehow, the carpet in the tv room has to be cleaned. I have no idea how I’m gonna accomplish this. We have these fabulous rugs covering the nastier stains. It bugs me though – these bugs. And stains.

My life has taken a turn for the awesome. Despite all the work and effort that goes into daily life these days – with the focus that has shifted from me-me-me, to house, home, baby and husband – I am so grateful for my life. I have an awesome husband, a gorgeous baby and our own home. Life is wonderful and I am good enough. Finally.

Baby Love

2009-01-21T14:02:00.002+02:00

My baby girl is just over 7 weeks old now.

She is the cutest damn thing.

The routine has become easier. Nappies and feedings and sleepings are more predictable. She doesn't cry much, she's very calm and sweet.

I'm worried about the immunisations that are happening in a week. Will be the 1st time I am there while they happen. The nurse explained to me that the medicine will be burny to my baby. And she will cry a bit. Bitterly, I expect. I hope she will be able to forgive me for it, it can't be helped. I hate that sad look she gets on her face sometimes. Heartbreaking.

Hopefully the husband will be able to go with. I don't know how I'm gonna handle my baby in pain. Live and learn, I suppose.

The grandparentals have been almost swooning over the little baby. It's awesome.

Everything is turning out just... wonderfully.

Going back to work is gonna be ... awful.

Living Doll

2008-12-08T19:35:00.001+02:00

It’s been a week and a bit since I brought home my baby. It’s been a helluva learning experience.

Boobie feeding

I am doing the boobie feeding thing. No bottles. The advantages far outweigh the drawbacks, which are mostly comfort related. By the 3rd day since the delivery REAL milky white stuff started coming from my boobies. Score! The key here is the latching of the baby onto the boobie. I can’t explain the pain associated with sore boobies though. It’s fire and soreness. And full boobies that require drinking… sigh. The nipple cream has helped, however. She munches every 3 – 4 hours a day. Sometimes more, sometimes less. I don’t plan to enforce a routine. I will feed her when she is hungry, and make sure she munches for at least 15 minutes every time I whip out my boobies.

Nappy changes

At first, this seemed a daunting challenge. The first stool was handles by nursing staff, thankfully. The whole first night was taken care of, actually. My husband has been … beyond wonderful. I got a crash course in nappy changing at the hospital. My mother changed her when the baby was brought to us. Then, my cousin, who has 2 younger sisters did a few changes as well. By the time I actually HAD to, I’d seen it done a couple times. So, I play assistant to my husband when he changes her. During the day, I’m on duty. At night, he does most of the changes, as I do the feedings. I can’t explain what a help he has been. I’ve been ridiculously tired these days; must be the boobie feedings.

Sleepy time

After she eats, she sleeps. The mosquitoes have been bothering us at night. My parents bought her a mozzie net for her crib, however. Thing is, she sleeps better between me and the husband, and I don’t have to jump up and out of bed every time she makes a muffled groan.

Bath time

I had one demonstration in the hospital on how this is supposed to be done as well. Easier shown than done. Once again, the help of my cousin was invaluable. She washed the baby 3 times, before she had to go home. Varsity holidays have started, after all. So, by the time I had to do it, I’d seen it done 4 times in total. I heard of a neat trick from a work colleague – wrap her in a towel and wash her in the towel. She only cries when she is cold, so as long as I can keep the cold at bay, bath time is fine. My husband has washed her by himself as well. It went very well. Have I mentioned that he is awesome?

So, in conclusion, I have a living breathing doll. And, it’s… overwhelming at times. She is so fragile, so dependent. Very beautiful. I hate it when she cries. It’s so awful. She is such a sweet kid, she deserves only every bit of happiness that comes her way.

I finally have the angel baby I’ve always wanted. She is beautiful and sweet. She only cries when she is cold, hungry or needs a change. Other than that, she sleeps the deep sleep of the righteous. She is just gorgeous. She is developing this permanent tan, without ever seeing the sun. (haha) I suppose that’s what happens when you have an eclipse of pale and dark.

I can’t screw this up. I only have this one shot, after all. It’s gonna be a while before we do the baby thing again. It’s really expensive!

Delivery Day

2008-12-02T19:55:00.003+02:00

Kyra was born 2,5 weeks premature, on Saturday, 29 November 2008, at 17h05.

She popped out after a mere 5 pushes-it was a vaginal delivery, with epidural.

Here is a brief overview of my weekend:

Saturday morning, at 4am, I wake up due to menstrual cramps. "More Braxton Hicks." I think to myself. With a sigh I head to the bathroom, for the 10th time that night. The pain then migrated to my back, which was when I decided, no time like the present for a bath.

An hour and a half later, the bath water is cold, and the pains, erratic as they are, are not going away. And, I'm getting hungry. So, I get up, get into a towel, and head to the kitchen to get some cornflakes. Pain courses through my abdominal and back area as I ambulate up the hallway and back.

When I return to the room, I decide to call the hospital to ask what pills I can take for this pain. They tell me to come in to the hospital for a check up. Just basic foetal monitoring. So, I finish my cornflakes and get dressed. Off to the hospital we go. It is 06h50.

We make it to the maternity ward without incident. I get hooked up to a foetal monitor at 07h00. "Great" I think, the cramps have stopped. The nurse tells us that I need to be on the monitor for at least 20 minutes. Also, my stomach is "hard". Don't know what that's supposed to mean.

So, after 20 minutes of only 3 cramps happening (they were erratic as I said, not regular, one bad, one not, etc) the nurse told me my obstetrician is in the building, as another lady was in labour. The monitoring wasn't conslusive, so I should wait for the obstetrician.

In the mean time, the cramps are still coming, and I wonder about getting some Panado at least. The nurse said I'm not to have anything till the doctor has seen me. "Wonderful" I think.

At 09h00 the obstetrician shows up. She does an internal exam of my bits. It hurt. Then it was just uncomfortable. Anyway, she felt up my cervix, said that it was squishy (meaning soft), and proceded to puncture my amniotic sack. So, she broke my water, and it rushed the bed. Felt like I'd wet myself badly. So, the doctor told me, no going back now - the water is broken, the kid is coming today.

Turns out I was in real labour, even though I thought it was false, cause it didn't happen as the book said it should.

I called my parents, who got in the car and drove the 5 hour trip immediately.

I’m told the anaesthetist showed up at 10h30, it felt like hours later. The labour cramps were intense – worse than any menstrual pains I’d ever experienced. I am lucky in that my husband is patient. I was telling, nay yelling at him to rub my back harder, softer, DON’T TOUCH ME, etc. Then there was the sweet sweet numbness as the epidural took effect. The rest of the day was downhill from there.

By 14h00, I was 5cm dilated. My parents arrived at around 16h00. By 17h30 I was 9 cm dilated. The last cm took an hour and a half.

They put me in these leg brace things on the bed. The pushing part of the situation took about 15mins, then Kyra was out. I cracked up laughing the 1st 2 times I was told to push. The doctor and nurse were like, “Push like you’re constipated!” Yes, the epidural was that good.

I recall the first thing I said as she popped out and they immediately put her on my chest, was “Euw, gross.” So, they took her away and wiped her clean. Then they gave her to my husband (Who had cut the umbilical cord, by the way). He went to go show the grandparentals, who were waiting outside.

Then, out popped the placenta, all intact.

The paediatrician checked her out. Everything was fine. She went to the baby room with my husband in tow. Then all the tubes were removed from me. And, the wait for the numbness in my legs to away ensued. I’d needed extra drugs to get my right side as drugged out as my left side. It took roughly an hour or so. The husband migrated all my and the baby’s stuff to our hospital room. I had a private room for some reason.
The nurses helped me to the bathroom, where my husband helped me wash. In salt water. I walked like a drunk person, cause the feeling in my feet hadn’t returned yet. Also, my blood pressure was a bit low again, now that the baby was out. So, I was a bit dizzy as well. After the bath, I went to the room.

The first breast feeding attempt, which happened before Kyra was taken to the baby room, was … weird. I had some water-like substance appearing from my boobie. They called it colustrum. Or something. Anyway. The nurses were awesome, they helped me get the baby to latch and do some sucking. This is vital as soon as possible after she pops out. The baby needs to learn to suck properly.

Then every 4 hours, the nurses would bring the baby in for boobie feeding. Sunday my parents bought the baby a bath, and bathing stand, and nappies, etc etc. They left around 14h00. My husband slept on the lazyboy all weekend. And he helped with the nappies. Sunday afternoon and Monday, the baby spent most of the time in our room. And we had a crash course in baby care on the job. Monday morning the husband had to go to work to secure some leave. He was back in a couple hours.

We left at 18h00.

And, that’s how Kyra made her appearance.

Oh woe!

2008-11-19T09:07:00.003+02:00

So, last week I noticed for the first time, and despite many daily applications of miracle stretchmark creams, that I now have brand spanking new stretchmarks on my belly.

Not kewl.

It seems that, regardless of whatever promises made on the bottles of these lotions and potions, the fact of the matter is, if you are meant to get stretchmarks from pregancy, you will get them. And no cream is gonna stop the body from doing what it does. I.e., stretching to accommodate the parasite.

My ribs feel like they are moving outward as well, much to the discomfort of my chest. Likewise, the bones in my pelvic area seem to be moving to the side. Dull aches that don't go away accompany this perceived movement.

Monday marked the first of the now weekly visits I must make to the obstetrician. At R330 a week, I wonder if I'm in the right business. And I know that if I have any more kids, I will be skipping the larger amount of these visits. I'm fine, the baby is fine. Nothing is wrong. So, this cash could be much better spent elsewhere, methinks. Especially as there are no warning signs that anything may be wrong in this pregnancy.

I am basically done with packing my hospital bag. All I need to put in now, is a toothbrush, some jammies and an outfit or two. Problem is, I only have 1 toothbrush, 2 sets of comfy jammies I can still wear and 3 comfy outfits. If I pack them, I'll have to hang around naked in the house for the next 3 weeks. And, that, friends and neighbours, will not be happening. So, I figure, the house is only 3 mins away from the hospital; if all else fails, the husband could always go get my toiletries and an outfit during the "waiting around" part of the labour.

All systems are go for the big event. The baby's goodies have been ziplocked and are ready for use. We have many glucose rich treats for energy (Though, I can't imagine the sugar release will give sustained energy. Also, I'm planning on an epidural, but one never can know how these things will pan out. If I get to hospital too late, I may have to forego the epidural. Yikes.) The challenge now is to NOT eat the goodies in the bag before the event...

*sigh*

How the sugary treats taunt me!

I'm at the office this morning, doing some final review work. I just wanna get everything in order and done before the manager returns tomorrow. After I finish this document, I will finally be free of this place till next year. I am officially on leave. But, it's just bad sportsmanship to leave review work for someone else, even though I did receive the work a week late.

As I told my husband a couple weeks ago, to much laughter on his part - this is just how I roll.

(It's funny, you see, coz I have to roll to one side or the other when trying to get to sleep, or even just to get off the bed. Yes, I'm that big. I'm a beachball smuggler. I'm the Michelin man. I'm the progeny of both the Michelin man and the Oros man. I dun got FAT.)

Have I mentioned that I can't believe I have stretchmarks on my STOMACH?? I'd been so careful about that... *sigh* And they are this awful red-purplish colour. Same on my hips. Those are new, too. The hip ones have nestled in with my old stretchmarks from highschool. But, the stomach ones are breaking new ground.

I'm 37 weeks preggers today, folks. (Give or take a few days) Think of me around December 15th. They say 1st time round babies tend to hang around inside for longer. So, she may be out for xmas. Never thought I'd have a Christmas baby. Thanks a lot, Coke Fest weekend.

Maternity leave

2008-11-14T09:57:00.002+02:00

Today is my last day at the office before a 4 month stint of facing the brutal realities of motherhood. This week has been an optimistic one. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of impending “holiday” to get your spirits up. Have I mentioned I can’t wait to get home? Ahhhhhh… To be on holiday again…

On the dark side of the coin, it seems that nausea has returned with a vengeance. And not just up chucking the content of my oesophagus, nooooo. I have that lingering nausea again, reminiscent of my first 3 months of pregnancy. I have no idea what happened to my nausea pills, I may have to invest in finding some more.

The pictures of my belly came out rather… okay. Only one was really beautiful, where the artificial light catches me just so. I look like I’m deep in joyous contemplation of the bundle of joy under my hands. Soft glow surrounds me too. I wonder if it’s a photoshop effect.

Despite me needing to have my feet up now, and resting – Next week Monday is already gonna be a full day. I have to go see the wedding photographer (We never did get our professional wedding photos, though we may still get them one day). We are gonna make an album. I have a budget and everything. I also have another obstetrician check up same day. These will become a weekly occurrence until I pop this kid, it seems. It’s a bit heavy on my (and the hubby’s, but mostly the hubby’s) pocket.

Then I also have to go see the UIF woman, to finalise my forms and get them to the Dept of Labour. I hope they will deem me worthy of getting some money. Would suck if this was all for naught.

Also, there are a bunch of little things I still need to add to the old hospital bag.

The husband and I went to my parents’ house last weekend. Yes, a 5 hour trip. My mom washed all my baby clothes for me, and we packed them in the required zip lock bags, to ensure there is a nappy, vest and an outfit in each. Well, to be fair, my mom packed everything. I just sort of watched. My mom also made me lasagne, which I asked for. The fast food places and restaurants just can’t make food the way my mom does.

Home sickness is a weird affliction.

My kid has almost more clothes than me now.

The husband has ordered a cot online. That should be here before the baby is. (We hope.)

We are still struggling with estate agents and sellers on the price of the townhouse we want. Either way, we have no idea when we will be able to move in. And, it looks like we will be in my husband’s parents’ house till quite some time after the kid is born. I don’t think this is a bad idea. At least she will be surrounded by loving family, and a support base like that is nothing to sneeze at. More hands to help feed, bathe, burp and clean. Huzzah!

I also speak to my parentals almost daily. They have confirmed that they will be here to support me for almost the whole of December, depending how bored they get. This is great news. I don’t remember much of what they said in the pre-natal classes regarding child care. At least, with my maternity leave, I will have time to read the book I have on that issue.

It seems the office scanner has taken a scanning quality nose dive. I have been unable to get decent scans of the past 2 sonars of the babbie. My apologies, curious masses. I will be putting them into my baby scrapbook, so if anyone ever comes to visit, just ask to see the scrapbook. Rest assured that it looks like a big headed baby. You can’t see much on the sonars anyway: just a big head and some appendages. Nothing out of the ordinary.

I’m still deciding on the QE. To study or not to study, to do it, or not. This will be the last time I have study leave for it. *sigh* Is it worth it?

Can’t wait to get out of here, pity about the mountain of work!

Happy Guy Fawkes / Obama Day!

2008-11-05T08:04:00.002+02:00

35 weeks - So far, so good.

2008-11-04T12:41:00.002+02:00

The house hunt is on again, in full swing. Hopefully we will have some property in our names by the end of this month. Time will tell. We signed another offer to purchase last night. The last one was unsuccessful. What the people here do not seem to realise is that the property market is in a slump.

The credit act and the global bank crash has had a profound effect on the lending practices of banks here in SA. I.e. less people can afford loans, and the banks are stricter and more loathe granting them. And, as demand for houses decreases, the supply increases. And, that, friends and (soon-to-be) neighbours, is why the general property prices have fallen.

A turn around is expected by around next year April. Some analysts argue that this is an overly optimistic view. In the meantime, people need to realise that what they paid at the beginning of the year, or 2 years prior, is not what they’re gonna get now. Back then the market was in an upward turn, fuelled by the bubble of granting home loans people can’t afford. The credit act has helped shield SA from the brunt of the credit crunch, but no one could have predicted the rise in interest rates (10 times in the last 2 years).

So, what you could afford back then, already stretching your budget to the max, in keeping up with the Joneses, has become the bane of your financial existence now.

This also explains why repossession of property has climbed. Banks have to take and auction what clients can’t afford to maintain.

It seems that the “nesting” effect is kicking into gear for me lately. I find myself organising and reorganising my meagre cupboard space. My current domain is the hubby’s room in his parents’ house. I have half the cupboard and double the drawer space.

Yesterday, when I got the call that we are gonna put in an offer to purchase a home, my imagination went just wild at the prospect of picking out colours and decorating my first ever home. This has been dampened somewhat by the news that we will in all likelihood only be able to move in at the end of January of next year.

I’m sure everything will work out in the end. Patience is a virtua.

There will be another baby scan tomorrow. I wonder what she looks like these days. Just a couple weeks before she swims out to say hi. Hope we’ll have somewhere to put her when she does!

Happy HALLOWEEN!!!

2008-10-31T14:14:00.002+02:00

Insomnia

2008-10-31T11:54:00.001+02:00

What I wouldn’t give for the ability to sleep all the way through the night.

I suppose this is a prep for when the kid is here. Maybe I’m supposed to grow empathy for the little alien. It’s not like she will be able to avoid needing to make bathroom visits during the night. My bladder may be small, but hers is minute. And who can sleep with a nappy full of excretions?

It’s more than just the quadruple nightly visits to the bathroom. These mornings, in the wee hours, I wake up and just can’t get back to sleep. Added to this, getting to sleep at night, despite severe fatigue, is also quite a feat. There is much tossing and turning. Well – slow boulder-like rolling from side to side.

I’ve tried the pillows thing between my legs; under my belly, under my back. Nothing seems to work. At least I do get a few hours sleep per night. But, I wake up feeling tired every morning. And, this feeling persists during the day.

I am now around 34 weeks preggers.

There are still 6 weeks to go. That’s a month and a half. From what I understand, these symptoms and afflictions will only become aggravated as time goes on. I also find that driving is not so easy anymore. Sitting at my desk, is likewise not so easy. The belly seems to be in the way most of the time now.

Carrying my PC bag is also becoming more difficult as the days progress. Staying awake at work is not easy. Couple that with my shortness of breath, due to a baby filling up the space where my lungs used to work. I understand the need for maternity leave during the last month of work now.

I wonder if upping my natural sugar intake would help with this feeling of listlessness. Maybe it really is just a sleep thing. I suppose I’ll just have to wait it out. In the meantime, I could get some books to read, to keep me occupied for those sleepless mornings.

In those timeless words, uttered by Faithless: “I can’t get no sleep.”

Essings-blay and being ateful-gray

2008-10-30T08:31:00.002+02:00

It often happens that one is blind to something obvious in your life, until it is pointed out.

This happens to me more than I’d like to admit.

Last night, we had ante-natal class. Another natural birthing process (no drugs this time) was screened. Yikes, okay.

To be blunt, I am terrified of the big D Day. I am not a fan of pain. I mean, I don’t know if my threshold is high or low. I mean, some things just hurt me more than others, I guess.

For example, when I need to have blood taken from me, they can never find a vein and have to poke me up to 4 times and scratch around in the veins. It hurts like a bitch, but it’s not like I cry.

When I used to leak, before the pregnancy, I would have to drug myself out before the pain got too bad. There were 2 instances in my life when I didn’t have drugs or access to drugs when I started leaking. I was pale, shaking, foetal position, on the bed, in a trance of pain. Oh yeah, I’m also slightly anaemic.

They do say you fear more that which you have already experienced than something unknown.

Maybe I’m worried for nothing. Maybe the birthing process won’t be so bad, depending on the quality of the drugs I will be knocked out with. I can only hope.

I am lucky because I have a good husband. No, not just good – GREAT. On the upper zenith of awesomeness. When asked if he was gonna be there at the birthing process, he answered the ante-natal lady that he will be there if his wife wants him to, or not – depending on what she needs.

I’m said wife.

Ante-natal lady’s response was then: “Your husband really loves you.”

To which I thought – yes. Yes, he does. *Insert goofy smile here*

On an even lighter note, my baby is now making footprints inside my belly. I can feel her little feet and little hands, and distinguish them from each other now. There is a foot pressing on my left upper belly as I type; very insistent. I wonder if she has enough space in there. I am, after all, a little person.

There is so much in this life to be grateful for, especially when you look at the world news; credit crunch; hurricanes striking leaving people homeless. Yeah, people are fighting in politics right now, but at least there is still a measure of free speech. No one’s been shot for their opinion *yet*, as far as I know. *touch wood*

Six weeks to go before D Day. Healthy baby, healthy mom. Welcoming environment for baby. She has outfits, lotions and potions for when she emerges from her amniotic water bath. I’ll be delivering in a private hospital with a very experienced obstetrician. Maternity leave starts in 2 weeks. My husband is supportive and there for me every step of the way.

Yup, life is good.

Existential music rant

2008-10-24T10:50:00.004+02:00

Is there a distinction between things that make me authentically “me” and things that make me happy?

Try this exercise:

- Compile a list of things that make you uniquely you.

- Now compile a list of things consisting of things you enjoy or love.

- How about a list of things that make you happy?

See, here’s the thing – my lists overlap. But, I suppose that stands to reason when you take into consideration that things you enjoy probably make you happy. … That’s causality for you, folks.

I’m going through another Placebo phase.

Something that has stuck with me, which Brian Molko (lead singer) once said, was that there were way too many tiaras in their crowds. Hee hee. So, does it stand to reason that the people who listen to and love Placebo are all misunderstood, lonely and blissfully oblivious to the real world? It’s called the “Princess complex”.

I love it when Brian tells me that without me, he's nothing. (Not because Brian is saying it, but it’s comforting to hear that – from anyone, in fact.) So, that’s probably how you get stalkers. You get just that little bit detached from reality and suddenly all the lyrics were written specially for you – a person the writer (oftentimes not even the same person as the singer) has never met.

I’m also very attracted to lyrics. Make them colourful, make them deviant, make them morbid! Another favourite of mine is Mr. Manson’s sad song lyrics. For example, have you heard Man That You Fear? It starts out with: “Ants are in the sugar, muscles atrophied, we’re on the other side; the screen is us and we’re TV”.

I love interpreting lyrics. I mean, in most cases, the more cryptic the lyrics, the more multiplied the myriad meanings. I love it!

My husband has bought/ordered me a car radio. If you remember, I became a crime statisticwhen I first moved here. So, I’m anxiously awaiting the opportunity to listen to my music in my car again. Bliss!! Placebo, KoRn, Manson, Radiohead, Rammstein, Seether, Evanescence.

Okay, so maybe I have a bit of a Morbid Princess complex. But, hey – My life rocks right now. I’m a happy morbid princess, content in my perception/delusion of what the world has to offer me and in my daily experiences.

“I’m feeling so anaesthetised in my comfort zone.” – Placebo (The Bitter End)

Moving parts

2008-10-16T08:01:00.000+02:00

Last night, I experienced yet another perception change.

The nurse at the ante-natal class was talking about the dangers of not feeling any foetal movement, and how we pregnant ladies must be aware of the movement, or more specifically – lack thereof.

She further intoned that this is a very special time in our lives. We should cherish it. As it will probably only come around once or twice in our lives. (Three if we are brave). Never before and never again will we ever be this close to another human being.

I have tried to be aware of the acrobat inside me. She still somersaults, and punches and kicks. At some point soon, once she settles, I should be able to make an educated guess regarding where her head is positioned and where her feet are. Towards the end, I may even see little foot prints and handprints bulging my insides.

Last night / this morning, I had an awful nightmare. Then, I couldn’t sleep. This morning, I can’t remember the details, but I remember that it was awful.

In the tub this morning, as I went belly up to enjoy what little warmth I could, my baby seemed to be rolling around in my stomach. The nurse told us to talk to the uterus-bound kids. I don’t really have much to say to her. “How’s it hanging?”

** sigh **

I’m just tired. It’s not even that I’m okay in the morning and sleepy from 11am anymore. I wake up tired, and stay that way all day. By lunch I wanna crawl into bed. This can’t be right. Maybe maternity leave will be just the thing.

Overheard: “First time poppers usually get their babies a week or 2 early.”

So, why haven’t I read this in a book somewhere?

Ready, set, POP!

2008-10-14T10:42:00.002+02:00

In just a couple weeks, I’m gonna be somebody’s mom.

I am now 31 weeks pregnant. My stomach is huge, my fingers and feet swell. I can’t stand or sit for long. And when I deign to stand, I have urgent water-passing urges. Sleeping all the way through the night is something of the past. Lying on my back or stomach are likewise, stuff the past is made of. I am the Michelin man.

I have made an appointment to have my large body photographed. It was in one of my “free stuff” packages – A voucher for professional pregnancy pics. I’d really like the husband to be there, so I will have to move it, as the initial date clashes with exams. Ah well. I wonder what I should wear…

Yesterday I had water aerobics again. It is only for 45 minutes every time. And yet, when I get out of the swimming pool I have this overwhelming urge to sleep, and a deeply rooted tiredness, saturating my bones and muscle.

My weight remains stable. For the sake of my tame hippo physique, I hope that the better part of the weight gain has now come to an end. I’m pretty sure the aching feet is a direct result of the weight I now lug around with me. Next year this time, however, I will be bikini ready. Watch this space.

I am now once again office bound at work; which rocks, by the way. I am unfazed by the heat wave going on outside, as there is an awesome piece of air conditioning equipment in this little office. The water cooler and bathrooms are mere metres away. And, the support at the office has been wonderful. I am yet to be reprimanded for anything. I have only received praise. And this, in turn, has made me want to work all the more harder, be better.

Last night, I also worked on my scrapbook. But, I soon realised, if I am to have continuity in it, I will need to have more pix printed; especially of my weekly expanding stomach. I have been taking pix of myself sporadically. So, I am quite eager to arrange them by date to see the growth. (Yes, a benign tumour fills my gut!)

A side effect of the family I married into involves being aware of local politics now. Things are heating up on the home front. I wonder what is going to happen next. So, these days, I watch the daily news, and read the papers, especially the online ones. I read what the columnists have to say. (Then I am briefly appalled by some of the language, spelling errors and even swearing I’ve come across; shocking to say the least!) Unfortunately, I have not been privy to any insider info, as it were. But, such is life.

The parentals were here this past weekend. It was awesome. I went baby stuff shopping with my mom. We got some babygro’s, vests, blankets and towels. Anything and everything a little babbie and her mom would need. I also got all the creams, lotions and potions. I think we spent around 2 and a half grand in total. Yikes. And, the kid isn’t even here yet. On the upside, I can now pack for the hospital. After all, I have 9 weeks till D day… Time to get busy.

The jury isn’t out yet on the method of poppage that will be used. I would like to go the path of least resistance and pain, as far as possible. Time and circumstance will tell.

May I please request an epidural for the epidural?

Another day in the life…

2008-10-09T15:54:00.002+02:00

There are a few joys to being with child. Bear with me as I attempt to list some of them. Mkay?

For one thing, there are a lot of “pregnancy packs”. This translates to “free stuff”. I’ve gotten some interesting things from various institutions. For example, I went to the hospital yesterday to book a bed for D Day. Inside the “congrats-you’re-gonna-be-someone’s-mom” package there was a pregnancy diary. It’s quite cute. Pity they didn’t give it to me in the 1st month.

Other pregnancy packs I’ve received included vitamins I wasn’t sure I should be taking. A nappy. Some sweets. Bum cream (for baby). A small tub of Vaseline. No clothes though, which I think is a bit of a pity.

Another awesome plus is the lessened guilt when I eat. I mean, I’ve been eating more veggies and fruit lately, drinking more water. So, when I have the odd burger, it’s okay, you know – coz next year, the diet and exercise Nazi-like regime is back on in earnest.

The hubby and hugs that come with him aren’t too shabby either. But, that’s not necessarily a pregnancy thing.

I don’t know if the enormous mammories is a plus for me. It’s just been expensive upsizing my undies. I preferred my C cups, kthnx. I hope I will retain some firmness after all the offspring are off the boobie feedings.

There is some attention.

Personally, I’m hoping for more free stuff. This baby having thing is a seriously expensive endeavour. Sigh – medical bills.

This does not hold true for everyone, but my skin has cleared up nicely. Hormonal balance is a good thing.

Then there are the baby scans. To those I haven’t mentioned it yet, it was SOO CUUTE!! When I was in the waiting room at the doctor’s office yesterday, my baby was kicking me like mad. I think it may have been the guavas I had for breakfast – very sweet. Every time I eat something sweet, 15mins later, baby is awake and kicking. Either she likes the sweet stuff, or she doesn’t. Guess I’ll find out soon enough. Both her parents love sweet stuff. So… I’m not too worried.

ANYHOO, so, when I get onto the table for the scan, the doctor puts the gel on my now ginormous stomach. Onto the screen pops black, white and grey images of the tenant in my tummy. It seems all that kicking had tired her out, coz the first thing she does, is to give a big yawn. Then she starts nomming on her tiny little fist. It was SOO ADORABLE. I have a scan picture.

It seems that one can even make videos of the scan visits. I’m gonna enquire about that for the next visit. Which will be on hubby’s birthday – remember remember the 5th of November.

My baby has a little button nose. And, she has tiny little lips; proportionally bigger lips than mine. Maybe we should call her Angelina … NAH.

Jury isn’t out yet on the baby name we will be ending up with. It’s a large responsibility that – choosing the name someone will be stuck with for the rest of their life. Ah well. I suppose I will have made a choice by the time she pops out.

I still am yet to experience any serious cons to this pregnancy. It’s been mostly pros. Guess I’m lucky that way.

Week 30

2008-10-06T09:35:00.003+02:00

Another milestone!

What’s it like to be 30 weeks preggers?

Every time I drink a beverage these days, I seem to get nauseous for a while. (To such a degree, that I have actually made a couple hasty trips to the throne room lately, just in case.) We are in the final stages of this pregnancy, ladies and gents. 10 more weeks to go. I have gained an understanding of what is meant with the “can-we-get-this-over-with-already” attitude most pregnant women will experience at some point or another.

For one, I’m tired of being huge. The beached whale effect is not so awesome. I have trouble getting up and rolling over. It’s always accompanied by much effort on my part. And, there isn’t always someone around to help me.

On the upside, my weight seems to have stabilised a bit again. I hope this will remain the case over the next couple weeks. I can’t afford to get much bigger or heavier. I’m a tiny person. I already feel like I’m gonna fall over half the time.

On Wednesday, I am going for my next ante-natal visit. I’m very excited. Not only will my paranoia about foetal movement be alleviated a bit, but we may be able to see her face more clearly this time. I’m not thrilled about the cost, but I suppose this is a necessary evil. The husband said he will be there, so I feel much better about that as well.

Another thing that is getting to me is the fatigue. I am tired most of the time. Not that I’m all that active. This overwhelming urge to sleep the days away is not so welcome in a corporative setting. People have been very understanding, surprisingly. But, I still wish I only needed to be here in the mornings. By 11am I’m ready to head back to bed on most days.

Including this week, I have 6 more weeks till maternity leave. 10 more weeks until I pop. Time is dragging asp again.

Look out for new baby scans by the end of this week. It’s sonar time again! ^_^

As I told the husband the other day: overall, being preggers isn't so bad. I mean, my eating is a lot more guilt free. People are super nice to me and do things for me more freely. There has been much undrestanding. And, the nausea isn't so bad. It could have been a lot worse. I don't really suffer from most of the ailments my pregnancy books talk about. So, I'm lucky in that sense. There's the paid maternity leave, and the hope for a UIF payment as well!

So, don't get me wrong, friends. It's all worth it when you look at those tiny hands and feet on the screen. Or, see that little face and hear that little heartbeat. I'm sure parenting is gonna be very rewarding. She is a cute little thing already. And, she isn't even out yet.

I'm gonna be somebody's mom.

*awe*

a pregnant rant

2008-10-03T13:27:00.003+02:00

No, no, I didn’t drop off the mortal coil or anything. I’ve just been a bit burdened under the epic load of work that I’ve been allocated. It happens.

(Well, that and a new addiction.)

As the weeks pass, my abdominal area has been steadily increasing in size. I look like the oros man; but less orange, more pale.

I’m looking forward to my next doctor’s visit, next week Wednesday; another sneak peak at the little princess in uterus-al comfort. The jury isn’t out yet on whether my partner in parenting will be able to accompany me. Leave benefits for impending parenthood sure are skewed.

For example, I get to claim sick leave every time I go for my monthly (well, 6 weekly, coz I can’t afford going monthly) doctor’s visits. The husband has to book annual leave if he wants to accompany me. Both of us only get 15 days annual a year. Now, is it fair that he has to miss hearing the heartbeat, seeing the scans, and holding my hand because of these outdated laws?

It annoys the living stuffing out of me that I may have to go to the next visit by myself; sit in the waiting room by myself; not have my significant other to share the oohs and aahs with. It’s ridiculous.

(Did I make the kid by myself? Noooooo.)

We don’t have any more annual leave, we got married this year. We only took 3 days each for that. Leave has to accumulate, you see.

Paternity leave vs. maternity leave: Correct me if I’m mistaken, but I think in this country, if an impending mom has worked for a company for a minimum of 1 year, she can get 4 months maternity. By law, the dad is only allowed a minimum of 3 days paternity leave. This is for when the spawnling makes it’s anxiously awaited appearance.

3 days.

I hear the 1st 6 weeks of post birth activity are the most demanding and emotionally and physically draining for the new mom. And, she has do it alone, coz the husband has to be at work? Why wasn’t I born a trust fund baby?

Don’t get me started on the expense!

Every visit costs a minimum of R1,200. Everything is billed separately. Doctor’s consultation. Blood test. Urine test. Sonar. It’s a brilliant money-making system. My ridiculous medical aid, while still usurping R1,200 per month from me before I even receive my pay cheque, has stopped paying these bills on the 1st visit. The reason? Benefits have been exhausted. You know, coz my day to day is only R1,280 per year. Per YEAR. That includes dental, doctors, optometrist, everything. It’s ridiculous. (The frame alone of my prior set of glasses was 2 grand. WTH?)

I am studying, pregnant, working. My disposable income after deductions is embarrassingly close to zero. It’s even negative some months. It makes me wonder what exactly the point to me working is. Coz, I don’t see any of the money. Most of it is deducted before it even reaches my bank account.

And, don’t get me started on the money making racket the bank is! Including but not limited to: Monthly “management” fees, stop order fees, “handling” fees, interest. My bank costs are close to R200 per month. And for WHAT?

Hey, I’m just trying to make an honest living here. The hubby and I are dual income, and living at his parents’ house for FREE, but making ends meet is becoming a nightmarish ordeal.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I didn’t do the research or something. I went to every banking website and compared costs for all the products I use. Guess what – they all put the screws on the same. If one’s interest rate is 1% higher or lower, they just make up the difference on the annual “card fee” or “management fees”. The differences between them are negligible. Therefore, it’s not worth the effort (and cost!) of switching banks.

The medical aid is compulsory.

The studies (at a grand a month) are also compulsory. It’s in the old service contract.

Tax is also compulsory.

So, what if I just quit my job? Yikes.

-I suppose I could go to government health institutions for free. Maybe contract TB in the waiting room, HIV by inadequately trained staff in inadequately staffed and stocked clinics.

- I suppose I could queue all day for a week in a room full of sick people, on a first come first served basis, it’s not like I’d be working.

- I wouldn’t be able to afford to study any further, therefore making the chartered accountancy designation evade me forever, despite the LARGE need for more of those in this country. I don’t know why education is so expensive anyway.

- No more work, no more tax for the government to misspend, or corrupt politicians to line their pockets with. (Don’t get me started on the mismanagement of tax funds. I see it every day in my occupation. It’s SCARY: Unqualified people making questionable, fraudulent and illegal choices.)

People who DO go to the free clinics pay absolutely nothing. They get their consultations, procedures 100% free. There isn’t even a co-pay. Whereas the tax paying citizens are not only paying outrageous amounts in tax (not really paying, more like the money gets jacked before you even get your pay cheque), but are forced to join costly medical aids, and then still pay for medical care, as the funds just don’t cover the medical basics.

I’m just broke, tired, uncomfortable and irritable. Don’t mind me.

Post script
In this country, it is illegal for an employer to make a husband work while his wife/girlfriend/mother of his child is in labour. Comforting. Barely.

Even more vivid dreams

2008-09-19T10:28:00.001+02:00

Since I’ve been pregnant, my dreams have become incredibly detailed, colourful, real.

The other night, there were snakes everywhere. And a horned pale green one chasing me. Every time it got close to me, I would freeze. It was after me. I was supposed to pack some things for a trip, but everywhere I touched, were tiny wormy red and black, black and yellow snakes. Not fun.

This morning, I dreamt that 2 of my most esteemed and kind hearted colleagues had double teamed up on a girl, a little blonde thing. Then, they had consensually deflowered her. The dream has me yelling at them from my soap box how irresponsible what they have done is. And, that it was a gift for her one day husband, etc. She just sat there on the floor, looking dazed and confused.

Then there was the dream that my husband was forcefully and with intent trying to hurt the baby by squeezing on my stomach. So much so, that it was painful to me. This happened twice, then I woke up.

A recurring theme has been my husband cheating on me, leaving me, abandoning me. Usually an ex features. And usually he is callous towards me, uncaring.

My pregnancy books say that these dreams during pregnancy are usually an expression of one’s most deeply rooted fears.

Well, the snake dream is easily explained away. I was reading a short story about a man with a deadly snake slumbering on his stomach, scared out of his mind. I fell asleep with the book on the bed.

This morning’s dream… is a bit more random. I’ve been discussing old time values and so on with one of the client personnel. So, the neurons could be firing off on that. It bothers me when I hear of infidelity and shameless irresponsible actions; especially where trust is broken. It just cuts deep.

And, of course, I have abandonment issues. I usually end up being left by my significant other, as a result of being too clingy. Usually.

These clear dreams have been a blessing and a curse.

There have been more nights than I’d like to count, when I wake up from an abandonment nightmare. Then, with murder in my eyes, I abruptly move away from the husband. He, of course, oblivious to the wrong doings he had committed in my dreams. But, it feels so REAL.

Then, when I have the other nightmares, it’s nice to have someone’s chest to hide in and someone to hold onto when one is scared right out of your mind.

See? Blessing and curse.

The pregnancy books say most people dream about the coming baby.

That only happened to me in the beginning. I wonder, as the time approaches, will I have more baby related dreams? Or, will it always just be all about me?

Pregnant pause

2008-09-11T10:12:00.004+02:00

Ravaged by medical costs, this month is turning out to be a bit on the thin side, other than my (34%) body fat. Sigh. It seems that pay day just can’t get here soon enough.

Tax season is also here. I’m anxiously awaiting my tax return. I expect that I will have a huge payment to make, because my prior employer did not deduct the tax from travel claims received. About R5,000. Last year it was a Christmas surprise, and all my holiday money went with it. This year, I am prepared.

Also, we had our first ante-natal class last night. Somehow, I got the times wrong, and we were half an hour late. Somehow, we didn’t miss much. It was about breastfeeding, and the first couple days after birth. I don’t know if I’m gonna be having more kids, if the stuff about bursting, broken and bleeding nipples is true. But, I have no reason to doubt the nurse who presents the class.

I’ve been going to gym every now and again. I saw online that the ideal workout should not exceed 145 heartbeats per minute for us pregnant ladies. I usually exercise at 120. More than that makes me feel like I’m gonna die or something. So, yeah.

I’ve also learned that the best kind of exercise for me to get, would be water aerobics. Luckily, the gym does offer these classes. Unluckily, all 3 sets of my pre-pregnancy bikinis no longer fit. So, I’m gonna have to make a plan. I look forward to this class, though. The instructor seems friendly and well versed with this stuff. She has had some babies of her own. Her tips and knowledge have been invaluable.

Next year, once I’ve popped, I’m gonna be getting back into shape, post haste. I just don’t wanna be too hard on myself now regarding my weight. But, I can’t help but feel I’ve gone to the dark side of obesity. My pre-pregnancy BMI was about 20, which bordered on under-weight. Now, it’s 29,oh-my-god-30-is-obese-and-I’m-decimal-points-away-from-it!

I’ve gained 20 kilograms since I got pregnant, and I’m not even in my 3rd trimester yet. That can’t be good. My husband said I shouldn’t worry so much; I’m too vain to become a fatty. ^_^ (That’s not a direct quote or anything, just a paraphrase.) To myself, I don’t look grotesquely obese, but the indicators are worrying me.

I’m solidly booked on work for the next 9 weeks. My maternity leave starts on the 17th of November. After hearing about 3 – 4 hour breastfeeding frequency last night, I’m having serious misgivings about my ability to pass QE next year. It’s gonna be … nigh impossible, despite having all that time off. The story goes that I will be physically, emotionally and spiritually exhausted trying to take care of my little ninja.

I have 9 more weeks of work, then I’m off. I can’t wait.

Post script
Just a note to all the survivors of 9/11; It’s been 7 years. We pray for you all.

Another 1st

2008-08-28T15:20:00.002+02:00

Last night, while in bed, my baby was visciously kicking me / exercising her limbs inside my tummy.

Usually the kicks are infrequent, and difficult to project when or where she will strike.

But, this time, she seemed quite insistent, with 1-2-3 little bumps on my inside being felt, all in a row, all around the same place - lower abdomen. I told the hubby to put his hand flat "right here", which he did.

To which I then asked: "Did you feel that?" Him: "No." Me: "Did you feel THAT?" Him: "No." (insert frustrated sigh here) Me: "How about that one, did you feel that one?" Him, smiling: "Yes, I felt it."

So, last night, for the 1st time, my husband felt our baby kicking the juice out of my insides. Magical moment.

The kicks and punches have become more frequent and more pronounced. With 3 months to go, I can only imagine that it will become even more so.

What a little athlete!

When in Rome

2008-08-26T11:41:00.002+02:00

There is a problem with the interwebz here. It malingers in and out of consciousness. This has become very annoying.

News on the pregnancy: I went to the gym last night. No no – not to exercise, goodness forbid! Just to check things out and see what is available at what price.

I pointed to my stomach, and intoned, in my best Captain Obvious Voice, “Highly Pregnant.” The overly excited sales person / “consultant” then started going off on a tangent about how yoga is very good for pregnant ladies, in fact they have a class on now, and at this special special rate, you could join now, at as very little as so much per session, or so much per month. All you have to do is sign away your immortal soul and pledge eternal allegiance to the art of “body sculpting”.

I thanked him for his time and said I’d see them all next year. You know, after I’d popped the kid. My budget just would not allow for anymore stretching. It’s holding on for dear life as is.

Lately, the “round ligament pain” which is “completely natural” and “expected”, has been bothering me immensely; especially at night. It makes for difficulty in lifting my legs, walking about, getting up, getting comfortable, and so on. It’s not pain exactly. It’s just a sort of acute pressure in the groin area. The books say this is caused / aggravated by long periods of sitting (I have a desk job), or standing.

Nothing can be done about it. I’m supposed to lie down, or take a nap when this happens. I wonder how my manager would feel about that.

I’ve noticed that going for frequent walks do help a little; but, not much. And, walking for exercise after work doesn’t do it for me, because I’m convinced I need frequent bathroom breaks. Not so kewl when one is in the middle of nowhere.

Besides, my gym wear don’t fit me at all anymore. I’d have to get 2 new pairs of XL pants. Sigh. I didn’t expect my high knee to enlarge along with my now bulbous stomach.

I know I’m supposed to be exercising, but even my doctor told me joining the gym now would be a colossal fruitless and wasteful adventure. A waste of money: in other more eloquent words. I’m supposed to walk. The books say I’m supposed to stretch and do light weights, and this and that exercise.

Alls I knows is, once this kid pops, I’ll be back at the gym, paying for torture.

Nefarious wiles

2008-08-26T11:02:00.000+02:00

So, the question posed today, class, is that of the nature of self esteem, and the possible aggravation of negativity when pregnancy hormones are introduced.

How much of this is the baby’s fault? And, how much of this was merely an underlying affliction, lying in wait for the opportune moment to strike?

Well, first and foremost, no fault lies with the young babbie – She didn’t ask to be brought here, she was merely the fastest swimmer in the bunch. Kudos!

Based on my personal history, and what I know of myself, I’d say, this was probably a malignant tumour just waiting to be awoken.

So, self esteem: or more accurately, the lack thereof.

I have an existential query.

How much is too much, and how much is not enough?

In my humble experience, when in a boy/girl relationship, certain things happen in a certain sequence without fail. Yes, classmates, a pattern has emerged.

In the amorous beginnings, all is well with the world, romance is rife, and the relationship a prolific breeding-ground (if you’ll excuse the implied pun) of love, lust and well-being.

That lasts a while; a couple months, in fact.

But, somewhere the balance of attention–seeking and attention-needed go badly afoul. There is a fine balance to be kept, after all; elusive equilibrium.

I am the mad smotherer.

The more I am pushed away, the more I smother. And, at some point, it all becomes unbearable.

I wonder what the emotional dynamics of this would illustrate.

Sometimes people need time apart to miss each other. Sometimes, people need to have separate lives, and interests – just to keep the mystery alive.

I want to show love and receive love. But, how much is too much? How much is not enough? Is it ethical to act in a certain way to get a certain result, if said actions do not reflect the true feelings behind them?

Mostly, I just feel fat.

And, it’s not his fault.

Relationships are hard.

Brainoscopy

2008-08-25T12:33:00.002+02:00

It’s been less than fun blogging lately.

I’ve read in my various pregnancy books and magazines that it often happens that women become feeble-minded / absentminded / forgetful during the pregnancy. I find this holds true.

However, I’m the kind of person who always knows where her keys are (unless they’ve been hi-jacked by he who will not be named, but is very much loved). So, that’s not where the atrophy of mind has struck.

It’s been a source of much frustration for me – verbiage. I can’t seem to put my brain on a word. There I’d be, having a perfectly fine conversation with the hubby, knowing what I want to say, and just abruptly halting. “What is that word…? Man! If I can just remember that word… AAARRRGGH!!”

On the upside, these blank outs are temporary and I eventually manage to get the word off the tip of my brain and into the conversation. Thank goodness for that.

Now, I must indicate at this juncture that English, although it has now become my home language by marriage, is in fact my second language. I still speak Afrikaans with my parents, brother, friends, at work. It is more prevalent for this to occur when speaking the language of the Brits, than my home language.

I wonder if there have been studies to this effect.

Regardless, this is just one more of the many many varied quirks of being high up the pole.

Typing up a blog post is less than exhilirating when one can't remember a word, or have a certain tone in mind, but can't get it out in writing. As you may have noticed, this post... sigh. Not one of my favourites, but I felt I should say something.

I am now 24 weeks into this thing. With the science available today, if my baby was a premie (pre-mature) at this stage, she will more than likely still survive with minimal problems. … That said – I should also add that, survival is linked to the quality care baby will get; also how soon that care can be administrated.

I wonder if science can save my brain...

Somewhat unrelated:
The hunt for the perfect name is still on. We have sort of decided that the initials E.L.L would be charming. We have a middle name down. And the surname is self evident. So any suggestions for English E-names would be welcome. Hell, maybe even some Afrikaans ones. The polls are open. Don’t be shy.

Scan at 22 weeks preggers

2008-08-19T09:48:00.001+02:00

It's a pink one!!! ... probably

2008-08-14T08:03:00.004+02:00

Yesterday the hubby and I were fortunate enough to visit with both the dentist (zero cavities!) and the obstetrician. I had another scan on my tummy. The "anatomy scan". Everything looks fine. Legs and arms intact. Big feet. Little fingers. No harelip, tiny nostrils, tiny mouth, arms carelessly thrown back, feet crossed in a relaxed position. Baby is living it up in mommy's tummy.

The kicks and punches have become more pronounced, but hubby has not been able to feel them yet. Even to me, it feels only like an insistent butterfly, trying to take off against the inside of my lower abdominal area.

The sign of ze hamburger means that it is in all likelihood, a pink alien. ^_^

The search for an appropriate name can now start in earnest.

I'm not entirely convinced that it's a femme yet. We may get a surprise in December, or at the next scan (which will be in October). I've heard many stories of predictions that went the other way. Besides, all the gender predictors that I've had a look at, predict a boy.

I don't really care either way. The baby looks healthy and happy. And, that's all that really matters, innit.

Stay tuned - scans to follow (tomorrow, when I remember to bring them to work with me)

Pantheism vs Theism

2008-08-08T09:32:00.001+02:00

Read all about it here - interesting stuff

Also here.

Scan at 8 weeks preggers

2008-08-04T14:49:00.004+02:00

germination

2008-08-04T14:37:00.000+02:00

I spent the last week feeling about ready to die.

You never appreciate everything you have, until you lose it, or can’t make use of it.

Like, breathing for example. Or, the ability to use meds.

Yes, ladies and germs, when one is preggers, there is a list about as long as the wall of china on the meds you are no longer allowed to take, because they pass through the placenta and drug out the baby.

So, I went to the hospital last week, they put me on a drip for 4 hours. Liquids and meds. I had a scary temperature. Headache, body pain, runny stuffed nose (go figure, right), ear ache, increased heart rate, fever… it was not fun.

So, hopped up on strepsils and panados, I spent the past week in a daze, sleeping many a morning away. It was good to take a week off. Now, back at the office, I have SO much to catch up on, and missed 2 important meetings last week. *sigh*

Two more months – then it’s the holy grail of leave: maternity leave for 4 months.

But, that depends if they are gonna let me come back. I have a temporary contract till December. But, I’m going on leave in middle November. So, that is to be discussed. Should be interesting. I wonder if I am eligible to claim UIF. Apparently, if you do not get full salary during maternity leave (which I won’t, if I get anything at all), I should be eligible for UIF, but you have to apply. 2 months before you go on leave, actually.

On the upside, I am no longer sick. I have a bit of a chesty cough, but I’m sure that will leave in time.

On the downside, my medical bills are just about piling up to form their own mini-Kilimanjaro. Not kewl. And, don’t get me started on my retarded medical aid. Sigh. Things sure are expensive. More forms, more money out of my pocket. It’s so much admin to get to.

At least I have my health. Sort of.

da alien babbie at 16 weeks, 4 days

2008-07-25T09:12:00.004+02:00

The first of many

2008-07-23T16:32:00.000+02:00

Last night, just as I was repositioning my wide load in bed, I felt the 1st of 3 tentative kicks in my abdomen. What a magical moment! This was my kid, making it’s impact on the world at large, by kicking dents into mommy’s stomach.

I waited eagerly for the phenomenon to repeat itself, without satisfaction. All in good time, I suppose. I read somewhere that towards the last months of the pregnancy, the baby’s acrobatics are so intense, they regularly wake the mom.

I’m a light sleeper.

It’s weird, I still can’t process that I’m preggers. I mean, if it weren’t for the stomach and the constant eating and peeing… yeah. I never really thought I’d be pregnant, of all people. I mean, it was a possibility, but much the same way becoming an astronaut is a possibility: If you set your mind to it, you could do it, but it’s something other people do. Not I.

“The baby just kicked me!” I excitedly exclaimed to my husband. He then jetted to my side, and placed his hand on my protruding belly. “It probably won’t happen again,” I said. “I mean, that was the 3rd one.” Reassuringly, to my ears, I added, “Don’t worry – this will happen a lot more often in the next couple weeks, and months.”

I saw a pic online of a pregnant belly, ready to pop, with a tiny footprint plainly visible against the skin. A sort of infantile “Let me outta here!” And I couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what awaits me. I’m 20 weeks into this pregnancy. Well, 19,5 weeks. And I’m already whale sized. I don’t know how people hide pregnancy. It’s rather very obvious on me.

My mom is probably right. This is probably a girl. Big in front equals girl. Carrying low equals boy. Simple.

I’m looking forward to the next scan – gonna find out the flavour. And then the naming battle will commence!

Pregnancy note of the day
I hate my atom-sized bladder.

(more) Dreamscapes

2008-07-21T11:10:00.000+02:00

I had another dream the other morning; Saturday morning, in fact. I don’t remember much of what happened in the dream…

Once again, I dreamt I had a baby girl.

I spent the weekend at home, my parents’ home. It was awesome.

My mom gave my distended stomach one look, and said, that’s a girl in there. Look how far forward that tummy is – boys tend to lie more in the back.

Of, course, it could go either way.

Every morning, my stomach goes flat. When I wake up, I just look slightly on the pudgy side. But, by lunch time, and even moreso at night, I have this grotesque bulging bloated stomach. Another crazy quirk of nature. Go figure.

Also, an interesting sidenote that my mom told me this weekend: She said that just before I dumped the news of my pregnancy earlier this year, she had had a dream that someone in the family was preggers. And she remembers wondering to herself “Wie in die familie is nou weer op die paal?”. Hilarious. Anyway, long story short, it turned out to be me, which was about the last person she was expecting. My mom said she wondered about all the cousins, but didn’t even think to look in her own house.

This morning I had a nightmare. Haven’t had one of those in years. (And I stand by what I say: I really don’t dream that often. And I only really remember my dreams when my sleeping pattern is disrupted somehow – either by waking up too early, or being able to sleep late)

I woke my husband with my mewling. He turned me. I woke. Nightmare over, husband there to comfort me.

Bliss.

“You’re afraid of the dark?” he asks me this morning. I blush a fiery crimson and sheepishly admit “Yeah. I always had a nightlight at home.” “Oh. I didn’t know that.”

Go figure, right.

Anyway, the dream was horrible. I was lying on my back and I couldn’t move. Everything in the dream was in slo-mo. There was a resident evil (haha) manifesting itself in a room. It turned people into evil entities, violent. But, to the other two people in the room, you look like the evil entity. We were all hitting and slapping each other, speaking in slowed horrible voices, but sounding normal to ourselves.

When my husband turned me, I was pushed out of the room at the same instant.

He said he heard me say something – but, it didn’t make sense, and he couldn’t hear what I was saying.

I’ll tell you what I was trying to say in that molasses surreal dream-state: “GET OUT!! GET OUT OF THERE!!”

I wonder what it all means….

i am just a statistic

2008-07-16T08:07:00.001+02:00

so, this morning, i woke up on the wrong side of the crime statistic.

It seems that somehow, someone, or sometwo, managed to smash the back passenger window of my car, driver's side, and steal my radio. the whole thing. face, back part - everything. there is a gaping hole where my beloved cd/mp3 player used to be. and soon, there will be a 2 grand hole in my pocket, to replace said radio.

It's funny, (funny weird, not funny haha) that of the 3 cars outside (in the carport, inside the fenced yard), mine was the only affected one. It's funny that none of my (hard rock / metal) cd's were taken. And, it is funny that the cash in the middle (couple coins in change) was not taken either. It boggles my mind that they even got into the yard. (wonder if the dogs were in the back...) They must've gotten over the fence somehow... i don't know.

on the upside, (yes, i can manufacture an upside - positive influence my husband is having on me) - this is forcing me to have my windshield replaced, which has 2 chips in it. It was a protest based on principle - i had paid the car servicing place to "fix" one of the chips, they took my money, i dont know if they ever did the job, coz that chip just spread it's broken wings. so, now that i have to have the back window replaced, may as well do the front. more cash munny out the window. ha ha.

the 2nd upside, is that my car was still there this morning. alas, the insurance won't pay for any of this. my car, that i pay for, is in my dad's name (better rates). so, this is all for my account. sigh. it woulda sucked if i didnt have a car at all anymore. i love that car.

crime sucks. what'd i ever do to whoever did that. i just work hard, study hard, and try to make ends meet. i don't party or drink, or smoke, or whore around. but, i'd bet the people who steal do.

just another day.

Y2k was the epoch-alypse

2008-07-15T09:46:00.000+02:00

This second trimester thing is easy. But, legend has it that, the 3rd and final trimester is the bastard to end bastards.

I’m looking fatigue, swelling, and general apathetic resignation in the face. A need will arise to get-this-over-with-already. Blimp-sized and irritable, 3 months of agonising torture await my already distended stomach.

And fat pants; lots and lots of fat pants.

If someone had told me a year ago, that I would find myself here, in this town, with child, married, in a different job, with a man I didn’t even know back then… let’s just say it would have been on the difficult side to convince me.

8 years ago, I had a very definite plan for my life:

I was going to be married by the time I hit 25, be a successful CA, get a house with 3 rooms and 2 bathrooms, 2 garages, the picket fence, the works. I was gonna be well off. Enough so to modify my house the way I wanted it, and to paint on weekends, and to wear fashionable clothes, etc.

Reality is a tad off base.

By the time I hit 24, I had modified my plan for myself.

I’m still not a CA, but I’m closer to it now than I ever have been. I was gonna get married at 28, kids at 30. The parasitic alien in my stomach changed all that very suddenly, but up until the beginning of this year, that was still the plan.

Something I’ve realised, however, is that – I am the person I always was. I didn’t become any more stylish, or fashionista with age. That whole scene has always evaded me. What I look like is what I look like, and I don’t really know how to put an outfit together, or shop for clothes.

The house market also threw me one hell of a curveball.

I’ve been living with my parents up until 2,5 weeks ago. (Now I live with my husband’s parents. No big change there) But, it is dam nigh impossible to procure a reasonable house in a reasonable area at a reasonable price. Also, I have no money. And my salary isn’t near enough to support the misconceptions I had about receiving a salary.

Over weekends, there is barely any time for anything. My paint lies accusingly in the corner, discarded. It has been an uphill battle for me to find canvas. Weekends are just too short these days. Weeks are short. Time is short.

Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.

academicus nauticus

2008-07-14T09:07:00.000+02:00

so, i got my detailed QE results today. I mean, I already knew I failed, they told us that 2 weeks ago already. but, today, i got the detail symbols.

on the positive side - i passed one out of the 7 questions, got a B (60-69%) for that one. (Need 50 for a pass per question; last year, i just missed passing. got a D average. bastards.)

On the planning-to-fix-this end, i have enrolled in and paid for the pre-board course with UJ, and am gonna do the board course next year. i will also be able to attend all classes (didn't do a board course last year. and the prior year, had to drive to JHB every weekend), coz they have classes for the boardcourse here, in Bloem. Awesomeness. no more tiresome driving.

Going home this weekend (parents' house) to go get the last of my stuff - books, dvds, games, desk, etc. don't have our own abode as of yet, but we'll get there. i need to get studying. time is running out... ideally, i should have started studying in february... ah well.

upwards and forwards, i suppose.

just a note: if i do not make the QE on this, my 3rd try, there will be no other tries afterwards. This is the last time. I will be content with my 3 degrees, articles and CTA (Certificate in Theory of Accounting). By the end of this year, I'm gonna be somebody's mom. the responsibility; immense.

Moo moo syndrome

2008-07-09T11:36:00.000+02:00

These days, I graze constantly. All the time – I eat. I cannot help myself. I feel a burning starvation permeating my general stomach area if I cannot attend to the need when it arises. Although, at work, I endeavour to maintain a stoic countenance, the searing hunger overwhelms me.

Pregnant memory loss seems to have set in as well. I forgot my cellphone in the bathroom this morning. Lady Luck is with me in that my co-workers here are honest folk… that could have been a nasty turn of misfortune, had I not retrieved my phone – my lifeblood.

Yesterday, I vacated my cupboard (well, the sections in my husband’s cupboard allocated to me) of clothes that no longer fit. I have a serious shortage of pants. But, I will remedy this at a later stage in the pregnancy. According to the doctor, my weight at discharge will be 75kg’s. Not kewl. But, I plan to fix that as soon as possible after the poppage.

To assist in my constant meals, I bought a lunch bag. In it, I hoard a myriad little snacks – some healthier than others. After all, not all snacks were created equal. I can’t help but wonder if my constant mastication does not offend those around me. We all sit in rather close proximity. But, when faced with scorching hunger in my stomach vs the discomfort of those around me at chewing noise, they don’t stand a snowball’s chance.

The new job is going well. I’m worried about my productivity. It’s not that great… but, I have been busy lately. And, it seems this is only liable to increase in intensity as the days advance.

I hope this forgetfulness will not impede my abilities for the whole term of this preggersness. I suppose to err is human, and I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. It’s just that I never forget my cellphone anywhere…

I just ordered a sandwich. I eagerly anticipate it’s arrival.

Moo.

HAPPY 4TH OF JULY, all you USA-ers!!

2008-07-04T11:00:00.001+02:00

Haiku sidenote

2008-07-04T10:32:00.000+02:00

my pillow absorbs

my bitter tears these dark days;

tears without reason

The callous quirks of nature

2008-07-02T11:26:00.000+02:00

Fate and Nature were feeling especially moody the day they decided what pregnancy would be like for a human being.

One would think that with all the pain, nausea, irritability, cost, tests, prickings and blood-takings, ad infinitum – there would be less pro-creation in this world. And yet, the opposite holds true.

One of the dirtiest tricks Fate and Nature have cooked up, is how the uterus and growing foetus is comfortably situated right on top of the bladder. And, thus, as the baby expands, more pressure is added to my already over-active bladder.

Hilarious, guys.

I make 2 to 3 nightly trips to the throne room. At work, I’m on the opposite end of the building regarding bathroom access. It's a regular daily scurry.

And, I’m only 4 months into this thing.

I shudder to think what is gonna happen to me and my bathroom situation once my stomach becomes seriously distended. I’m also starting to cross the border between “Is she just fat, or is that a preggy belly?”

To this day, (Day 3 at the new job) I have seen no other pregnant ladies in this office. My prior office had 3 (One recently popped - 2 months prior, one about to pop - 2 months to go, and the wife of a colleague who is a couple weeks behind me - 3 months preggers). There was a sort of kinship and sense of belonging there.

Here I just feel fat, and in the way.

As soon as this parasite evacuates its comfy womb, and I am again able to evacuate my bladder at more reasonable intervals, I’m heading to Ye Olde Gymm, to get back into an acceptable shape.

I nearly had a tantrum this morning. I don’t know if I should laugh or cry at my misfortune. I had to go through 2 pairs of pants and 2 shirts before I found something that still fits me. I can’t believe my current growth rate. I suppose it’s both a good and bad thing. Good, coz my baby is being VERY well fed, and has the best chance of being healthy. Bad, coz society forces us to believe that thin is beautiful, and fat is disgusting. Not great for the self-esteem, I must concede.

I don’t wanna buy too many items of “fat pants”. I like to think of this as a transient period in my life. (Till my period returns, ha ha) I have 4 pairs of pregnancy pants. One is suitable for work. I haven’t figured out how to make the others work… for work...

I need a stylist.

Gratitude Journal – 02 July 2008
I don’t look like a blimp… yet.

neon genesis

2008-06-30T09:59:00.001+02:00

Today is my unofficial first day at the new office. (Tomorrow is the official 1st day)

And, it's all very intimidating.

There are 4 times more people here than at my prior office. I’ve already forgotten the majority of names of people I was introduced to [no amount of memory tricks could help me there]. The office is much bigger. There is no fixed seating plan, it’s pretty much first come, first served. It’s a whole new … atmosphere. Less mucking about; more getting the job done.

People here are very professional looking. Not in a runway model sense. Just – these people look like auditors. I have this urgent need to go shopping, so I can fit in. Can’t look like a hobo for the rest of my time here… That’s just not cricket.

I must have some serious self image and inadequacy issues, coz I have all these surging fears, threatening to drown me. I wonder if I will adapt or die. I wonder what the future holds. I wonder if this was a good idea… if I will flourish.

I’m grateful that I have a wonderful man by my side, helping me and looking out for me every step of the way.

On the pregnancy front; 4 months preggers now. My pants don’t fit – none of the traitorous buggers. I have a couple maternity tops I wear, and some pants. They will become my uniform over the next couple months. In these tops, I don’t even look all that preggers, which is a good thing. But, my regular clothes make me look like a stuffed Michelin man, ready for the fat farm.

Other than nasal congestion, I’m doing fine. When I get hungry, I still feel like I’m gonna die of fiery stomach starvation if I don’t eat immediately. But, this too will pass. Speaking of which, I’m pretty hungry right now. * sigh * will be ordering sammiches soon.

Food, glorious food.

A funny feeling

2008-06-27T08:47:00.000+02:00

I feel fat.

There is nothing about me that says pregnant right now. In fact - I wonder if I still am. (Next sonar tomorrow - that always drastically influences my perception)

I can still sort of fit into some of my, what used to be bigger pants. The regular fitting ones are a dead loss now. They hang there in my cupboard, mocking me. They take up space, but I dare not get rid of them - Might use em again after the poppage.

I leave my parents' house tomorrow. I am moving to another city 5 hours away. It's a bit initimidating, but exciting at the same time. I look forward to it. It's gonna be one helluva adventure. And if the career ride gets a bit too much for me, I can always just get off. (Got my articles signed off 3 days ago. A great feeling)

I'm 4 months pregnant. And I just feel fat.

No more nausea, or cravings, moodswings are minimal. This is the chilled out 2nd trimester. All that really happens now, is that my belly is supposed to grow. And it has accepted this challenge with zeal. I need more fat pants.

Starting this week, my baby can now hear. I wonder what I should play for him/her. On the other hand, I am now nasally congested; another one of the many perks of having a bun in the oven. I hope this will pass soon. I have so many questions for the doctor. Tomorrow can't come fast enough.

QE results today. Expectations: Low. Mood: Excited at prospect of leaving.

Tomorrow just can't come fast enough.

Rapid exit

2008-06-10T10:58:00.000+02:00

I spent the morning hugging the toilet in this june winter frost. it was less than appealing. i lost my whole breakfast. i feel fragile.

I don't know if it is morning sickness, no nausea accompanied this calling for george and louis. I don't know if it is stress or exhaustion. I spent the past 3 years being stressed out at work. That's over now. Is it stress about the impending wedding? I don't know. (T minus 4 days, folks)

Usually, when i used to get bad stress, i'd get tension headaches. no puking. never puking. and i spent the first 10 weeks of this preggersness being so nauseous i could barely eat / walk / work. so, what is this now? i can't get this every morning. I don't have enough leave for this!

My body is against me.

On the plus side, if nothing i eat stays down this week, my wedding dress will definitely fit on saturday.

Preparations of a prolific kinde

2008-06-03T09:20:00.000+02:00

So, for those who don't know it yet, my wedding is in less than 2 weeks.To that end, there have been a lot of preparations and so on. For the most part, all the details are being handled by the parentals, which is great.

The most pressing matter on my mind these days has however been, the first dance of the wedding. i have a few issues:

my groom is twice my height.
we haven't decided on a song yet.
we've never close danced. ever. strange as that is.

okay, so the height thing should be lessenend by the scary heels i'll be wearing that day. i should be almost shoulder length to him. i can hope. and if all else fails, he has agreed to pick me up for it. sigh. sometimes it's hard to be a midget.

As for the song -- there are a bunch of contenders. We have decided to go classic romantic. like, for example:

You Are My First, My Last, My Everything (Barry White)
Heaven (Bryan Adams)
Endless Love (Diana Ross & Lionel Richie)
At Last (Etta James)
Let It Be Me (Everly Brothers)
The Way You Look Tonight (Frank Sinatra)

He added some Westlife, I added some BoyzIIMen. I have no idea what we are gonna pick. but, at least we have a list. That's a start, am I right?

Update - we just may go with KCi and Jojo's All My Life. Who knows. We have a couple days to decide.

We have never close danced. It's a bit of a logistical nightmare, really. He is far far away. And when we are together, he is very TALL.

On the upside, i will be there a couple days before the wedding. So, we will have a practice run. If it does not go well, then - well, we don't HAVE TO dance the first dance. I mean, we can give that a skip. there will be a thousand eyes... all staring... boring into us... evaluating... judging...

*sigh*

No pressure.

Dreamscapes

2008-05-26T15:11:00.000+02:00

i had a dream the other night.

i dreamt i was on the beach. i was already a mommy. my little one was walking beside me, jumping from driftwood, to sand, looking for seashells.

she was of darkest ebony, shining brilliantly in the twilight. curious, and full of life. questions bubbled from her, her inquisitive nature seeming to mirror mine. she was joyful and happy, content with the answers i gave her, only until the next question crumpled her brow.

"mommy, why is the sky red? what are the fishes doing under all that water? how do they breathe, mommy? are we going home soon? can't we stay here?"

she had fiercely red hair, like someone i may have created on an RPG. Neverwinternights springs to mind, though i always made my characters blue-skinned with long flowing white hair. I remember feeling nothing but love and adoration for my offspring, as we walked side by side on the beach.

i was wearing a long dress, billowing in the wind. i remember feeling at peace. i remember the pride swelling in my heart as my little girl found another seashell, and whooped with delight.

it was a good dream.

Post script
At the risk of sounding ungrateful, and please know that i hope for a healthy one of either flavour, i would rather like to have a little girl. I think this dream sort of punctuates that dream. She would be the apple of her daddy's eye. Adored by both her parents. and maybe just a little spoiled.

Ode to maternity wear

2008-05-26T12:58:00.001+02:00

The joy! The wonder! The comfort!

I never knew comfort until I tried on some maternity wear over the weekend. It was wonderful.

My body has gone into some form of rebellion against my clothes. My clothes are losing the battle. Everything is tight; the zips of my pants have decided that closing is for the birds. My tops have decided that hugging my belly bulge is all they feel like doing. Comfort went out the door.

And she who is not comfy in her clothes, will not be relaxed, or be confident.

Enter maternity clothes: The great war mediator. The negotiator. The saviour of my comfort zone.

2 grand later, I am finally comfy in my new threads.

Brief interjection

2008-05-23T14:12:00.000+02:00

The spawning of this blog was a direct result of a feeling of misdirection and general confusion. I felt this new development deserved it's own venting space. A new creation for a new life. And, as such, this did not belong in the padded cage.

So, therefore, herewith, the lunar eclipse / making of / progression of --> a hybrid baby. Or, where ebony meets ivory - an unexpected clash. Or, new beginnings. Or, the life and times of spontaneous unplanned implantation of a hybrid kind. Or, Ye olde hybred bastardisatione.

I figured "Hybrid theory" would probably have copyright issues attached. Who woulda thunk it. I sure as L didn't.

And, therefore, i now present, from a barren wasteland of fruitlessness: the prodigious progeny of prolific proportions.

(Pardon all the puns...)

Weak at 11

2008-05-23T13:53:00.000+02:00

This pregnancy thing is a bit disconcerting. There have been mingled responses. From shock to joy to amusement. It has all been rather … weird.

The fatigue and pukey-ness has died down for now. Notice how I did not say it has disappeared. Crackerbread early in the morning does the trick; Take one every morning and repeat as necessary.

My clothes have for the most part fallen into disuse. It sort of hurts me on the inside, when I look at that pair of hot boots that go so well with my skinny jeans… Those same skinny jeans that are now in a state of mutiny – simply refusing to close around my waist. It may be time to start having a closer look at my diet. Choose healthier options. Too much gorging.

My online research shows that different women start showing at different times, and at different sizes. For a myriad reasons. I, for example, gained 5kg’s in 2 weeks, but have since stabilised. Despite the variances from girl to girl, there are averages one must take into consideration. For example, in the first 2 months, you shouldn’t gain more than 30% of your total 10 – 12kg pregnancy gain. Towards the last 3 months, one should be gaining about a kg a week. Or something. (I can’t remember if it’s a pound or a kg per week. Stupid Americans with their pound system)

This weekend, there will be much shopping and looking around bridal stores. The wedding “due date” approaches with record speed. Also, final talks with various medical aids have been concluded today. They don’t cover much. Not much at all – even when you consider that this was, for all intents and purposes, an accident.

I am stoked for the next doctor’s visit and sonar. I’m hoping to find out the flavour. I’m at about 11 weeks now. Legend has it you can see as early as 12, but really only at 20 weeks. I don’t wanna waste a sonar. Those things are expensive. But, I am dying to find out. There are names to be chosen!

And, in the back of my mind, I can’t help but wonder, what have I gotten myself into?

I'm Preggers

2008-05-07T09:33:00.000+02:00

It has been 2 weeks since the fateful day that i received the news.

i'd skipped one, something that never happens to me. so, i went for a quick bloodtest, during lunch. i mean, why not. R100 later, "It's positive, congratulations."

It's been a tumultuous 2 weeks since.

The boyfriend drove from his place of residence (a 3 hour trip), and took a day's leave to come be with me. i was pretty shaken up. a call to his father in malaysia, and his parents are home that weekend, to lecture, encourage, interrogate.

his father will not be a conspirator, so my parents must be told.

rewind to a week ago, and one shocking email to my dad. my mom called me that night, seething. i have thrown my life away, made myself cheap. "I'm not that young, mom." My dad was in shock, he told all his siblings.

Fast forward to last weekend, spent on the farm. cousins, uncles aunts, brother, boyfriend, all gathered for the sake of the farm. nothing was said, but that is the style of the family.

and currently, what does the future hold? on sunday, there will be a meet and greet between my parents and his. who will all attend, remains to be seen. there will be negotiations. of what exactly, also remains to be seen.

yesterday i went for a sonar. i saw the fishy, chilling in my gut, swimming around. i heard the heartbeat, saw it. and i smiled.

further blood tests reveal that i am 100% healthy, as is my growing parasite. i'm 8 weeks and 3 days into this thing. the nausea and tiredness lessen when i take my vitamins. i wish i didnt have to work. i get so tired. my mind is a fuzzy mess. i'm just SO tired.

my loving and adoring bf is very excited, stoked really. there will be a birth and a wedding. wrong sequence, but... the modern world allows for this sort of thing. it will not be too much of a scandal.

of two things i am sure -- i am going to have this baby. and, there will be a wedding.

i've picked up 5kg's in rather quick succession over the last 8 weeks. my stomach has become a bit round. but, it doesn't look suspicious yet. few people on my mother's side of the extended family know, but this will soon change, no doubt. juicy news seldom stays secret.

i have obtained a scrapbooking kit and a digital camera for the progress of this gestation and eventual popping. i'm having difficulty taking pictures of my ever expanding stomach. the quality is less than great. i suspect this has more to do with my n00b status, than the camera itself. i will look into it at greater length when i have more time.

i need to buy glue and print pictures.

how do i feel about it?
I don't know, really. It's daunting and scary, but exciting. maybe some form of maternal instinct will kick in. i have no preferance of flavour, be it strawberry or bubblegum. i just want to do my best to ensure my parasite comes out rosy cheeked and plump.

can pregnant ladies imbibe energy drinks?