It's every where. Ev-er-y fricking where. Noah's face leaks constantly, and I swear, I'm too scared to touch half the burpees lying around because I know they're plastered in huge boogers and greenies and other disgustingly gross things.

Don't get me wrong, I'm obviously very sad that he's poorly, especially as he doesn't sleep at night either because he spends most of his time coughing through it. That frustrates me so much I guess because I'm helpless; it's kinda difficult to teach your kid to cough out even more F.O.F. to help clear his throat, ya know?

The best comes when you try to wipe his face, which he obviously depises, and turns his face at the worst possible moment. This usual results in a nice streak of F.O.F. across a cheek, in his ear, and if he's particularly pissy, through his hair too.

There have been too many times when I've commented on the amount of food in Noah's hair, gone to pick it out and then realised, all too late, what it really is. Mmmmmm...did you request crusty or gloopy today ma'am?

So yes, he's still very sick, and letting us all know about it. His tantrums are crazy when he has them, and I guess because he's out of sorts, they seem to be coming thick and fast, quite often out of the blue. He's also become especially good at being incredibly defiant (NO idea where he gets that from) and then watching you to see what the hell you're gonna do about it.

Noah: (hey bitch, watch me steal a bauble from your tree, NYAH!)

Me: Noah, no touch.

N: (Yeah I hear ya, I see ya...oh hey look moms! Bauble! In mah hand! YEAH!)

Me: Noah, NO TOUCH.

N: (And looky! See how I got two baubles and now I'mma kick a third one off? Watch me now!)


N: (Hey, what? Ya say summat? ...might even pull this punk-ass tree over now...)

And so it goes on. I'm operating zero tolerance in the desperate hope that I do not have a child that grows up into an evil delinquent that leaves turds in the plant pots and steals anything from me on a regular basis (uh, I should add I'm watching Brat Camp at the minute...it's uh, reassuring?)

It's harder I think because I want to help him, to give him cuddles and say "all better, mommy loves you", and all he wants to do is punch his way off my lap and go find his dad/attack the tree/throw a fit/snot everywhere. It's kinda like he turned into a teenager when I wasn't looking, which I find quite scary given he's not even one yet (OMG he is ONE next WEEK people. NEXT. FREAKING. WEEK.)

I admit - I miss my baby, but I hope he sure as hell feels better soon. It's hard to so desperately want to help someone when there are so many misunderstandings in the way. I'm also running out of burpees and I'm worried we're going to drown in the gunk.
So for those of you who couldn't be bothered to read up, here is some of the Christmas holiday in pictures. Enjoy :o)

Christmas Eve with a cold and round one of gifts. Good start!

I'd like to point out the shiny face, courtesy of excess facial orifice fluid.

Skilled demonstration in opening someone else's presents.

This was the only time he sat still long enough for me to snap a pic of him with his whizzing car.

Christmas Day was highly amusing

And I swear this WAS stuffed with toys, but they kinda disappeared, making it look really lame. Well, he didn't even notice anyone. Dude doesn't even know.

Behold! The Mini Santa and all his Kid Attitude Cuteness!!!

Sometime even Santa likes a cuddle from his mum.

He refused to open this present without using his own specific methods.

We're quite sure there's reason, but for a long time, we'll probably never be sure what that reason was.

Besides, who the hell were we to argue with this kid???!
Boxing Day - DONE! Everyone present and accounted for.

I planned to do nothing today. I refused to cook. Mr Forman did bacon butties for me and D. I refused to run around after people. M+FIL cooked dinner of goose and a million different veg. In fact, for the day, my biggest effort came in opening the rest of the presents from the family (I can't believe we opened presents for three days in a row) and making sure Noah didn't destroy his cousin's Wii (hey, well, ya know, if you will get it out in front of him...)

It was a great day! Noah sat in a booster chair at the table throughout the whole meal and ate -uh, well, he just ate. And ate. And then I believe he ate some more. He started off with his crackers, then he had a portion of my parsnip soup, then some carrots, parsnip, tasted a sprout, 3 digestive biscuits, 2 smoothie pouches, chunks of apple, a fruit stick, mouthfuls of ice cream and his first taste of chocolate and alsoa chocolate biscuit!! Funnily enough, he licked all the chocolate off the biscuit.

All that was just for lunch. He managed to outlast both his older cousins at the table; it was a sight to behold. I think he was sat at the table, or at least non-stop eating from about 1:30 - 3pm. What I couldn't understand was how he was still able to eat his tea (slice of toast, crispy puffs, fruit stick and a jelly) that same evening, only 2 hours later. He found it amusing that he spent the evening passing gas and smirked every time he let go of a good one...man I love that kid!

We've all had some great gifts (which, if any readers sent any, I thank you very much indeed), all eaten tons of food (and still eating some - ham, egg and chips for tea today, freezer now full of pea and ham soup, duck still in fridge), watched some utterly crap tv and spent far too much time in front of a very large computer screen (yeah, uh, did I mention my iMac? Yeah got one for xmas ya know...).

Noah still exercises his tantrums, we've all been feeling quite shit with Cold & Flu v7.4, I'm fast approaching the Land of No Sleep and the house reeeeeeeeeeally needs a tidy up...but it's been a great couple of days.

I even spoke to Mr L yesterday to thank him for our gifts (car and football for Noah, bottle of rum for D, duvet for me. I'm sure I caught the short-ish straw, but hey it'll be good for when I finally give up the bed and go to the sofa). He was really pleased to hear from me which was nice, even if it did feel a little odd after so many years. I've promised I'd take Noah and D round to see him on Sunday, especially as we all seem to be making an effort. I feel strangely pleased with myself!

Noah's first Christmas, me and D's first Christmas as parents, first fully multiple family Christmas - DONE.
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Christmas Day - DONE. Boxing day to go.

Sweet Jesus have I ever been stressed? Did I ever seem stressed to you in any of my blog entries? Cos if I did, they sure as hell didn't compare to Christmas day. I think I spent most of the day in the kitchen, sticking my head around the door only occasionally to see if Noah was still enjoying his day.

Thankfully I still managed my menu, today's menu being Crab with Mango Salsa at about 1pm whilst his Mini Lordship ate pea and ham soup (you know that ham will live forever. Or at least until I find it green and mouldy at the back of the fridge). Then I somehow managed to cook a thousand different vegetables (some added as a last minute requests - not amused!) with the duck which was lovely but had approximately zilcho fat on it. That could have been interesting given I had planned to cook it for 3½ hours. Hmm, duck biscuits anyone? All that in time for dinner at about 5:30pm; what concerns me is that I was only cooking for D and myself! Going to be interesting should I get round to cooking mass family dinners...

But most importantly of course....was my BRAND SPANKING NEW iMAC!!

Oh no wait, there's something else -

Oh yes, Noah! Noah's first Christmas. We dressed him up in his Santa baby grow (cos he's nearly not a baby anymore and so we're allowed to do it so bite me all you folks who rolled your eyes. Here, have your eyes back) and demonstrated how to open one or two presents. He soon cottoned on how to open the rest, though for some reason he felt he couldn't open them without first climbing on top of the present. We are yet to understand this.

But still! He enjoyed everything so much, and again was almost gasping with excitement at some of the stuff he got, including a hammer and peg blocks, a composing piano thing, some brightly coloured things, some car things with wheels and stuff, and some er, stuff. You know, stuff for him to play with. He seemed to enjoy them!

D and I were quite surprised that he showed more interest in the toys than the boxes and paper, which was NOT what we were expecting to be quite honest. In fact, I think he became ridiculously over stimulated and what with a vile cold, two popping teeth and his lovely tamtrums, it all became a bit too much by early afternoon. But that's ok! He's a crazy kid who clearly doesn't know how to switch off yet; we ended up cuddling in front of My Friends Tigger & Pooh on tv and comfort burpee. Some things are just so cute.

Needless to say minutes later he was back to propelling himself around the room trying to decide which toy to play with next.

It was a great day, if a little manic, and it sucked being pregnant again and desperately trying to stay on my feet when all I wanted to do was sleep. Sure I knew it would be hard work, and I pray to lucifer and my George Forman grill that I won't be doing it again next year, but the day was lovely, and even though he hadn't a clue what was going on, it was great to see Noah enjoying his new toys.

Funnily enough we put a stocking in his cot with some toys in it for him to play with on Christmas morning. Poor kid was so tired (and oddly enough is so well behaved in the mornings) that he hadn't even touched it by the time we went in, so we did the "kids in parents bed on xmas morning" thing and helped him pull them out. He was so cute with it! Think he enjoyed shouting at his talking JCB dumper digger truck thing (I dunno, ask his dad, he's the engineer...)

As for my iMac, well of course it's delicious and lovely and delicious. There really isn't much else to say, apart from that. And it's awesome and huge. And did I say delicious? I've spent most evening on it downstairs before it goes in the study (where I may hibernate for the rest of my life). What's nice is that in a strange and unexpected way, it's given me some more ideas on what to do with myself in the future. Crazy, I know, but it's incentive.

Merry Christmas!
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Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 23+1 day
Month: 6
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 21 weeks
Heartbeat: 149 bpm
Time to Go: 119 days
Size: The Christmas Ham?

Christmas Eve - DONE. Christmas day and Boxing day to go.

Feeling very smug with myself after today. I reflected upon my Christmas Menu for today, and quietly shat my pants (which is actually a possibility now, thanks fibresure!) at extravagance of the menu, and the ham which was roughly the same size as Noah (can't decide between Noah 'then', or Noah 'now').

However, after realising that the ham was really not going to fit into the largest pot I own, even after trying to boil it for an hour, I gave up and cosied it in foil then shoved it in the oven. For 6 hours. To this very minute, I still don't know how much it weighed, and I didn't take any pictures of it, possibly because I was scared it would object.

But what matters, on this very special Christmas eve, is that I'm now down to half a ham, and should hopefully only be eating it until next summer, all being well. *

My mum came round and got drunk on Baileys; just awesome. She doesn't get loud and in your face, she doesn't get violent, she doesn't even just quietly go to sleep in a corner...no...she just gets...kinda stupid. She has this awesome ability to spout utter crap, it's just awesome. It's often worth getting her drunk just to sit back and watch.

Noah, though having his moments (hey, he's ill! And he's a kid. He's allowed), has been great today. He was beside himself with excitement after opening three of his presents already (for Nana's benefit of course); a whizzing whirring car from his Granddad (my side), a big bouncy ball from Mama and Dada and a musical foot steps piano (think of the film 'Big') from Nana. He could barely contain himself!

Plus he had a whole serving of my soup which he loved (and I know he did because he told me) and then devoured a load of peas and some ham for his tea. We've been having some major food hassles lately so it was a monster sigh of relief to see him eat with comparatively minimal fuss (and some crazy new expressions).

Didn't get to do the pears, D had to drive Mum home (and those are some seriously alcoholic pears...) so they're on hold...but I don't care. Even if tomorrow sucks, today has still been great. Bring on the next two days!

*All ham recipes/ideas/suggestions welcomed and appreciated. There's only so much pea and ham soup a person can eat I think...
Ok maybe a million other bloggers have probably already posted about this, but I just had to share, Because cringeworthy as it is, it's actually very true.

Only the baby should be pictured with razor blades for teeth.

(Shift+Click on the image for a larger version)

I would like to work for these people...
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It's Christmas eve tomorrow, Noah's Nana will be spending the day (open some presents), then it's Christmas day (Noah's first xmas and open some more presents) and then it's Boxing day round the Grandparents (open even more presents).

I get to dress Noah in his smart blue knitted jumper and jeans tomorrow, his Santa all-in-one on Xmas day and his smart stripey shirt, red jumper and brown cords on Friday. He's a dude.

This week I'm cooking:

Christmas Eve
Roasted Ham & Garden Vegetables
Port & Vanilla Pears

Christmas Day
Crab with Mango Salsa
Roast Duck & Seasonal Vegetables
Christmas Pudding

I have all presents bought and nearly all wrapped up (some can wait, I'll take my time...). All Christmas cards written and mailed.

One of the greatest things in the last three years (in relation to work) happened yesterday: my p45 arrived.

I'm free, skint, got a kid with a serious amount of snot, I can barely poop (up the fibresure dosage), house is a tip, second kid on the way, have some big choices to make...and yet I'm still kinda happy.

Not sure I'll see you before, so have a great Christmas!!!

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Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 22+6 days
Month: 6
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 21 weeks
Heartbeat: 151 bpm
Time to Go: 119 days
Size: Papaya. You know what? I think I'm going make up my own from now on. Let's say, big enough to kick my bladder and poke just below rib cage simultaneously. All idea contributions welcome.

Returned from a weekend away with D and Noah at the Elms Hotel. Now, I may have gotten minimal sleep as a result of Noah sharing our room and thus coughing and babbling both nights, and D snoring in the coughing and babbling gaps, but I have to say, if you have children and fancy a family stay in a VERY nice luxury hotel, I totally recommend this place.

I don't feel particularly rested (because I didn't sleep...did I mention this?) but I do feel surprisingly relaxed. I've never known ay hotel bend over backwards to look after babies and children!

D in all his loving wisdom booked me a Mama Mio Spa treatment, and then treated me to the same kit to use at home (The Smoothie Spa-at-Home Kit), as well as the Super Rich Body Cream and Tummy Rub Stretch Mark Butter. I think I may have found a new love. I love the products because they're designed specially for pregnant ladies and mamas; they smell and feel GREAT.

Much as I still love and use my trusty Lush products and Bio Oil, there's something about Mama Mio that makes me think, "Hmmm...yes, this is indeed, The Shit." Chances are someones going to tell me that the products are full of god knows what and my skin will fall off if I continue to use them, and I'll probably gain another 70lbs in additional, uh, skin. But I don't care, it's LUVERLY.

Moving on to my Button Pressing Fascination (seriously, if anyone knows of an official word for this, I would really like to know) I still haven't pressed The Button in my car, but I did try out another button, known as Cruise Control. Now that there is some creepy shit. What the hell is up with letting your car drive itself. Does no one else find that the craziest thing ever? Ok so I was only doing 50mph, on the motorway through some traffic restrictions, and very nearly shat myself when I took my foot off the accelerator and the car just carried on going (yes I KNOW cruise control supposed to do that) but seriously...you know..?!

Lastly, I'm finally embracing the hair.

Yap, it's short.

And I actually use clips in it.

But hey! I look strangely young, and given that 30 looms around the corner, I sure ain't complaining.
Why isn't it Friday yet?

Why don't I just nap when Noah does? (especially when it's for 2½ hours...)

Why do I have yet another cold?

Why is there no cure for the common cold?

Why is Noah in ultimate "I can behave like the Spawn of Satan" mode?

If he's teething, why can't the damn teeth just come through already?

Can I possibly publish this post without attaching a picture of him in all his cuteness?

Why is my SPD not so bad this time round?

Am I tempting fate asking that last question?

Do I think I'm having a girl or just secretly subconsciously wishing for one?

Will I be able to drink myself into oblivion Christmas 2009?

Exactly what size trousers should I be in?

Will I get round to writing the rest of the Christmas cards?

Will I get them mailed on time?

Could I be getting an iMac this year?

Is that some serious wishful thinking?

Will either DH or I pull our finger out anytime soon?

Am I within my rights to pull down the hateful "For Sale" sign outside our house?

Will I ever post a picture of my new hair do?

Will I ever look back at my previous job with a certain fondness?

Will I finally change career direction?

...will Noah eat the potato wedges and quiche that I'm so lovingly baking for him? (Ok the quiche is from Tesco's)

Will he in fact ever eat spoon food with lumps in it?

Should I care given he happily eats finger foods?

Hmmm....ok that's enough for now, answers on a postcard (or preferably in the comments).

Many thanks.

"Mom. Easy on the questions, yeh? Get over it."
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Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 21+6 days
Month: 6
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 20 weeks
Heartbeat: 137 bpm
Time to Go: 126 days
Size: Large banana. Or pehaps I agree with The Soapbox Diva. Somewhere between Ford Fiesta and Volkswagon.

A lot of things have been happening lately which are starting to make me realise how time is flying by, and how much I appreciate Noah. I'm not sure when it all started, but I do know it has something to do with Noah turning one in a few weeks time. 3 weeks and 1 day, roughly.

I'm not freaking out, quite the opposite, I'm looking forward to it. D and I still often wonder where the hell our little newborn baby went, or even, did we have a little newborn baby in the first place given he never really was one.

We've already bought his birthday presents, and he is obviously oblivious to everything going on. But things that have happened lately seem to have gotten me thinking. My mother is determined to buy him a potty for Christmas. Why? Uh...I haven't a clue. This of course is the kid who isn't really 1 yr yet, or has any concept of some of the frightening things that go on in his nappy. But it's something we have to think about in the (probably not to distant) future.

D and I have been looking at nurseries and schools. One school which we're both seriously keen on takes kiddies from the age of 2 into their nursery, so he would stand a better chance getting into the actual (private) school. It's glorious. And they have an open day. In January. He's not even 1 and we're having to think about open days, sweet Jesus. But I'm strangely excited about it.

Noah went to his cousin's birthday party on Friday in a big play centre, and of course didn't have a clue what was going on, but thoroughly enjoyed playing in the soft play area for under 5's. You know, an area that has a tiny ball pool, padded blocks and tiny tunnel for babies up to about 2½, and then huge slides and climbing frames and padded dangling boulder things for 3 - 5's to throw themselves into. Now I'm quite sure you can guess the area that Noah played in. To the point where he cried when I tried to take him to the more, er, "appropriate" area. He was NOT interested. So huge slides, climbing frames and padded dangling boulder things it was to be. It was so much fun!

Saturday he went for his last swimming lesson for the year, and seems to learn most things first time round. He still hates being on his back, but he can now swim short distances underwater unaided, hold on to the side unsupported, kick on command, tries to blow bubbles and is completely unphased with repeated underwater "dunkings". He has a huge grin on his face every time I splash him into the pool and he tries to hold on to the side on command. He's not neccessarily advanced, but he's learnt an incredible amount in his very short lifetime.

Yesterday I took him round to mum's church so say hi, and thought about how his birth was announced at the In-Laws church (where he was said to have weighed 15lbs 10oz. I think not somehow.) And then realised that was nearly a year ago. And also the fact that he's grown so very much since then.

Shortly after we whisked our way over to a friends party with all the NCT parents and babies. It was loads of fun, but I couldn't help but compare Noah to the other babies. Sure it's great that he walks so easily and has done for a while. I was fully aware that he was always in our line of sight, but for me it wasn't to make sure that he was ok; no, no. It was to make sure he wasn't pulling the host's house apart. Or purposely clocking another kid on the head with a large toy he had chosen to carry. Or indeed, trying to steal food off someone's plate. Or throw a cup of tea across the room. Or whatever.

He's so mischievous, it's the sort of behaviour I would associate with a 2 year old, maybe 3. Or maybe I'm just being left behind. I know there are people who could be reading this and saying exactly the same things about their kids at this age, but when the hell did it creep up on me like this? D and I marvel at everything he does, every single day. Like yesterday when I took his socks off outside his room, and he spent the next 5 minutes feeling the difference in the landing amd nursery carpets with his feet.

I hate pushing him to do things that mean growing up faster, I much prefer to marvel at everything he already does. So many parents push for their kids to crawl, walk, talk etc, and exclaim how happy I must have been to have Noah walk so early. Sure I was happy, but also it was another blow because my baby was disappearing so quickly. He's a toddler now. Yesterday, I saw many babies, or near toddlers, but to me, Noah seemed to stand out as nothing but a toddler. Running around and shouting at people, crying when he didn't get his own way and usually unphased whenever he fell over. Hell, I've never been phased when he fell over. It always makes me smile when people go to grab him thinking he's about to fall over, when all he's doing is just trying to run and play.

I'm excited that he's just started signing (drink, all done, full up, milk, eat and thanks to Little Einsteins, Blast Off!). It was so lovely listening to the other mums talking about what their babies were all doing, but felt like it was all expected of Noah already...though I'm not sure why. I obviously get very excited about his achievements and I try not to brag about them. Sometimes I can't face the slight disappointment I feel when I sense the "Yeah, and? It's Noah. What were you expecting?".

I wasn't expecting anything. Just for my kid to be as awesome as he always is, no matter what he does!
Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 21+1 day
Month: 5
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 19 weeks
Heartbeat: 136 bpm
Time to Go: 129 days
Size: Banana, which really means, small car.

I did it. The hair....the extensions...the braids...have gone. I have these crazy, twisty little...micro braid things. I look...10. It's very unnerving.

I haven't done anything drastic with my hair for a VERY long time, and I'm wondering how long I actually stick this out for. I'd take a pic...but I'm not sure about that yet. Stupid, yeh I know...I've already been out today...but hey, it's a big step introducing yourself to the rest of the world with what feels like an almost bald head!!

Ok not really bald, I guess I can brag that I've been flicking it out of my eyes all afternoon, and that it does come down to the bottom of my ears. But I've gone from ass-length fake to ear-length real! Maybe that's why I'm not beside myself with despair; because it's a LOT longer than I thought it would be, which I'm VERY pleased about.

Ok, now to decide what to do with a lot of fake hair sitting in a box.

Uh, there's something I never thought I'd say in a hurry...

ETA: I still haven't pushed the button. Why? Well, uh, can you believe I forgot about it today???
Let's ditch the pregnancy hormones, ok? I am so over feeling like some kind of emotional wreck, swinging back and forth from 'Happy as Larry', to 'Back Off Bitch Before I Rip Your Face Clean Off With My Teeth and Feed You to My Inner Gremlins'.

I apologise to anyone who may have felt the slightly rough side of my mood swings. Cut me a bit of slack and help me out a bit, pretty please?
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Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 21+0 days
Month: 5
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 19 weeks
Heartbeat: 140 bpm
Time to Go: 131 days
Size: Banana. I swear I am so confuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuused.

Yeah see, I don't really know what to write about. I could gloat about how this is the first time I've ever completed all my xmas shopping BEFORE xmas. And did the majority of it without even facing the general public (thank you so very much google and amazon, you have both saved my life).

Or I could comment on how I've actually managed to START my xmas cards, and have point blank refused to do D's xmas cards this year.

Or maybe we could discuss how I am FINALLY going to remove the braids/extensions from my hair (after some...15 years?) and possibly grow it out in locs or something similar, ideally starting BEFORE xmas. That could be interesting.

Or we could talk about good old Poopgate. Yes, yes, I'm back on the Fibresure (and I gotta say, K your reply to my last blog made me nearly wet myself with laughter. Still exercising bladder control here, ok??!) I gotta say I think it's great how it's become such a source of amusement, even to D the other night while discussing dinner.

J: I want those processed tinned peas MMMMMMMM

D: We don't have any of those peas in the cupboard, I checked

J: (goes to cupboard, instantly finds a tin of processed peas)

D: I swear that wasn't there a second ago! You must've put it there. Where did you get it from?

J: I pulled it out of my ass.

D: Given the way your ass is, that'd be a fine trick.

J: ...thanks...

So I'm on 2 Fibresure a day, and Noah is bored of trailing me to the bathroom everytime I need to go. Poor kid...I bet he wonders why the hell he gets to spend so much time running around on the landing between the bathroom and his nursery, and throwing his toys into an empty bath.

OR maybe we could talk about how the hell I got to 21 weeks and didn't even see it coming. Like, all of a sudden, Suprise!! Ta daaa!! You're over halfway! And did you know you'll have your baby in about 4 months? Yes! After the new year, you will have approximately no time because you'll be running around like a crazy woman trying to organize the lives of you, Noah and D and then before you know it, you'll have a baby. Yes! Baby!!


We could discuss the fact that I'm borderline obsessing about the button in my car marked VSA which apparently doesn't do very much but I still haven't pressed it but would reeeeeeeeally like to and how I can't find a technical term for someone who has an obsession for pushing buttons.
Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 20+4 days
Month: 5
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 19 weeks
Heartbeat: 139 bpm
Time to Go: 135 days
Size: Canteloupe. You're shittin' me, right?



IT'S A...



Nope, sorry peeps, didn't find out the gender. But we did find out it looks quite like Skeletor.

And it's going to be a ballet dancer. Or maybe a boxer.

Either way it's cute with a round head and squishy cheeks already and a spine and stuff.

There were no clues whatsover regarding gender, and we didn't ask either. We couldn't believe how much it was moving around though; we actually watched it flip over so it's back was upwards, legs and arms all over the place. Mme Sonographer looked, um, bemused when she measured the head. Then commenced a conversation which sounded familiar to us:

Mme Sonographer: Uh...I'm just going to measure the head again.

Me: Yep, that's fine.

D: Yeah I think we're used to that.

Mme S: So you're not surprised if it's meauring big?

Me: Nope. Noah was pretty much 11lbs when he was born.

Mme S: ...excuse me??

So on my charts T.O.O. is measuring nearly 1½ weeks early. Oh and hey! Guys!! Remember all you folks from last time when I said "yeah yeah, it's measuring WEEKS ahead, and I think it's gonna be huge" and you were all, like "Oh ya, they say that to everyone" and I was like, "No but seriously, this thing is HUGE!" and you were all like "ya...whatever, get over it now" and then I gave birth to a GIANT and you were all, kinda like, "Uh, wtf?".

And I was like "BITCHES!"

So yeah uh, maybe this time we'll JUST WAIT AND SEE huh? I had an appointment with the consultant registrar yesterday and we discussed Pushing the Button. Needless to say, she made the world's biggest issue about Shoulder Dystocia, which I fully understood and appreciated. I was kinda sad at the same time, because I felt a bit like I was being goaded into going to hospital, and she seemed to miss the point that actually, everything could go ok.

BUT, of course I understand why she was doing it. She has to cover her own back, I have to be sensible and realistic, and (quote) she doesn't want me to blame them if it all went wrong. That I can understand.

I guess the biggest things for me are the facts that:

  • I've done it once, I can do it again.
  • I will freak the fuck out if I have to give birth in hospital.
  • 2nd babies aren't always bigger.
  • Shoulder Dystocia occurs in about 1% of births.
I'm stubborn, I'm fully aware of that. However, I also know how I function, and what the hell scares me, and what the hell doesn't. Lady Registrar could clearly see that I was trying to make sensible decisions, and that I wouldn't try to be a hero if things started to go wrong. In agreement, however, we'll be having growth scans at 28 and 30 weeks.

Sure I don't want a Caesarian, but I'm not about to endanger my life or more importantly T.O.O.'s life for the sake of a home birth. But surely it's not quite fair to predict doom and gloom on any birth when let's face it; every single birth in the world is filled with a certain number of risks.

There's an irony to be had here. With Noah, I regularly told health professionals that it was going to be huge. No one listened. No one batted an eyelid. In fact they told me not to be silly. Now I'm still all laid back and just want to get on with it, no panic in my eyes, cool and confident. And they're all shitting themselves.

Does that even begin to make sense to you?
First of all, before anything else, can I just say thank you so much to all those who responded to my last post. I appreciate ALL responses, and it was so reassuring to have that reminder that there are actually people who do still give a shit (about me) because a lot of the time I forget.

So, thanks.

Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 18+4 days
Month: 5
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 17 weeks
Heartbeat: 141 bpm
Time to Go: 149 days
Size: Sweet potato. Ok I cooked some of these earlier and there were like, 5 different sizes. I pick the smallest.
Time til Big Scan: 11 days

After that post, unfortunately things took an unpleasant turn. In that fab way I do, I'm all happy smiles at the moment, but I'm still not quite sure what's bubbling away in the back of my mind. I do know that I can't keep going through all of this; I'm fast running out of stamina (or may have run out already) and I'm particularly scared about my future (in many, many ways).

D and I are still together, I still have my boy, and my baby. The three of them seem to be doing ok. D perhaps has a slightly better understanding of what's going on, but I don't know to what extent. Noah of course is being great again, he has his off moments and he still uses tantrums when he can (it's what they do, right?) but I'm trying my best to ignore them in the hope they'll maybe fade out in about 15 years time.

MW #2 had fun trying to find The Other One's heartbeat this week; it wouldn't keep still long enough (dear sweet Lord, please spare us...) and after 5 minutes she very nearly gave up. But hey, at least she knew where to look (and skimming through that post, it concerns me that a year later I still have a strong desire to shoot the neighbours. Noisy stupid whores).

There's loads more I could say, but not right now I think. So instead, here are a bunch of pictures off my lovely new phone, whilst I go and wait for my Chinese food to arrive. I am the healthiest person alive.

ACK. The cuteness.

!revliS oh iH

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I realised today that there's an awful lot of shit going on with me, which I appear to kinda of shove uner that fabled carpet and try not to upset anyone with it. Unfortunately, as of late, I'm realising that shit just really doesn't work.

Most of what's happening, I should have known was going to happen, or I should have learnt to deal with it by now. Deal with it and move on.

But I swear to the gods I am on the verge of losing my marbles.

None of this will make much sense, I guess, but hear me out. A bit.

I know, (hope and desperately pray) that most of what's whizzing around in my head is as a direct result of the pregnancy. Those joyful hormones that have plagued us women for faaaaaaarrrrr to fricking long. I'm tired of being "On the Edge" all the time, I'm tired of crying over things that normally wouldn't phase me, I'm tired of being told I'm doing a great job and then have random people offer their opinion on what I should really be doing. Hell, I'm just tired of being god damned tired.

Yes I am WELL aware that pregnancy is exhausting, especially with a child who is 10 months going on 16 yrs. But what makes me sad here, is that much as I adore Noah to bits, and think that he is quite possibly the coolest kid ever to exist in the history of children, I'm starting to resent him a little.

It breaks my heart to type these words, and I'd want him (and anyone else) to know that he means more to me than anything else in the Whole. Entire. World.

But lately...I dunno. Lately I feel like I have to force myself to really connect with him, or to have time for him. And it's not even his fault. He's just 10 months old. He deserves a mum who not only gives a genuine shit about him, but surely should be able to do it without sometimes feeling it's the greatest upheaval ever.

I hate myself for thinking things like this, and I know it's only a temporary thing, but why should I even be thinking or feeling them in the first place? I can't stand it.

I've felt so disappointed in myself lately. I mentally bitch about everyone else all the time, how I feel like I have to do everything or give instructions to everyone else, and how it feels like it's always me who has to run the show and make sure that everything runs smoothly, because no one else seems to do it. And if things don't run smoothly, then it is my fault and no one else seems willing to take the blame anyway.

And then I have to take a back step and make a huuuuge effort to remind myself about all the things that everyone else has done for me/us/him. Sad to say, sometimes it doesn't feel like that much. I guess I often feel let down, and even though I've been living with that for years (spontaneous support from my own immediate family rarely occurs) you'd think I'd be used to it by now; but some part of me always stupidly (and naively) seems to hold out hope. I guess that just makes me even more sad.

There are too many things going on right now that I think test to some extreme limits every single day. Which is a bitch, because it's getting to the point where I contemplate leaving. Me and Noah, packing our stuff, and moving somewhere so far away, not even D or my own family (should they choose to make an effort) would find me.

I know running away isn't the answer, and I couldn't even do it anyway, for sooo many reasons I couldn't even begin to list them here. Right now I don't know what the answer is. I go to counselling every so often to deal with all the work crap going on in my head (and oh my god THERE'S a whole chapter in it's own right) and I'm now finding her useless. Especially when she calls me Joy. I'm starting to wonder if maybe she's playing some kind of psychological mind game with me...

So that's failing me. I don't have any "just around the corner" friends who I feel close enough to, who would listen to me vent, nod in all the right places and tell me whatever it is I need to hear, without adding a nice dollop of assvice. I realised that no one actually knows enough about me personally to listen and help me in the way that's best for me. Or, maybe they do, but can't be arsed to listen to my shit. D does his best to listen when I finally let off steam, but usually, 10 minutes after it all, it's like I never even opened my mouth, and I'm often back to square one, with an extra side order of sheer frustration.

I'm amazed at how angry, frustrated and annoyed I feel with everyone and everything, including myself. I try to tell myself every day that whatever decision I make for Noah is the right decision, but of course I know I make mistakes. Who the hell doesn't? But sometimes it's so hard to hear someone else's opinion and how it's made to sound like you're the Worst Mother Ever (I once joked with a friend about how we should put together a website called badmommies .com, only to discover that it had a very questionable porn affiliation attached to the very idea. Soooooo baaaaaad.)*

I'm tired of...hmmm...I think I'm tired of busting my ass, getting minimal thanks, next to no recognition for it and not really getting the relief when I truly need it. I'd like to think that I don't ask for help that often (it's a rarity, to be honest), so perhaps it would be a bit easier to help because hopefully I'm not so demanding...I don't frigging know. I warned this wouldn't make much sense. Hell, I've managed to confuse myself now, so lord only knows where I'm going.

One thing I will say which terrifies me to the very pit of my growing stomach, is that I cannot possibly see how I am going to cope with two. I have no idea how I am going to run the show, when it often feels like I have to run other lives without time for my own.

There are so many things I want to quit, in the hope of giving me a fighting chance, to spend the time with my family and give them the time they deserve. But I know I can't quit them yet; the guilt would just consume me to all new realms, it's not the right time, I'd regret it, gahhhh tha list goes on.

I have a rehearsal later, and as I can't remember the last time I had a shower (seriously, no lie), I may just take this opportunity to pretend to do that mad thing where you hope you can wash all your troubles away.

Or maybe, I'll just take a shower and hope to smell nice, even though I couldn't tell because it's now been near on four days since my sense of taste and smell have been dulled by this mother puppy cold.

If you made it this far, then thanks.

* You'll note I made sure this WASN'T a hyperlink...didn't fancy the idea of linking to very dodgy (I assume) porn, thanks.
Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 17+6 days
Month: 5
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 16 weeks
Heartbeat: 146 bpm
Time to Go: 154 days
Size: Onion. I don't get it.
Time til Big Scan: 16 days

We have a new addition to our happy home!! Yes, it's called "Noah's Tantrums". They involve screaming, crying, hurling objects across the room, thrashing of hands and feet and zero cooperation.

Until he realises (as of yesterday) that actually he won't get his way anymore, and then flops himself on me for a cuddle. Yes I hear it...


Me: ...


Me: ... *cough* ... (cos I'm still ill with bird flu)

N: I shall now rotate my head at TOP SPEED and see how all my toys get caught up in the whirlwind wrath that is NOAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!1!!!!!!!!!111!

Me: *sniff* *cough* ....

N: ...

Me: ...

N: Ok mama gimmie cuddles now, I'm done.

They only last a few minutes, which I can tolerate in this frame of mind, and I knew they were coming soon enough. What scares me is that he's been smart enough all this time to know how to use them. (Stupid Whore! I hear you shout.)

The good news is we no longer think he has (had) chicken pox, and if he did then it was the mildest case we ever did see. He's still got the wretched world-wide cold (as have I, did I mention that?) and continues to trail snot everywhere and do that cute little kid thing where if it's close enough to his mouth, he attempts, with every effort, to have a good lick (you have no idea how many time's I have dry heaved over this).

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go because D has just walked through the door with dinner. Dominos Pizza, loaded potato skins, garlic bread, non alcoholic shandy and a tube of Skittles.

I AM the Healthy Mutha. The Other One is going to be TWICE as big as Noah. Bring it.
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Tag from J & A's Crew (I'm yet to understand tagging, I admit)


  • That 70's Show
  • Boston Legal
  • Hell's Kitchen USA
  • Wife Swap USA
  • Supernanny USA (American tv is seriously the best)
  • Friends
  • Charmed
  • Top Gear


  • Simpsons
  • Paris (please come back...)
  • Lasan
  • Mal Maison
  • Claridges (Yeah that's right)
  • The Seafood Restaurant
  • Kababish
  • Chung Ying's


  • I upgraded my phone
  • D and I took my mum out for dinner at Lasan
  • Understood my mother in law a little more
  • Accidentally fed Noah food that was too hot
  • I cried
  • Tried on my maternity jeans
  • Cooked chicken and tomato meals for Noah
  • Found out some bad news about D's brother


  • Noah's first Christmas
  • D's birthday Caribbean cookout tomorrow
  • Sorting out work for good (one way or another)
  • Noah's first (proper) words
  • The Other One
  • Regular sleep
  • Credit Crunch to be over
  • Feeling FINE


  • A little bit of money
  • The end of Credit Crunch
  • Our house to sell
  • To find a house to move to
  • For Noah to be ok
  • For D to be ok
  • My home birth
  • To feel FINE


  • Kelly
  • Jen
  • Jo S
  • Rach H (yes you!!)
  • Amy M
  • Tracey
  • Samantha (Double tagged...is that allowed?)
  • Ash (Tag back? Is that allowed too?!)
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Ill. Again. Colds. Me. Noah. Muchos muchos snotty tissues.


The end.

PS New car still AWESOME, along with my phone upgrade. Mmmmmmmmmm. If a little streaked with snot.
Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 16+6 days
Month: 4
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 15 weeks
Heartbeat: 143 bpm
Time to Go: 161 days
Size: Erm...a mediocre avocado? Because next is onion and I'm just confused.
Time til Big Scan: 23 days

Soooo...I thought it was safe to breathe. You know when you have that moment when you think to yourself, "Hey! Everything is just sweet. Life is pretty cool!", and then a reasonable sized pile of horse mud flings itself at you?

We suspect Noah has chicken pox. He's had this runny nose for like, forever, and on Saturday D noticed a couple of spots on his back. Today at clinic as I stripped him off to be weighed (where I discovered he weighs 25lbs 7oz mother of god he weighs a considerable fraction of me) I spotted* a whole load of spots on his back, one or two on his front and he was casually absent mindedly rubbing his chest and tummy whilet strying to talk to HV#4 with his dummy in his mouth.

He's been mostly great for the last few days, being a little scritchy every so often, which we as great parents put down to him just having a cold.

We are so awesome.

I haven't totalled the car, but I really want to push the button that says "VSA". The dealership guy said I really shouldn't push that button. It alters the stability of the wheels and stops over/under steering. Basically, it stops me trying to slide round corners.

So I'm obviously wanting to push that button. Sweet Jesus as if starting the engine by pushing a shiny red button wasn't enough**, now there's a button that I WANT to push even more but NOT ALLOWED???*** What is up with tormenting me with the Button Pushing, people??!

Can I just take this opportunity to say that I am now only 2lbs over my weight when I was pregnant with Noah at this point. There may just be a god.

Of course my latest addictions for lettuce smothered in Heinz salad cream, or pickled onion Space Raiders, or chocolate and cake in almost any way, shape or form, may alter this smugness a little later on down the line.

As a complete aside, I just read a friend's blog entry, and she wrote about how she nearly electrocuted herself in the crotch with her electric razor in the shower. Is it wrong that I may have pee'd a tiny little bit with the laughter? ****

* Pun totally intended
** Christ it's actually red and says ENGINE START. Do you know how sweet that is?

*** I'm sooooo going to push it. When I'm not too chicken shit scared.
**** Hey, you push 11lbs past yer bladder and out yer crotch and see if you don't make a teeny tiny mess once in a while.
I have a car.

It's shiny and new.

And lovely.

And fast.

And Noah likes it. He told me.

And I like it. It's mine.

I took Noah out for a drive, went to Sainsbury's to get Calpol and teething powders. I drove straight past instead. Because I didn't want to get out.

Ok so I was obviously sad to see Little Orange Thing go (temporarily to Bro in Law's house) but sweet Jesus, the Honda Civic ES is a COOL CAR.

Cos I said so.
Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 16+2 days
Month: 4
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 14 weeks
Heartbeat: 148 bpm
Time to Go: 165 days
Size: The avocado is still in the fridge. *barf*


Noah climbed the stairs today. Unassisted. In approx 1 minute 10 seconds.


I had to snap this on Noah's TEN MONTH birthday, TODAY (sweet Jesus, it's just not right).

He's learning to eat food on his own with his spoon. Porridge: 1, Noah: 0


Um, the end.
Tropical Tree Frog Costume GIVEAWAY!!!!

And I swear I would save this and treasure it and make every single one of my children wear it. And then save it for their grandchildren.

And then I'd probably force it on the cat because O.M.G.

The cuteness!!


Christ, Noah in this outfit might actually kill me. Wonder if there's adult sizes...
Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 16+0 days
Month: 4
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 14 weeks
Heartbeat: 147 bpm
Time to Go: 166 days
Size: Avocado. You know I have a naval orange and an avocado right here, and the avocado is actually bigger.

Still not gonna eat it though.

Noah is ill. Again. He has a cold, and we're all suffering for it. It's kinda odd, because he's such a good kid and rarely makes a fuss if he's ill. Yesterday he crawled up on to my lap several times and just lay there watching tv (and every time, a limb would fall asleep because I was so uncomfortable, but do you think I was gonna be stupid enough to move when my grossly independent child wants a cuddle? Hell to the mother puppy no.) in between shouting at his toys and refusing food. Today he spent the day dancing to Bunnytown, still refusing food (apart from breadsticks and rice cakes) and rugby tackling me.

If it wasn't for the food thing, oh and him constantly sticking out his tongue trying lick the delightful ever-flowing trail of snot from his nose, I'd never know he was ill. Somehow, with 4 teeth also cracking through at the top, he's still so aweome.

D and I are suffering mostly in that we feel sad for him obviously, but also last night was pretty rough as he woke up a few times. Obviously we're (secretly) smug that he's been sleeping through (like, 10 - 12 hours) since about 2 months, so that came as a shock to the system. I hate when he cries while he has a cold as it's the saddest most whimpering cry you've ever heard, but you know there's nothing you can do for him. If he'd let me I'd just pick him up and smother him with kisses and cuddles.

My latest game is "Guess What Causes Migraines?" and it's just the Best. Game. Ever. Current candidates include Chinese food, mobile phones, work and lack of sleep (I promise I will explain that small issue of work soon, just, not yet). I never had so much fun...at this stage I'm immensely thankful that the sciatica and SPD are reasonably under control. Also thankful I've not had a migraine re-occurance as bad as the last biggie, but it bothers me that there's always a niggling migraine, every single day...

I also seem to have (FINALLY) discovered my "renewed 2nd trimester energy" (which has been a freaking long time coming) but has proved to be great playing with Noah. His "rugby tackling" is so hilarious, along with the insane grin, full charge, raised arms and growling that goes with it! Man he cracks me up.

You're probably wondering about the new car...or you're probably not but I have no feasible segue that I can think of right now, but there's a hold up - not picking it up until Friday! And all because I wanted an iPod adaptor fitted (surely those things come as standard in so many cars?) so I'm still driving the Little Orange Thing at the mo...and oddly enough I'm more gutted than I thought I would be, but hey, ya know, something for the, uh weekend...

Something to make you chuckle? I'm 16 weeks along, more flab than bump, and I'm having Braxton Hicks contractions. Can you believe I forgot all about those momentary spasms of joy?
Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 15+5 days
Month: 4
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 14 weeks
Heartbeat: 147 bpm
Time to Go: 169 days
Size: Naval Orange. Or for the normal people, about 11 - 12cm.

Halloween babies on Friday - yes, the NCT babies actually had a Halloween party. It was hilarious seeing all the babies in costumes! Noah had an outfit, nothing fancy given that he has a habit of removing clothes, but it has to be said, he did look ridiculously cute.

It says "I'm a little devil" across the front, and the hat has a face and horns on it. Needless to say it didn't last long.

And of course:

It wouldn't have been complete without a little tail. He had a great time, and did surprisingly well given he didn't go down for his SINGLE DAILY nap til an hour later than normal.

The Other One is moving madly; I've felt loads of movement lately which is kinda of bizarre, especially knowing how early it is. But still, I have that awesome "ski slope" in the mornings before the colossal pee, which is always entertaining. Even more entertaining is the fact that The Other One refuses to keep still long enough for D and I to get an accurate heart rate! Dear lord, if this one is seriously livelier than Noah (which is already the case) then we are totally screwed.

Though thankfully Noah grows in independence every day; he can do a completely self-fed finger-food breakfast (breadsticks, fruit sticks, fruit, Cheerios, Raisin Wheats, Smoothie Pouches) and he's started to try dipping his spoon in his bowl and eat with it. It's hilarious to see him dip the spoon in, usually accompanied by a finger, and then shove the spoon in his mouth. He gets a fair amount in the spoon too.

Comes the best bit - he's eaten 6 Little Stars fromage frais last week, and today he ate an entire bowl of porridge...


Made with full fat cows milk! Absolute minimal reaction, and no reaction to the fromage frais. We may possible have made a considerable breakthrough from previous issues, and man alive am I starting to feel relieved.
And my treat? A new car on the way! It's a Honda Civic ES. Bigger in sooooo many ways than my little orange 207, perhaps a little more grown-up, but hopefully just as much fun. Pick it up on Wednesday, and after the ridiculous stress of cars the last month, I CAN NOT WAIT.
Ok I'm not obsessing. Any more. As much as before. Uh, yeh not so much now.

Some very good advice from some very smart people, and a huge effort at another burst of ebergy from myself, I'm feeling a little better about my slightly crazed child. Who yesterday learnt to do forward rolls on the floor whilst trying to pick up his dunmy with his mouth.

Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 15+2 days
Month: 4
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 13 weeks
Heartbeat: 148 bpm
Time to Go: 172 days
Size: Naval Orange (who makes up this stuff?)

I am, however, wondering if at some point I was pelted back into first trimester when I wasn't looking because, sweet Jesus, I have no appetite and the longing to make the toilet my new best friend is overwhelming.

And not a Cheeto in sight.
I've really started to wonder about Noah's behaviour lately. He is always on the go (and I mean ALWAYS, it's ridiculous), he can have the most amazing tantrums, his intelligence levels are very high according to the health visitor at his 8 month check (he averaged scores of 12 - 15 months), he flits from one toy to the next and it's an effort to get him to stick with one toy for more than 1 minute (unless it does a million different things)...

And so I googled (a past time which really should be outlawed) and up popped ADHD. It's crossed my mind before, but most people said oh yeah his behaviour's perfectly normal. So why then, when I look at other babies, do none of them seem as extreme as Noah?

I hate having this niggling, and have done for some months now, and I briefly skirted over it before, but I always know what everyone else will say. So I just keep hoping it'll change soon, whilst I casually let it eat away at me quietly.

Everyone said he'd be better when he's crawling. That didn't happen. Then they said wait til he's walking. Still no change, in fact, he's pissed off more often, unless I go ass over tit doing everything the world will allow to keep him entertained.

D and I often talk about his behaviour and we both think there's no way he'll cope in public school the way he's going, and may well have to be home schooled or private schooling. I know he's only 9 months, and it's all too easy to label our kids when they're so very, very young. But sometimes, you know just sometimes, we have to question these things.

Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 14+3 days
Month: 4
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 12 weeks
Heartbeat: 151bpm
Time to Go: 178 days
Size: Lemon. A slightly large lemon. Larger than your average peach.

Oh hey!! Yeah you know what's funny? Yeah, it's when you do this, bust your freaking ass, tidy a shit tip, bomb sight of a house from top to goddamn bottom, only to have the estate agents call up as soon as you turn off the mother puppy hoover and say:

Estate Agent: "Oh yeah Mrs M? Yes Miss X says she can't make it and says she's going to reschedule. Many thanks!!"

*Sound of someone's head exploding somewhere*

For those of you who seem slightly disillusioned, apparently I spend my days sitting on my ass with nothing better to do, wondering when people are going to grace me with their presence.

Stupid whores.

PS There is actually a box full of utter random crap shoved underneath my desk in the study. How much shall we bet I'll forget about that until the day we move?
Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 14+2 days
Month: 4
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 12 weeks
Heartbeat: 151bpm
Time to Go: 179 days
Size: Lemon. But wait, that's smaller than a peach, right? Uh, wtf?

Mother of god people coming to view the house tonight first viewing need to tidy forgot to mention selling house no more room for babies must find space throwing all crap in a box hide it somewhere dunno where dust everywhere tired thirsty need more room must go into loft but too many spiders eek clutter need to hoover and not fall down stairs.

I should probably get off the computer too.
Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 13+5 days
Month: 4
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 12 weeks
Heartbeat: 151bpm
Time to Go: 182 days
Size: Peach, apparently, but that could depend on what country you're in.

So this morning, I have had an extra nap with Noah, he then had breakfast (complete self-fed finger food breakfast - Cheerios, Corn Flakes, Raisin Wheats, fruit pouch, cup of water), shipped him off to grandparents, had a shower, had breakfast and am now sitting in front of the tv. I've even washed my hair (no idea when I last did that).

I've pooped. I realised it'd been approaching a week and was about due. Noah hasn't pooped. That'll be nice for the grandparents.

Every so often I feel The Other One having a fidget, and heartbeat is always heard clearly on the doppler. In the mornings before my colossal pee, I have a ski slope of a bump.

Weight loss has slowed down, but I'm still only 5lbs heavier than I was at this stage with Noah. Appetite is still minimal, Cheetos addiction has phased off a bit, but hey! That's ok. I know I'll find some other crap to eat.

I'm physically exhausted and still have the odd migraine twinge, but the good lord has decided that my drugs WILL work, and I'm no longer ploughing my way through a thousand tissues a day.

My car should hopefully be ready tomorrow, and I will no longer have to drive the Bum Nut C3.

Noah is cutting 4 teeth at the top, all at exactly the same time; all 4 have cut the gum open and are waiting to make their grand appearance, which we expect by this time next week.

Come on bitches, I dare ya to try me now.
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Twitter. It's pretty cool. If I'm not here, I'm probably there.
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It's Friday. My car has been sat on my drive since Sunday with a flat tyre and knackered wheel. A days worth of phone calls and THREE AA men later, the car has FINALLY gone to Peugeot (there's a whole new story to fill you in on), dropped off by AA at the AIRPORT to get a hire car...

Avis won't accept my details. I'm stuck at the airport, no money, no transport, no help.

I screamed, I shouted, I cried, (yes right there in the Airport), I called D and asked him to rescue me. Even though he was in the middle of putting Noah to bed.

He came, with a credit card, sorted me out a car, dropped me off at Avis to pick up the car.

I may never, in all my days, have driven such a shitty little car. A Citroen C3. Which I want to burn.

I'm half an hour late for my rehearsal. I haven't eaten. I left the house at 5:30. I got back to pick up my cello at 8:00. A week, surely, beyond belief.

The AA deserve to be sent to the very pits of hell for all eternity, where they will be made to clean Satan's bollocks with their BARE TONGUES.
2 nights/3 days in hospital, suspected meningitis (do you know how scary it is when they start bandying that word around??), a chronic migraine, an IV, morphine, cocodemol, codeine, paracetemol, no sleep and some very, very odd people.

Lord above.

Thankfully, above all else, The Other One is ok; the midwives came down from the maternity ward and dopplered in. Heart rate found, thank GOD.

Monday morning, felt shit, but nothing worse than I had been since last week. I realised something was up when Monday night came, I had no idea what time/day it was and I screamed in pain every time the light was turned on, I focus on anything or speak without wanting to throw up. Hoorahh!! Good times, oh yes.

Sometime in the night (maybe around 10:30pm?) Dave finally called NHS direct who sent round paramedics, who called an ambulance, who took me to hospital. My faaaaaaaavourite place, hospital (at this point I kept thinking about the Big Shiny Red Button). They pumped me full of all kinds of drugs, none of which worked. The best moment?

(Cos there always is one)

When Nurse #1 tried to feed me two Cocodemol - tablets the size and shape of UFOs - and I threw them up before I even had a chance to sit back. She watched me spew, then asked if I'd thrown up the tablets. Then 25 minutes later, asked D if he could check the plastic bag of spuke to find the tablets. I remember half laughing behind blinding pain.

I don't remember much of Monday night in A&E*; I vaguely remember losing feeling in my hands and feet to morphine (that was AWESOME, I'd do that again), and listening to some woman in the next cubicle spuke. Again. And then again. And then some more. And then for the next 6 hours. I think, I think, she may have been ill.

So I didn't sleep Monday night, and D eventually got kicked out 2:30 am.

I remember NOTHING from Tuesday (yesterday), apart from someone constantly asking me my date of birth, and someone else asking about rashes and meningitis. I know I repeatedly asked whether all of the drugs they were forcing down me were actually safe for the baby, and moaned in disbelief when one nurse/doctor/medically incompetant person said they weren't sure and "Would I like her to check first?"

(No, you stupid whore, just give me the motherpuppy drugs which don't even frigging work anyway, and poison both myself and my unborn child. Kthnxbai.)

I do, however, remember Tuesday night. I remember it because I was quietly moaning to try to get to sleep, but couldn't because some guy in the corner kept shouting for the nurses, saying he wanted to "pass water". And every time the nurses told him, "you have a tube in your bladder, you don't have to get up"

Annoying man: "So I don't have to get up?"

Nurse #24,735: "No, because you've got a tube in your bladder."

AM: "So I can pass water?"

Nurse #68,942: "Yes, just relax and stop shouting because there are other people trying to sleep."

AM: "Ok I'm sorry, I'm very sorry."

(30 seconds silence)



Repeat as above. For 3 hours.

Seriously, Big Red Button.

But I'm home now as of this afternoon (and not a moment too soon) to see my beautiful boy who I cannot believe how much I missed. I kept hoping one of the grandparents might just bring him along even though I knew he wasn't allowed.

When I got home he grinned, launched himself at me then grabbed my head and gummed my face. Then while changing him tonight he refused to be put down on his changing table, preferring to cling round my neck and hang on with his legs. Have you ever tried to change a child while they adhere themselves to your torso? It's just the best.

Not sure how I feel about the 4 teeth that have made an appearance at the top, though. Two broken the gum, two bulging the gum. My baby is growing up.

*D has renamed "Accident & Emergency" to "Accident & Eventually"
That is, the Land of the Dead. Do you know how much it sucks to be horribly ill with a cold, look after a man-child with a cold but chooses not to rest, AND a husband with a viral chest infection?

Oh yeh, and be pregnant too???

Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 12+5 days
Month: 3
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 11 weeks
Heartbeat: 156 bpm
Time To Go: 194 days (isn't that like, a few years?)
Size: A large plum

Mother of God. These last two weeks have not been fun. We went to visit some of D's relatives in Norfolk and on the drive back, Noah repeatedly barfed up all his milk, right there in his car seat. I had never seen anything like it, he was so ill.

Oddly enough, you would never have known it for the fact that he was still running around like a lunatic when he got home, and pretty much has done since. He's only just back on full fat formula (rather than the diluted crap and/or plain warm water we wre having to give him).

D has actually been off work and is now on steroids and an inhaler - he is verrrrrrrrrry ill. I confess I bollocked him for not taking proper care of himself or realising he was ill; he still tried to go to work 'cos the meeting was too important. He soon realised how ill he was when he fell asleep in the meeting then hit a car driving home...

I guess I got so pissed because I wish he would look after himself, just because I want him to see his kids grow up and stuff. Oh yeh, and because I'd like to be married for a good few more years yet. I felt bad for having a go, but I was just so frustrated.

I, thank god, am doing much better. I'm getting over my cold, and I'm finally out of the Wanna-Vom-Can't-Vom 1st trimester phase, and I eat. Unfortunately, of course I now seem to eat like a horse, and my addictions are sweets (Jolly Ranchers and Jelly Tots), chocolate (has to be Galaxy Minstrels, nothing else works) and Crunchy Cheetos. Embarassingly enough, I ordered some on eBay because I can't get them over here. When I say I ordered some...

...I mean, a box of 50 packets. What can I say? The kid likes fake cheesy stuff!! I'm still thankful for the weight loss at this stage, which somehow, is still happening. 8-ish weeks of not wanting to eat. AWESOME!!

Don't judge me.

I'm now 24lbs down from when Noah was born, 14lbs shed in the last month. Which, therefore, according to the relativity of the hydratic neurosymetic allegation of tri-quatra syndicate and movement*, means I can eat all the Cheetos I like. Washed down with Galaxy Minstrels. And a Jolly Rancher**.

Interestingly enough, I have no idea why many of my cravings are USA based. I've been scouring some websites that sell USA food stuffs here, and my brain practically explodes with the delightful possibilities.

I dunno.

* You know this totally exists, right?
** OMGZZ I totally found Jolly Rancher Soda!!1!!!1!! Will the goodness never end?
Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 12+0 days
Month: 3
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 10 weeks
Heartbeat: 157 bpm
Time To Go: 194 days (A short eternity)

Scan last week showed everything to be hunky-dory, with The Other One bouncing around insanely on the screen, moreso than Noah did. Nope, nope, I'm not scared. Another child livelier than Noah? Nope, not possible.

Jesus, kid isn't even born yet and I already don't have time for it. Or maybe I'm that freaking tired. Or it's 00:10 at night and I know I should've been in bed maybe 3 hours ago.

Happy Second Trimester-ish! (Hehe, there's another argument to gnaw over.)
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(Watching an ad on TV for Disneyworld)

D: I can't wait to take Noah and The Other One to Disneyworld

Me: The Other One??

D: Oops you know, I mean Mocha...er, not Mocha...Mocha II...

Me: The Other One?????

D: I don't like Mocha! It doesn't seem right.

Me: But you wanted Mocha!

D: Yeah I know but -

Me: And I've already blogged with Mocha II!!!

D: Yeah well -

Me: The Other One????!!!!!!!! I bloody argued and you said -

D: Yeah I know -

Me: And so now you call it The Other One?????!!! (Slightly incredulous expression)

D: ...

Me: You DO know you ARE the father of this child? It does actually belong to you?

D: ...

Me: Dude.

I love pregnancy hormones, they're awesome.
Sooooooo many people don't believe me when I say Noah walks. They're like "Oh you mean he cruises round furniture?" or maybe "He walks when you're holding his hands, right?" or sometimes even "Oh yeh, I bet! But it's probably just actually falling forwards, right?"

Ahhhh that's so funny.

And this is just great.

He is 8½ months old in this flick. He's been doing this for the last 3 weeks. Hehehehe.

PS Apologies for the dodgy footage; it's hard to film your child on a camera phone advancing towards you at speed.

Ladies and gentlemen....

I am proud to say...


Oh yes, BOOOYAH. Obviously I'm talking about Mocha II*

Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 10+3 days
Month: 3
Trimester: 1
Fetus Age: 9 weeks
Time to Go: 206 Days
Heartbeat: 170bpm (heard 9w5d home doppler)

Bog scan next Tues morning, followed by Noah's 8 month check. Like the boy needs checking...(pffffft).

You know? Actually starting to feel good. Or at least, better than before. Or maybe trying to overlook the crippling sciatica (ALREADY), PoopGate (ALREADY) or the fact that they (MW#2) are already saying "Now come on let's be real here - you gave birth to an elephant. You really should go into hospital for this next one. Don't think you're going to have another home birth."

That's like saying "Now don't push that big shiny red button."

Yeh. Like I wouldn't push the button.

* Ya know, everytime I type that, I fight the urge to start singing some kind of Star Wars music or something...something that goes Dun dundun DUHHHHH DUHNN DUH DUHDUNNNNNN. Etc. I don't know why.
I have it!! I have the answer!! Weight loss! OMG IT'S SOOOOO EASY!!!!

Exercise? Nope. Dieting? Hell nope.

Pregnancy. Ohhhhhh yes. Seriously. I've lost 8 punds in two weeks. And I'd honestly like to say how proud I am, but I know I can't because quite frankly, all I want to do is share my minimal stomach contents with the nearest bucket.


Oh yeah, uh:

Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 9+1 day
Month: 3
Trimester: 1
Fetus Age: 7 weeks
Time to Go: 215 days

Noah is making me suffer, it's H-I LARI O-U-S. He loves to play "How fast can I try to run across the room, my head aiming for that rather sharp pointy corner of the table and will my mother be able to catch me?" I LOVE this game, especially when I move waaaaaay too slow and he ends up gumming the floor while I desperately debate attaching wheels to my ass.

Soooooo much fun. Seriously!

He's doing so well though. He's gotten so cocky with his walking/running/moving quickly on his feet, and it's just so crazy to watch. I often have to remind myself he's only 8½ months, not 12 - 18 months. He's already launched himself out of his cot; I put him down for a nap and went to the bedroom. There was some rustling, a gentle thud, then some more rustling.

I walked in to find him sitting on the floor. For about 10 seconds we just looked at each other, both of us open mouthed; I debated whether to scream and panic or just calmly put him back in (or even ask him how the hell he got to the floor, unharmed). He sat there, said "EH" loudly, then went back to fiddling with the bag.


D and I have taken to the doppler already. I know, I know, it's too early, yaddah yaddah, it's like, the size of a pea or whatever (actually, it's about the size of a raspberry), you'll never find it. But I remembered we found Noah's heartbeat at 9ish weeks, and the curiosity is driving me crazy. And of course, we haven't found it yet.

But just watch! Maybe around 28, 29ish weeks, I'll report that we finally found it. Or maybe we'll find it sooner than expected, because I'll just be skin and bones. Awesome!! In fact maybe I could be a Celeb Mom, and have lost all the poundage before Mocha II is even born. But probably not because I discovered the only things I CAN eat are Jaffa cakes, and egg mayo and Branston Pickle sandwiches. Absolutely no butter, because that's just gross.
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So go ahead. Let the assvice commence. Go ahead and let rip with your comments.

"ANOTHER ONE?? You must be mad."

"Two under 2? Are you crazy?"

"Spotting loads? Oh it's probably because you're so blatantly not ready to have another one."

"Pregnant again? You'll never cope with it again."

Yep, thanks for your support people, I really appreciate it. But you know what? You wanna comment? Go ahead. You want to commiserate? Go for it. You wanna congratulate? Knock yourself out. You got something to say? Say it.

But I ask one thing.

Please do not text me. Do not email me. You have something to say, then say it here. Bitch behind my back all you like. I know people do it, and that's ok. But don't treat me like a fool. I don't want my phone going crazy with assvice. I don't want my inbox full of apologies/commiserations. I'd prefer it if you left your chosen words here, where I can deal with it in my time. You know? Cos I got a lot on my plate right now, and I'm trying my damndest to be in the right frame of mind to be happy for myself. Instead of wondering whether I should be wallowing in self pity.

This is my baby. Mocha x2. Or Mocha #2. I haven't decided yet. And you know what? I'm going to enjoy my baby. We PLANNED to have 2. We PLANNED to have them close. In fact, we had PLANNED to start trying 3 months before Christmas.

I'm bitter. I'm so very bitter. I'm infuriated by the people who have made these comments, because I feel that people don't often think before they speak. It hurt because people doubted me before they gave me a chance. It hurt because I thought I'd have support from people who said they gave a shit. It hurt more when people found out (and there are very few who know, at least before this post) and I said I think I might actually be having a miscarriage...and it hurt so much when the comments were still the same.

I ask myself these questions - would you say the same thing to a mother of twins? Would you say the same things to someone with fertility issues, had been trying for years and finally gotten lucky twice in a row? Would you say the same thing to yourself if it was what you really wanted?

I've been spotting from 5 weeks. The scan was at 6 weeks. I'm still spotting, sometimes brown, sometimes pink. Never red. Not yet. Mocha II has a healthy heartbeat, and D and I cried with sweet relief when Mme Sonographer said everything was ok. We had asked her to cover the screen until she could see for sure either way.

When I first found out, I thought my announcement to The Internet would be a lovely one, full of fluffy shit, comparative pics of Noah, excitement, , how I found out and how we laughed and other stuff to make you a little nauseous (Nausea! My new bestest friend).

Truthfully? I almost had no intention of blogging again, because I was so fucked off.

But I feel perhaps I should rise to the challenge of people who are less supportive, and in true Brit fashion (ack), flick the old V sign and carry on regardless. So let's begin.

Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 8+2 days
Month: 2
Trimester: 1
Fetus Age: 6 weeks
Time to Go: 221 days

Personally, if Noah is anything to go by, I can't wait. Especially when my little 8 month old boy walked across the lounge last week, completely unaided, grinning at me with his 2 teeth.
As a mother, I am of course likely to worry about every little thing relating to my child. I worry that he has a slightly spotty forehead. Then it's fine. I worry that his fourth toenail on his left foot will go rotten from where constantly scrapes it along the floor. Then he doesn't seem at all bothered by it. I wonder if he will ever have teeth.

Er, I'm still wondering.

But there's one thing, that's plagued the back of my mind from very early on, and I've only laughed and joked about it with people. Ok he's only 7 months old, and it's probably near on impossible to diagnose anything at this age, but it worries me all the same.

From day one (day damn one), he has been incerdibly stubborn. Yeh I know, look at his mother, I hear you say (I don't deny that I'm stubborn too, it's just wierd when you meet your match in a 7 month old), but he actually seems defiant sometimes.

He's also so lively, I don't quite know how he does it. Last night he cried on and off from about 4:30 til 6am. I refused to give him his dummy, knowing full well it would still be in his cot somewhere, and the fact that I really want him to learn how to get back off to sleep by himself should he wake in the night. He then awoke properly at 7am, had milk, then breakfast at 9:30, then didn't go down for a nap til 10:30. And he was asleep 20 minutes, if that.

And he's still awake now, despite having had second milk, and thrown himself at me to go sleep. He didn't sleep, he just wriggled til it felt like he was going to break me, so I've put him in his Baby Einstein and he's still playing now. At full force.

How can this be normal? We were told our new baby would sleep shit loads in the early days, and even now would probably have one nap that could last for up to 2 hours in the day, as well as other short naps. We're lucky to get one short nap sometimes.

He's so lively, strong and active, I really feel like he's actually about to break one of my limbs, or leave me bruised to buggery. And whilst a lot of you are saying "Ahw that's so lovely, at least you can play with your baby", it's a different story when your baby is only 7 months and still doesn't understand a lot of things.

I hate sounding like a whiney mom. I would hope I'm only whiney with good reason. I know I'm lucky. But I'm worried something isn't right. I don't know what.

Or maybe I do know what but I do know but don't want to be the one to taint my beautiful baby boy.
I have a cold.

Nope, no wait, I have bird flu.

I'm allowed to exaggerate, we all know it's what I do best.


Noah had a cold from last week, and in his loving caring state, decided to share it. And I feel like shit, which is unfortunate, given that it's Jeph's wedding on Saturday and I'm playing in the quartet. Which, for half disclosed reasons, could be interesting.

I have a friend (yes I do!) who's having some trouble, and it's really sad. Yes, sad that she's having some trouble, but even more sad that I totally relate to what she's saying, but can't seem to convey it convincingly without the whole "Oh ya ya...me too, me too....my life...yack yackitty yack".

*cough cough*

My brain is slightly frazzled, it's 10:20 pm, and I wanted to write.


I'd like to utter the words "I'm tired of being fat", but fear I may be slated/yelled at/finger wagged at for saying it. But truth is, I feel fat. I feel freaking HYOWGE*. I'm tired of constantly not fitting in any of my clothes (my jeans....my beautiful jeans...) and yet still not having any motivation to really lose weight. B and T have lost a shit load of weight already, thanks to the likes of weight loss videos. I have no freaking motivation.

I confess, now that I'm not breastfeeding anymore (which, by the way, I obviously blame stopping the breastfeeding as the reason why Noah got a frigging cold), I have toyed with the idea of just, not eating. Like, no food. Not even calorie counting, just stopping food entirely and hoping the weight will somehow fall off.

Yeh yeh I know, that's just stupid. But when I walk past the mirror in the morning, suck in my stomach for the frillionth time, I wonder if that's just the easiest (and laziest?) way. I hate my figure, it sucks. And you know what? I don't think I want to hear "Oh but you look great, stop talking out yer arse woman", because I don't feel great, and much as they're meant to, comments like that don't make me feel great either. In fact they make me feel worse, because it's like I'm supposed to just suddenly feel better.

I never forget starting breastfeeding and weighing myself every motherbleeping day, just waiting to see when I'd suddenly wake up super skinny. Since giving birth, my total weight loss has been....weight for it (pun intended)...12lbs. No explain something to me. Noah weighed in at a ridiculous 10lbs15oz. Let's call it 11lbs. Placenta's gotta weigh, like, 3lbs. Maybe more. Let's say more. Then there's all the fluid and shit (literally), so by rights I should have lost maybe...17lbs. Give or take.

So, er, what the bleep?


It's not even like I lost a load then put it straight back on...I somehow only lost the weight of Noah.

Fer bleeps sake.

Wanna hear something really funny? (Cos you know this post is just a barrel of laughs) I officially go back to work in September. I have no idea how many days that is, a)because I don't even know the official date I start back and b)quite frankly I don't care to know. I'm erm, really excited.


*cough cough*

I am not entirely sure why I'm going back, apart from knowing that it's somehow related to finances. Like, maternity pay, and having no money of my own. My mother has officially retired (as of today!) so she's on hand to babysit, as are D's parents.

I can't complain about going back (too much), the hours are good, and everything appears to be covered.

And as an aside, I swear to motherbleeping god, I am going to bleeping murder the motherbleeping barking dogs next door, because the bleeping neighbours are too bleeping ignorant and a pair of dumb bleepers who are bleeping stupid beyond bleeping belief, as are their bleeping bleepery dogs.

They've been barking for an hour and a half. I am slightly irate.

Even more random, B came out with two brilliant quotes today; on arriving at L's house, she exclaimed:

"Oh my god Jay, I'm sweating like a rapist, I swear."

And later whilst feeding Miss P her spinach with salmon and parsnip, wasn't too keen on the smell, saying:

"Shit man, this smells fishy as fuck."

Awesome. Just freaking awesome.

*Where I live, this actually means huge. The accent gets a bit funny, ya know?
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