Well, I have the world-beater of all stupid pregnancy things now!
I know we get hormonal and will cry at the drop of a hat – I’ve been expecting that. I’ve heard of women crying every time they saw the Andrex puppy on the telly, or weeping every time they read the true life stories in cheesy women’s magazines, but I can top the lot!
The other night I was wailing my heart out – because Chelsea were playing in their horrible acid-yellow strip when they played against Olympiakos! I just couldn’t see the point. The conversation went something like this:
Me: Why do they have to wear that horrible strip?
Dale: Because they’re playing away from home, baby.
Me: (Tears starting)but Olympiakos are playing in red and white, so Chelsea could easily have worn the blue and nobody would have cared! Nobody looks good in acid yellow – NOBODY! I mean, pale skins look sallow, olive skins look drab and dark skins look garish – it’s a HORRID colour!
Dale: It’s just a strip.
Me: (wailing) Whoever designed that strip needs to get some fashion sensibility! Not that it matters to me – I can’t wear anything fashionable any more because I’m FAT!
Dale: No, baby, you’re pregnant!
And so on. I could cry now if I had to look at that hideous kit again!
And then yesterday I had another go. We’d been to pizza hut with our friend and Godson for lunch and when it came to dessert, I fancied apple pie, but they didn’t have it on the menu. Later last night, Dale was going to the shop and asked if I wanted anything, but I said “no”. He came back with apple pies. It was so sweet that I cried!
It’s becoming increasingly difficult to stop the flow of tears – I’ll get dehydrated at this rate!
My good friend, Michelle, was kind enough to tag me. Here’s how it works:
1. Link back to the person who tagged you.
2. Post these rules on your blog.
3. Share six unimportant things about yourself.
4. Tag six random people at the end of your blog entry.
5. Let the tagged people know by leaving a comment on their blogs.
That takes care of one and two immediately, so here goes with part three:
Six Unimportant Things About Me:
1. I refuse to say my age in “real numbers”. instead, I’m currently Twenty-Eleven. I find it easier to cope that way!
2. I read an average of 120 books in a year, give or take a few. Usually a small handful more than that. Of course, all that’s going to change later in the year once Tadpole arrives!
3. I’m a total Daddy’s girl. My Daddy is my hero!
4. I used to be a ballerina and went en pointe at an absurdly young age. You’re supposed to wait till your foot bones have grown properly (around the age of 14), whereas I decided not to wait and got up on my tippy-toes when I was 9. I now have problems with my big toes – I think I may have got hairline fractures in them due to my own stubbornness!
5. My favourite drink is mineral water. It doesn’t matter what brand – it can be the cheap own-brand stuff from the loacl supermarket so ling as it’s chilled. And I like both still and sparkling. It’s refreshing and healthy and does the trick every time!
6. I would love to be a green-fingered person, but I have a tendency to accidentally kill my plants. That said, I do have a peace lily that has stayed alive against the odds for almost three years now. It had flowers when I was given it, but has never flowered again. It doesn’t look like the healthiest of plants, but it’s hanging in there! I wouldn’t mind so much, but I always follow the guidelines for keeping my plants to the letter and they still end up dead! I’m hoping this one will keep going though – it’s something of a record for me!
Today I had my first ever proper, major full-on craving.
I’d been out to coffee in the morning with The Girls (Suzie and Amy), although I stuck to the apple juice, seeing as how I’ve cut out caffeine since discovering our Impending Arrival, and then run a few errands around town before heading back home, taking the Rosemount route.
I was about half way home when I suddenly realised that the one thing I wanted more than anything in the world was a slice of pizza!
I resigned myself to the fact that I would have to wait till I got home, then order a pizza, and then wait for it to arrive, in the hopes that it would get there before my morning sickness kicked in and meant I couldn’t face it. And then it happened. Like a mirage, it appeared before me:
I could hardly believe my luck! I had inadvertently chosen the route home that would take me directly past the door of Heavenly Pizza who, as it happens, sell a 7-inch Margherita for £2.95. It was more than I could stand. I went in and placed my order.
Ten minutes later, I was handed my box of pizza delight and I left the shop with every intention of taking it home to eat off a plate with a knife and fork (I hate eating in the street – it’s just a little uncouth and against my delicate sensibilities). However, Tadpole had other ideas. The smell was driving me crazy and, I’m ashamed to say, I opened that box and devoured the contents as I walked home!
And you know what? It was every bit as heavenly as advertised! The base was crisp and light and not at all greasy. The tomato sauce was piquant and both herby and spicy. The cheese-to-sauce ratio was spot on and the mozzarella was melted to perfection.
It was, in short, quite the most divine pizza I have ever had.
Of course, that could have been completely down to the satisfying of the craving, but I’m very glad I took a delivery menu before I left!
I’m not sure how many people actually visit and read my blog, but if you do, you may have noticed I’ve been missing in action for a couple of weeks now. This is because I’ve been incredibly tired and sick during that time.
Fear not, however! It turns out there’s a very good reason I’ve been feeling this way – it turns out I’m pregnant!
Yes, the woman who said, “Never, no never” (as did hubby!), has had to have a very quick turn-around of ideas, as it looks like we’ll be expecting a tiny bundle of noise some time around the end of September (if our calculations aren’t completely off). Needless to say, the news came as something of a shock and a surprise to us. As Mr and Mrs DINK (Double income, No Kids), we had no plans to change that at any point in the future, but since discovering our impending Mini Me (or Mini Him), we’ve had to start preparing for a complete change in lifestyle.
Already, we’re enjoying our “Office” while we can, before it has to be converted into a Nursery and we have to find another place to put our computers, and we’re having to look at ways to rearrange our finances to prepare for the fact that I’ll be taking a minimum of a six-month break from work, followed by my returning part time for at least 6 months before going full-time again (possibly even longer – who knows?!). I can already see my reading time cut to shreds and my restless nights turning into sleepless ones (at least hubby will also have to contend with that!). All the many choices to be taken into consideration – to breast feed or not to breast feed, and for how long? (We’re going to give that a try and see how it goes.) Real nappies or disposables? (Environmentally, I like the idea of real nappies, but also the convenience of disposables.)
All this is before I’m even through my first trimester! At the moment I’m shattered and battling constant low-grade nausea with bouts of utter sickness you wouldn’t believe the amount of ginger I’m nibbling just to make that bearable!). And of course, my mother has already started buying things…
Oh, what a palaver! A new baby! Who’d have thought it, eh?