Its sickening

I know I don't talk about the P-word an awful lot on here.

Several reasons.

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One is that, while this blog is "all about me" and satisfies the navel-gazing portion of my needs wants, this whole thing isn't just about me - that, and the navel will be getting that much closer and shallower and oh my heck, have you seen how HUGE women get while pregnant and there is no "get out of jail free" card and - heck, I am hyperventilating on that whole aspect now, and we are NOWHERE near half way.

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Another is that the biggest issue I have at the moment is outerwear - well, that and underwear.

One of the immense downsides of having a 10 year gap between the firstborn and the lastborn with no otherborns in between is that you don't tend to hold on to the absolutely devastatingly heartbreaking draperies stylish maternity wear from the last go around. Yes, even despite the fact that maternity wear is maternity wear is maternity wear and no era is ever going to date tents and muu-muus.

I have attempted to overcome the huge gap between what I got and what I need in the whole cover myself, keep warm and (yes, insert maniacal laughter now) look stylish short-term goal in my life.

Guess what?

Ab-so-lute-ly sweet FA (soccer term for those who don't know the meaning, Mum).

There are not a huge range of shopping options available to me in the nearby big smoke.

Yes, there are chain stores. Do you know where you find maternity wear in chain stores? There are generally two options.

One is in the oversize section. I know there is a rumour that some stores have it BESIDE the oversize section, but really, it looks like the oversize section, fits like the oversize section and in fact, well how about that, it is the oversize section.

Not that I have anything against the oversize section, in fact, I am feeling more and more empathy for the oversize section by the day. There was a day when someone once injected style into the oversize section, I believe. However, there is a conspiracy that is no equating those who frequent the oversize section with a lot of negative words, starting with the letter "oh" and ending with the expletive "my goodness, it is all YOUR fault" and they are being punished with tents and muumuus.

The other is in the sporting section. Oh yes, you think, very sporting behaviour must have got you there but in fact it is a sinister plot, designed to make you feel like you should buy chocolate and trashy magazines so you can go home, do a bit of weeping and gnashing and read about celebrity folk what get knocked up and pare down within hours, so I too can go on a bikini shoot before 2009 is out.

The really, really nasty store designers go for the double-whammy and actually put it between the oversize section AND the sporting section.

And really, the choice you have on the - if you are extremely lucky - two racks of maternity wear? Your choice is black trackpants (heck, maybe even two styles), black leggings, ugly jeans with three inches of blue ribbing around the top for expansion, black stretch tops in a variety of two styles and tshirts. Personally, I love a bit of black in my wardrobe but I am looking for things to wear OUTSIDE of the house - say to work type things - there is only so much gothic you can get away with in an office in nearby big smoke.

And then there is the "speciality boutiques" - must be said with the assistance of marbles in the mouth, because it stops your heart being there when you see the price they expect people to part with just for - you guessed it - black trackpants, ugly jeans with three inches of blue ribbing around the top for expansion and black stretch tops - sure, there may be one or two extra bits of lace around the trim but so not worth the extra $50 - the extra $50 on an already inflated price at the chain stores.

Finally you have the op shops. I was once an op shop queen - but that was back in the day when the realm of op shop actually held bargains and were worthy of reigning. I hate to whinge (lord, how you all know how much I hate to whinge) but in nearby big smoke the op shop options are a long, long way from the realms of my 20s - in style, quality AND price - okay, in geography too.

Have a wild guess where the maternity section is in the op shops? That would be in their oversize section - and lordy, I do feel for those who have to frequent the oversize section of the op shops here, because it would seem that every polyester twin-suit created with a complete lack of taste fill the racks, and I am yet to actually find anything maternity on the racks despite the advice from the volunteers that man the stores.

And as for underwear - my 3 bra rule still remains unbroken, despite actually venturing into a travelling bra sale on the weekend in the faint hope that the hype of "nothing over $30", "1,000s of bras" and "to fit all sizes and shapes" would conspire into giving me lift and support for less than a limb.

Where is that maniacal laugh button again?

The only thing I came out of such a sale with was the lesson relearned that you don't wear a dress bra shopping, due to placement of fitting room, communal nature of said fitting room and the fact that while you may have trawled through the 1,000s of bras, the only thing close to what you may want is only available in pale peach, costs a smidge above their "nothing over" promise and is uncomfortable as hell when you finally declothe in said communal fitting room with only a brief curtain between you and the hordes is so darned uncomfortable it makes your least favourite of the 3 bras feel welcome when you redress.

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And the final reason that I don't over-pregnify the blog is that I have relative who is also on this journey. No, not the relative you all know and love (I have other relatives) but one we will call, for the purposes of this blog, Curly.

Curly has been along the track three times previous - and the end results are beautiful - however, while I have the awe of expansion of girth and am otherwise hale and sickeningly hearty in pregnancy, her journeys are not quite so serene.

In fact, poor Curly has already spent more than a few hours in her local hospital being pumped with fluids because her body is of the opinion that the presence of the unborn should cause a negative equation in the whole things going in and things going out ratio.

Given that each of the three times has had this as a large factor at play for the majority of the 9 months, me singing about how I am all glowing and have never felt better is probably going to make her throw up (like she needs the excuse).

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So the upshot is, 17 weeks down, oh my goodness only another 24 weeks or so of galloping towards the inevitable in an ever decreasing wardrobe and can't complain (well, not enough to blog about it incessantly, anyway).

A screw up and a step up

Mistress B has a round up of Screw Ups on a Tuesday, and I have a doozy (must be pronounced a'la the morning presenter on the radio on Groundhog Day).



Today, we are off to spend some quality horse-and-cousin bonding time. Now, one of the few downsides to such jaunts is the completely different programming available on the idiot box, and therefore our access to our mainline shows.

The main downside, of course, is four long and lonely days and nights without V.

Anyhow, last night we decided to have a little bonding time instead of catching up on certain shows - The Big Bang Theory had returned to the box (welcome back!!) and Desperate Housewives was due to play. We are nearing the end of season, but given the way our lives have been on late we are still to watch LAST WEEK'S Desperate, so it was decided that the tape would take care of them and we would have a date night at some point in the future to indulge.

So I set the tape to tape and our evening progressed. At a few points, I will admit that V did enquire whether it was catching DH, but I was blissful in my skills...

My bubble burst when I rewound the tape to find the end of DH (so I could set it for future TV concerns) and found out that there was one assumption made last night that should have been checked.

BBT and DH are on different stations.

Sob.

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To cheer me up, I finally went on an abbreviated traipse around a few of my favourite blogs, and discovered "The Other Ree" of The Hotfessional had flattered me greatly.



She said (well, okay, she cut and paste per the meme instructions but I am SURE she meant it)

This award is given to the writers of blogs that “are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.”

So, per instructions, I in turn must pass it along to another 8 - given all the great people I do read (okay, very occasionally at the moment), my random (and all antipodean) 8 recipients are (in tab order on my browser right at the moment so I get the links right):

• Mistress B of Dances to the Beet
• Sarah Lulu of Normal is a cycle on a washing machine
• BrissieMum2 of These Days of a Busy Mum
• Tracey of trace elements
• Melody of biglittlesister
• Jen at Semantically driven
• Trish at My Little Drummer Boys
• Jayne at Our Great Southern Land

I could have mentioned far more than 8, but orders is orders...

Anyhow, off to do a little more work, unpeg, fold, pack and await my chariot to the Western Lands.

Foggy Friday Morning

Hello lovelies!!

High on fog here - and hyped up on the fact that

• (a) I have been awake for 2 hours (yes, that was a 3am wake up, doggarn you universe)
• (b) who needs any other reason?

Ah yes, the madness of early mornings.

There is a very thick cloud of fog outside at the moment. One car drove past to the North. Two minutes later a car drove past to the South - but it was speeding. Hmmm... Five minutes later, the first car drove past to the South at a leisurely pace.

Its funny, but I have spent far more mind power on contemplating that scenario than the work conundrums that helped raise me from the dead bed this morning, as I know any work I attempt at this hour will need complete revisions and I am far more likely to be right on my early morning sleuthing than my early morning slaving.

So what do you think, folks?

Was it a jealous partner chasing down a wandering spouse? But no, because then second car may have had a speedier pursuit.

A work colleague awakening the early shift?

When I was a University, I used to do the very early morning drive to collect someone for rowing practice - but the two cars have me stumped...

Hmm, we do live near the coast, could it be smuggling? (Sorry, had a Robert Louis Stevenson moment with the fog just then, could almost hear the tapping of a wooden leg) It was pretty close to full tide.

As you can see, this is far more productive than a little PHP knot I have to unravel!

I'm blogging, so it must be

Sunday.

Or the long list of "things I must do today" is threatening to topple and it is my version of the "la la la la LA" with fingers in my ears movement...

One of the two.

I had a l-o-n-g week, and have not had a chance to visit even my favourite bloggers.

I spent the daylight hours in an office, where the only breaks I had from monotony were phone calls, drop-ins and very occasional data entry. Given that I had managed to accidentally divert the phones on the first day, I didn't even have phones to divert me for a few hours of one!

That would have given me ample opportunity to catch up on all my favourite blogs, of course, except they had managed to block all internet access to blogs.

Oh well, my boxes of paperwork are now more organised and they are HUGELY impressed with my template skills.

I spent the pre-daylight hours trying to deal with my clients "urgent, urgent, urgent!" emails and keep a certain amount of sweetness in my business that will have to susutain me as offers to bore myself in other offices are sporadic at best.

I spent the post-daylight hours sleeping - apparently I need more than 6 hours a night some nights.

And in the vein of "when it rains" V actually got a few days work last week that may extend to beyond the end of the month, so 'Salina got to be one of those pathetic poor children blessed with before AND after school care.

Don't feel too sorry for her - she knows how to milk it, and it has been converted.

Not much else news here - if it were later in the day, I would be able to let you know if last weeks Lemon Squares convert at all as Grapefruit Squares. If it were earlier I would wax lyrical about the plans I had for Sunday that are now apparently at nought. But as it is right now, I leave you with nothing more than promises to "do better".

Lemon Squares

Part of our haul from Granite Glen was a bag of indeterminate citrus fruit (rumoured to be lemonade) courtesy of Pagi's sister, and by yesterday it was TIME to juice them.

'Salina was a trouper, and juiced (with the assistance of the food processor) well over a litre of the only slightly bitter goodness.

As is my wont, I started thinking about food, and Chef Google and I examined the options of indeterminate citrus fruit and sweet snack goodness.

Our final decision rested upon time (because the 1 litre of goodness took a while to achieve) and ease (as I am a big fan).

The winner was Lemon Squares - and I can assure all of you good folk, it truly is a winner. You want to visit us in the next few days (or maybe by tomorrow)!!

I don't know how exact to the original we kept, as we have learned one many lessons in the past year - one of which is "do not buy cheap cup measures" - and were reduced to measuring 1 3/4 cups of plain flour with the 1/4 cup measure (great for testing maths skills of a 9 year old, however) - and for a degree of difficulty I combined that with discussing numbers with 'Salina while she was counting said 7/4 cups out.

The original "dough" they mention is not so much dough as dust - or it was in our example - but I chucked it in the oven anyway. Next time I will ask the bricklayer to chuck a level across it, as there was a few peaks and troughs, but all in all an interesting experiment.

The ease bit certainly came to the fore with the filling, as it was all in the food processor and then poured and prayed for a positive result.

Next time, maybe I would turn the oven down a little, and I completely forgot (as my excessively neat kitchen hand V put it away) the icing sugar dusting over the top, but it doesn't miss it (except in visuals).

The results:

V's review: "Woke up at 12.20 and ate one, then picked a bit of another which was then no longer square so had to tidy that up and thought what the heck and ate another. Pretty good."

'Salina's review: "Really nice - it tastes like sweet custard and cookies. Can I have another one?"

My review: "Instant diabetes, but great joy in achieving this!"

Of course, the camera is not playing nice, so you will have to use your imagination (use the link's picture as a guide - theirs is much prettier than mine, but then mine are edible and right here).

Anyone for a cuppa?

ECHO-echo-cho-o-o

Yes, its been pretty thin on the ground here, postings wise.

Several reasons:

• Too depressed at the beginning of the week due to late payment of invoices by a client;
• Too creative with numbers and codes and little figures running through my brain attempting to keep the red out of my budget and making hard decisions future-wise to make any sense;
• Too stressed by the middle of the week due to late payment of invoices by a client and having to decide between working for the man (or woman) in an office next week for guaranteed dosh over my little clients;
• Too frustrated by government offices not understanding my simple attempts to keep the wolf from the door and thinking I made twice what I can because they were counting it twice; and
• Too freaked by the end of the week by the eventual late payment of invoices by a client, his/her sudden need for EVERYTHING URGENTLY by next Tuesday sweetened with referrals to others he/she is working with AND agreeing to do a little job for an old client resulting in a 10 hour day in my new office space.

My new office space - the high point of my week! As I have to pull some late nights/early mornings on the dinosaur computer I SAID I had passed on to 'Salina (but still require as it has some expensive software I can no longer find the disks for) and as space-wise, a computer in her room wasn't working, I put V and I to work this morning in clearing out the spare room, rearranging the whole house and making "space" a priority.

I am sorry I haven't trundled the blogorama much this week. And probably won't next week.

Shoot - haven't I done this post a few times before?

In more positive news:

• our stove broke down two weeks before warranty expired, so got it fixed in the nick of time!!;
• I got to unexpectedly see friends and their newborn at said government offices while waiting for them to fix my little problem;
• 'Salina got an extra day and a half off school this week because of the tummy issues (I know that isn't good news, but I wanted the positive list to look longer); and
• Baby is still hanging (sideways, it appears!!)

What is up in the outside world?

Not in Paradise

Sorry, haven't updated since that early morning the other morning - I am sure some of you are now wondering if I ever got back to sleep.

Of course I did. In fact, it only takes a few mornings like that and those with a 4 in their wake up number for you to REALLY appreciate the sleep in that 5.30am represents.

This weekend, we are actually not In Paradise - we are at Granite Glen, for a long weekend of droving and playing with cousins (for 'Salina), cooking, computing and catching up (for me) and adapting, laying low and amusing many children (for V).

On Saturday, we had 11 adults around a table for canneloni, salad and garlic bread, while 8 children had a smaller table and two sittings of spaghetti (the 1 baby had brought his own fare).

There was plenty of noise (and not just from the phalanx of children hopped up on garlic bread and pears), chatter and passing the baby around.

And for dessert, we all had fruit platters and the richest 3-layer carrot cake.

Oh three oh six ay em

At about that moment this morning, something stirred - whether it was 'Salina speaking up at her somnambulant playmates, whether it was the cantabile snores of V - heck, perhaps it was Eddie sending through psychic "feed me, entertain me, let me out" chants that snapped me from slumber to ticking my mind over and over and over and - doggarn it!

(I wouldn't put it past that cat)

After my twenty minutes of "by goodness I am lying here and trying to make my mind understand it will not win this battle" (which my mind countered with money, family, futures, work, meals, animal psychology, the meaning of life, laundry lists and motherhood) the cogniscense that today was 03/06/09 (by Aussie calendric reckoning - not so "oooh prescient" in certain sectors of the Northern Hemisphere, no doubt).

This blog has been written in at least seventeen ways since that moment between sleeping and weeping for the need... (oh, and I cleaned the kitchen too)

We must be glad for the escape of at least thirteen of them.

One of them would have been so poignant you would have kept looking at the top of the page to wonder who was guest posting.

I am sure one of them would have had you all nodding and thinking "oh yeah, me too" and then we all would have cried.

There was one that may well have got a lot up in arms and we could have had some warfare in comments - good thing that one cantered into the pre-dawn sky.

Unfortunately for you, this is what we got - another post of nothing, all about me and going nowhere.

Ah well, there is always tomorrow.

Stomach of iron

As I say to people who bring on the "morning sickness" type questions - I should have been a brood mare because me and this pregnancy thing get on just fine.

In fact, it is a good thing me and Mr Right weren't childhood sweethearts, because this blog would be about the 16 children sending a mother mad, rather than the more constrained version of events I offer.

Only 6 things make me chunder.

1. Seeing another person throwing up. Doesn't always guarantee results, but will create dry retches at the very least. Another good reason I am not a nurse.
2. Food poisoning - although it has to be pretty poisonous food to get me right to the porcelain recepticles door.
3. Gastro - and we aren't talking about that at the moment, because it is visiting the house and I don't want it to think it is welcome to stay.
4. Fried spinach - yes, who would dry fry spinach and then give his pregnant girlfriend not only the visual option but also the full olfactory impact of the dish? That would be P., 'Salina's father.
5. Ulcers - I have only had this phenomenon once, but it was a long six months (but a welcome relief from the extra 15 kilos I lost during the journey - the last 5 after the extras not so much) of extreme hunger and tossing up the decision to eat knowing it was likely going to end in the can, or not to eat for the same calorific ending.
6. Migraines - and the funny thing is, since stopping taking the pill I have not had ONE of these suckers. Coincidence, anyone?

Its funny - everyone is MOST concerned about the chucking aspect of early pregnancy - which I don't get - but they are rather averse to descriptions of any other side-effects.

Someone asked the question the other day and I advised no to the barfing but was as windy as a boatrace - apparently that fell in to the TMI category.

I swear, this is NOT going to turn into a pregnancy blog (well, as much as my brain will alow) but I am hoping to goodness that the headache I awoke with this morning and the reveille I was playing was more to do with not drinking enough water and the cabbage in the salad last night than anything to do with numbers 3 or 6 - because then we will ALL be praying that we were talking about aching breasts and the dearth of maternity clothing options!

Oh what a beautiful morning...

If I was in any way concerned about how V and I would react to having a newborn in the house as an early morning alarm system, Eddie is putting my mind at rest.

For a start, if the squarking begins before sunrise I throw mean looks his way and try to get back to sleep. We all know how well THAT works for me.

V rolls over.

If Eddie's whines and insistences get overpowering, I will try to entice him within arms length to wring his neck pat him into submission.

V rolls over.

If the sun rises OR Eddie starts making threats (i.e. starts laying on the "do you really want me to go and wake up 'Salina because I can, you know" sort of miaows) I will get out of bed, generally muttering about cat stew or orange slippers, and take it to the kitchen with him.

V rolls over.

So I have no illusions. I am going to be a total cow come calving time and will have to perfect my dig in the ribs technique - either that, or get over my "protect my eldest" instinct (heck, she won't be an only then) and let the cat go wake her.

Hmmm, I think I have just found the perfect solution to the whole "where the heck will be put the bassinette" conundrum. Thanks for helping me sort that one.

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In other news, our good friend Gastro has been for a visit.

We thought "psychosomatic" at first when 'Salina complained of a sore tummy (heck, day off mid-week, just finished a playdate, we are boring - all good reasons) however we figured it had to be a fairly deep-rooted aversion to school on Friday when she started - well, I will let you use your imagination on what she started, but it set a few "gee whizz, she might be sick" bells in our heads.

Two days later and she is still off her tucker with above unmentioned side effects - and it is now Saturday, so the whole skiving off school reasoning is out the window.

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Anyway, off to the shops - alone. V gets to be chief nurse for a few hours - he got plenty of practice at that during the last round of lurgy so I know he can handle without too many meltdowns.

I don't think it wise, however, to go and spend time with my friends and their newborn in the hospital today.

The great unwashed - well, I am willing to take their chances that I won't be Gastro Mary for them.

That gorgeous little sweetheart I won't take such chances on.

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Thank you all for the excitement and congratulations. We have a long way to go yet, and as my family will possibly mention, I tend to play the excitement cards pretty close to my chest - but beneath the poker-face, there is indeed joy (mingled with a great deal of "possible use of profanity it has taken me 10 years to get to what I have now and I am starting over again?" and an underlying fiscal quiver) - lots of awe and joy.

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Oh - and Trace wondered why the tag was "parasitic alien life-forms"?

Well, I would show you, but Firefox is having a problem with pop-ups (which is really annoying) so I can't upload an image. And I could go use my arch-nemesis IE except then it would mean I would have to log in, and I can never remember my password so I have to generate another one and - well, the number of steps I would have to go through makes it unviable for this beautiful morning.