Between Feeds: Yer Phone’s Ringin’.

Welcome to a new blogging series/thing/just because I miss you people where I share snippits of life that happens between feeding Isla and well, feeding Isla.

I should preface this one by mentioning that the only people who call our house phone are my parents, my husband-when-he-isn’t-in-the-house, and those annoying recordings-trying-to-sell-double-glazing-to-people-who-rent.

And so, this morning, I get a call on the house phone.  From my not-so-old midwife.  About a baby group.

I may have ended the call with ‘Iloveyou, thanks.’ On autopilot, with baby brain, holding the wrong phone and thinking of other people. 

And then this happened:

Neil: Did you just say ‘I love you.’?

Me: No. ‘Aye, lovely.’

Neil: No, you just told her you loved her.

Me: Did not.

Neil: Did, too.

Me:  Did I?

Neil: You did.

Me: Oh, well.  She already thinks I’m weird.

Mama Reads: Tigers In Red Weather

I must be feeling better. Started reading again, in between not entirely impolite requests for boob juice. For our anniversary, Neil got me a subscription to The Willoughby Book Club.

I do believe he wrote and told them ‘my wife enjoys books that include gin and dysfunctional families.’ Bam!

Tigers In Red Weather

Kudos to the company for sending me a book I don’t already own and for sending Isla a story book!

What are you reading these days?

My Dear Girl

I promise I meant to post before this, but I suddenly got very busy making a beautiful human.

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Isla Madelyn, born a little early, but still via the sunroof, on June 27th.

We are now home, enjoying cuddles and curry.

More stories to follow.

That Time It Wasn’t The Flu

It was the second day of NaNoWriMo, and I had the flu. I was also late, but every other month that doesn’t seem to matter much. One of my ovaries is shy. Or lazy.

Anyway. I watched the flu episode of The Golden Girls and then sat down to write. And sneeze. Neil was at the gym and I was doing laps to the toilet to pee, between sneezes.

I didn’t write much that day. But I counted. Six times.

I was wearing three layers. And I still had goosebumps.

When Neil got home, I was on the couch breathing from the one nostril I had left.

He raised one of his really perfect eyebrows.

‘Whut?’

‘Have you got your period yet?’ There are no secrets in our relationship.

‘Doe.’

The other eyebrow went up.

‘I’m dot.’

We’d had the same conversation for the past few months.

Later, Neil left to go see some friends, and I hadn’t left the couch. Except to pee. On the way back from trip 11, I counted again. On my calendar. Both of my eyebrows went up.

The next morning, I was as late as late ever was. And awake in the dark. So was Neil.

‘Should I pee on a stick?’

‘I think so.’

There was a test burning a hole in my wicker drawers.

‘What if I’m not?’

‘What if you are?’

‘Let’s do this.’ I hurled myself into the chair, sat down on another seat. I might have peed into a cup I pilfered from Broadway, right after Neil said, ‘Fire when ready.’

‘Really?’

‘Kinda makes sense.’

I did the deed, and then made Neil take the cup out of the room. I didnotwanttoseeit.

And so. He paced. I sat. Goosebumps.

I saw Neil’s feet first. Usually, I don’t like his feet, but that day we were OK.

I looked at his feet, because I could not look at his face. Until I did. It looked different from the other times.

‘Do you want to see it?’

‘I don’t know. Do I?’

He flashed it. And my eyes went from the plus sign to his face and back. In slow motion.

‘Oh, God. No.’

And my husband said, ‘Yes.’

‘NONONO.’

And I’m holding onto Neil, because y’know, I want to. And because I might have fallen off the toilet.

Neil cried before I did.

‘Let me see it again,’ I said.  A blur of blue.

‘Is that a yes?’ I asked.

‘An emphatic yes.’

And then I cried.

And we went back to bed. Where I threw up. ‘Not the flu,’ I said.

We’re holding on. ‘What do we do now?’ Neil asked.

‘Go to Disney World?!’

‘What?’

‘Never mind,’ I said.

We’re holding on.

‘Well, that went well,’ we said.

Hold The Gin

And so, Happy New Year!  There’s been a very good reason for my unintentional, over-long ‘hiatus’.

Meet Zerbert:

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Zerbert has been baking for 13 and a half weeks now and will be appearing in early July.

We found out really early.  Because I’m weird.  The time between the 5.30 AM pee stick on November 3rd and the 9.30 AM photo session on Friday was the longest wait of my life.

Neil put an embargo on early pregnancy blogging, and I found I couldn’t talk about anything else.  Every second word out of my mouth was ‘baby’.  Or ‘sore’ and ‘boobs’.  And ‘barf, going to’.

I promise, my vocabulary has improved.  I hope.

I’m back.  More pregnancy shenanigans here this week.  Now with less barf.  You’re welcome.

 

Let’s Go To The Videotape!

You might want to get some popcorn.

Here are the highlights from our wedding video:

 

by Adam at Inspire Video.

And I would marry Neil every day.

 

What Did I Miss?

And so, you know that working-from-home gig?  Not so much.  Now I’m just home.

I’ve been recharging by sniffing books and drinking Pumpkin Spice Lattes.  Last weekend, I made Neil go out and get me one.  This involved leaving our bed and then the entire house.  I almost felt bad.  Maybe.

I’ve wanted to write here, really I have.  But I couldn’t get past:

I should really be doing a job I love.

I’m taking vitamins and they are giant.

October is awesome and so close to NaNoWriMo.  (Yes, again.  Yes, really.  Keep the faith. This will be my theme song.  You’re welcome.)

I freaking love my husband.

DANCING.  In the afternoon.  By myself.  To Starship.

But I missed you guys.  To catch me up, please share a link to your favourite post from the last four weeks.

And, because I’m curious:

Where are you from?

Where does your heart live?

What’s your favourite book?

What song is stuck in your head right now?

And since this is kind of coffee talk (pretend we all have teleportation devices.  It could happen), how do you take your coffee?

Talk amongst yourselves.

Mike Myers, Madonna and Roseanne Barr as their...

Mike Myers, Madonna and Roseanne Barr as their characters on SNL (Photo credit: Wikipedia)