crying over spilt milk... Got Milk?

OK so I continue ranting from my last post... The breast feeding has become a lot easier... I would like to shout out to everyone who sent words of encouragement through this time...

Bebe A has lost a bit too much weight -the nurse and pediatrician are concerned and hence the start to fatten Bebe A for Christmas.
Yes I know that babies can lose up to 10% of their body weight but Bebe A has lost 15% of next to no weight... (as serious as this is I cant help wonder why its so hard for me - my apologies for making it about me)

I was then advised that buying an express machine was the way to go, so I reached out to family and friends for their advice - Thank you all.

We (my baby daddy and I) went to buy a machine for our breastfeeding ways. My Husband is very funny when his brother phones him and asks what he is doing his standard response is "We are breastfeeding" - this is way funnier than me writing this I promise.

Well back to the Expressing Express Machine I got a Medula mini electric swing - I looked at it for 2 days, took another day to clean it and on the 4th day I made my attempt at being a cow, I took the plunge and expressed oh my joy when I got 5ml of milk... insert happy milking dance... things got better and then worse and then better... To get a little bit of milk from your boobies takes some time. So when my jar of 7ml of hard pumping milk fell over... damn right I was crying over spilt milk.

Boobie Trapped!

So today is Bebe A's 2 week birthday... Happy birthday to us!

It is here that I can tell you how happy I am... we both are... I smile during the middle of the night whilst I change a stinky nappy but one thing that doesn't have me smiling is Breast Feeding... the blisters are not funny...

If I compare the pain of the C-Section to my sore boobies - I take the pain of them slicing me any day...
Yet I preserver - I have questioned my madness at continuing this practice - well I cant stop now (we just spent a lot of money on an expressing machine and I need to get my use from it).

I can tell you that nursing Bebe A has taken over my life and I don't mean the 2 to 3 hour feeds. I look at babies, toddlers, children, teenagers and adults and ask out loud were you breast fed? did your mother struggle or was it easy? Or the mommies out there; was breast feeding easy? did you have booby pain? 

Some of us - not me - are lucky to "nip the crying, hungry baby in the bud" others (queue me) have to feel the pain as the baby settles in for a feed.

Thank goodness for Facebook - this keeps me going in the wee wee hours of the morning...

So for now my next challenge is having to Breast feed my baby in public, with a cover of course, but how does one do this in a ladylike manner I ask you? How do I do this without feeling like a tit!

a note to bebe a (that somehow never got posted onto the blog)

In less than 24 hours we will be parents... are we scared yes? are we excited yes? all these emotions... are we ready? well, umm...
We can promise you that we will do the best we can at this parenting thing and remember that it is very new to us. We promise to protect and love you infinity and a day.
We can't wait to meet you Bebe A.


We love you already
Momma and Daddy A
x  x  x

BeBe A's Shower



It was a surprise and there were tears in my eyes.... How cool is the cake?



“Dr Horton heard there was to be a little hoo!

So he sent me to entertain you!”



“I brought Thing 1

And Thing 2

And a fish

In a dish!”

just a 100th of the pressies that we got... even the DIY project was hot!

More pics to follow... we partied hard - Who has a nappy pinata at a Baby shower? pick me! pick me!

“I am so parched, but don’t give me milk I am lactose intolerant!” Dr Suess on the day... so of course wine it would be as she entertained me :)

Not for sensitive readers... 8 a Bebe!

As I entered my 8 month of being pregnant I realised that Gaviscon tastes good with everything! Heartburn is not my friend especially waking up in the middle of the night needing to stack pillows as high as the ceiling - one hint of my head being parallel to the bed invokes a burning nausea.

A typical night’s “sleep”:

9pm                       fall asleep

9:10pm                wake up go to the toilet

10:00pm               eventually get comfortable, get my breath back

10:42pm               wake up from a horrible noise (what was that) oh wait it was me snoring

10:57pm               still getting comfortable have managed to get my breathing down to a normal rate no rushing to hospital for an oxygen mask for me…

1am                       wake up to pee

3am                       took 20minutes to get comfortable but need to wake up and go for a…you guessed it… Wee!

And so this continues till the sunrises. My husband is disliking me so much… like I enjoy sleeping on my sides that continue to get numb and ache… that I enjoy breathing through my mouth as my nasal passages make their own little song as I try breath in and out…         

It is during the 8^th month that I love my incredible boobies… I do not love my “cankles” (calves and ankles have merged into one) they have pretty much formed by the end of me getting ready for work in the morning.

What does upset me is when people say: “shame look how swollen your feet look” - when it so happens on days where I am having the “better-non-fat-feet” day.

Still loving the fact I have no muffin top...

"i show you muffin top"

Any top I wear makes me feel great… no fat rolls for me No sirree! The love handles are no more; I haven’t had this great experience since I was 14 years old ( I refer to that as the good ol’ I mean… good young days)

It is also during this time where a pain starts pressing on my groin… the pressure hurts…and I think that is why a lot of pregnant women have a waddle or a special camel walk… it’s all about creating momentum as you put your first foot forward and continuing in said fashion until desired location even if it to the loo.

Last but not least the ever expanding belly/bebe makes you realise how much one cannot take gravity for granted it is here that stopping exercise wasn’t the best idea. I did mention to my husband that I shouldn’t have a bath if he wasn’t around and his response was simple “why are you scared you will get to a point where you can’t get out the bath” as insulted as I was the answer was a simple “yes!”

Bebe A’s Baby Shower was a definite Pregnancy high and I will be posting pictures soon…

It’s been awhile since my last confession…

I am now 32 weeks preggers and baby is about minus 8 weeks old and we are going strong (well almost)

It appears my daughter-to- be has picked up on our family “Drama Queeyness “- throw in some really cute aunties, a jolling granny and a mother overseas – The result is pandemonium…

So where do I start?

Set scene:  I sat down for a celebratory cup of tea my chair at the office I sip and enjoy the moment of 7 months 28 weeks (music  in the background… matchbox 20’s “look how far we’ve come”)

It is at this moment that Bebe A decides she doesn’t like this and like a broken record the grand illusion of beautiful pregnant Chanaynay went down the toilet with my tea.

 Hello 3^rd trimester…

Sometime later we head to one of our many scans. It is here we find out Bebe A is breach and has the umbilical cord around her neck – are we worried? Um well… you have just told the 2 most over analyzing worriers ever. We are sent home with instructions of monitoring baby’s movement. Easier said than done when the placenta is at the front of your tummy!

Life continues…. No it doesn’t… my parental units are soaking up the rain on a barge in the UK and that leaves Aunty S and Aunty T in charge and they are so cute,  they are scared for us upon hearing the news from the gynae – I do at this point question if it’s the news or my mom they are more scared of. I happily give myself afternoon bed rest to monitor baby’s movements. My gran then decides to go jolling at the local singles club in town with her friend – yes you read right… My Granny!

Granny then gets sick and Aunty S and Aunty T and while they are taking her to the hospital for some doctor  time,  they try convince me to just pop in to check on Bebe A while they are there (they are quite funny J)

I won’t lie I quite enjoyed my aunts phoning me – I really do love them so much. So Thank you lovely ladies!

Life continues… and then comes crashing down on Friday  11:03am I start feeling ill, my tummy starts cramping I assume its “Braxton hicks contractions” Worried stress mode kicks in… I phone a friend and ask what are Braxton Hicks contractions? What do they feel like? Satisfied with her answer,  I then proceed to feel really really yuck. I got to my cousins house for lunch and lay on her couch all the while dying and cursing Braxton. I feel nauseous but of course you still need to eat and feed your baby. Bad Idea!  The result was a free trip to the toilet face down, the cramps get worse and so does the vomiting everyone starts worrying (this is what happens when you have a previous history of spotting and miscarriage you don’t take chances) after my mom to the gynae  we head to the hospital to monitor baby. (I would like to make note that this always seems to happen around a weekend)

My mom takes me to the maternity ward, the Sisters are lovely, there are no beds so they put me in the birthing room on a very hard bed and strap my tummy up to the monitor to check on baby’s heartbeat and see if there are any contractions. It is now that Bebe A who has been so quite this week (I had been worrying about her movement) decides that she is not going to stop moving so she kicks away while they try and monitor her heartbeat she is gonna be a DJ. My husband rushes to my side like a hero in time to hold a kidney tray as I vomit into it. So my mom and my loving tag team kidney bowls and I silently reflect… Its love all the way baby!

What's the name of the game!

As the girl news descends upon us my mom and I do what every mom and daughter team do, we go and buy something pink.

Daddy A and I have agreed on a boy’s name (yes Baby A we thought you were a boy but let’s not go into too much detail as I don’t want to be blamed for future psychological issues) but the naming game is not fun anymore especially when your Husband is so unreasonable J

Celebrities put themselves out there with naming their children; I think it is quite cool – when I first heard of Kingston/Shiloh/Brooklyn/Harlow as names I was undecided but the name grow on you; that or am I just a wannabe celeb-hippy at heart. Congrats to the Beckhams on their daughter Harper Seven- thanks for making it even more difficult for me  to think of a name.  My mom, my aunt and I decide that we too can be original and out there with our names. Please note that the baby daddy was not involved in the outcome of my number one name option. He prefers things more simple.  So in honour of naming the baby after a food, number, hair product, town or favourite alcoholic beverage -the conclusion is with the help of the local South Africa twist I am steering towards.

Hunters  Ten Woop-Woops Piesang* Jozi** X Ablett

With this name I believe BABY A will do things… “Great things” ... mmh the vote is out.

I have also been warned that naming your baby is a personal thing as every name you have on your list will relate to someone ugly, mean or snotty that somebody else knew – and it seems these people relate the names back to when they were kids never now as adults.

Apparently star signs need to be taken into account, when naming your child, so do I need to bring in Libra or Scorpio as a name or should I stick to my star sign Aquarius… grr so much pressure.

As parents you have to enjoy the name as you are the ones who will use it the most.  Now should we go for a middle name? Yes I say, as when I am making a point to my perfect child or when said perfect  child has made me angry, I believe  using her whole name will make more of an impact at getting my point across. Ok that is my opinion, it doesn’t necessarily  have to be a good opinion – give me a break- I am still in the dreaming stage of what parenting is all about.

So we wait for our Baby Girl to arrive and we wait for a sign to help us in the naming game, I myself have the name I want but then so does baby Daddy… Let’s hope our little ray of sunshine… mmh Sunshine now that could maybe work…

*Piesang is banana in Afrikaans

**Jozi is the African slang name for Johannesburg

The Great Reveal...

I cant handle this suspense any longer... so continuing since I left off... there I was tummy in the air looking beached whale-ish... it is revealed to us that we are having a... GIRL!!!

My Husband and I look at each other in absolute shock, on our first 2 scans we were told that she looked like a boy... OK should I tell her... well to late... Surprise little Baby A.

We are having a girl... I come from a family of girls so this shouldn't be a shock, right? No, Still shocked because I have Au paired overseas and locally and I have always looked after boys...

So now I am faced with the fact that I am going to be a GIRL MOMMY...
My mom and aunts just laugh and chant "ooh a mini me" this followed by lots of childish giggling.
I imploringly look at my mom and say surely I was and am the most perfect daughter in the world...
She looks back lovingly and says "Pay-back's a B$%^$"

Scanning genders...

We went for our 4D scan this weekend. Woo-hoo my need to know Baby A's gender has been weighing heavily on my nursery decorating shoulders...

What is the difference between a 2D, 3D and 4D scan? (you ask)
A 2D scan displays 2 dimensions - height and width.
A 3D scan displays 3 dimensions - height, width and depth.
A 4D scan displays 4 dimensions - height, width, depth and movement.
A 4D scan is also referred to as "Live 3D" as the 4th dimension is time which is the actual movement of the baby

So there we were ready for our scan... I had drunk a big cup of coffee (even though the heartburn has been with me for about 4 days - the things we d!o) I had Plan B "show us your gender by being sugared up on chocolate" in my bag, should Baby not cooperate... I will show you baby...

Baby Daddy, Baby Daddy's mommy and daddy watch as I lightly plop myself on the bed like an elegant pregnant fairy...ok more like heaved myself on and so the scan began...

Within minutes the baby showed itself to us... we did get to find out the gender of our future baby and were we shocked? Rhetorical question... not the grandparents of course they were gushing, but Baby Daddy and Baby Momma where like... how do we change this nappy...

The saga of BABY A's gender continues... what do you think?

Pregnancy Card...

Ok so I had all these intentions to write this week and due to this not happening…

 I can officially pull the… dun dun dun…

PREGNANCY CARD (available at all respectable dealers near you). Call now to order one from me and you will get absolutely nothing thrown in for free…

My Back Hurts, My body’s a sight, My hips Wobble from left to right, Say ooh I’m preggers, So listen to me Rant! I can use this card as I want PREGNANCY CARD…

Yes I have pulled this card a lot lately… Hello I am growing a human bean

This is a week of yet another emotional roller coaster ride of “Yes”… Emotions. (My poor, poor husband) Questions like who am I plague me… What is my purpose?

Heck, the baby hasn’t even been born (Save everyone around me when this happens!) I guess with this reflection I need to start building friendship points.

 

Pregnancy high of the week:

When I stare sideways in the mirror my ARSE and THIGHS are smaller than my TUMMY… ok it has been like this forever but now it’s more defined… my ARSE that is.

Notes to Baby A, from an almost hypochondriac mommy-to-be.

Dear Future Baby A,

You are minus 21 weeks today. Oh, how I remember when you where only minus 4 weeks old (is that right?).  We are just past the halfway mark. Woo-Hoo!

I am writing this letter to tell you that your almost hypochondriac mother has once again been put on bed rest because of cramping and the gynae saying that I have a distressed uterus. I am now stuck in bed for 4 days during winter – this is not necessarily a bad thing but a little disappointing when we have had to sell our rugby tickets and miss seeing all your future aunts and uncles behave in a hilarious drunken manner.

Your dadda to be has something worse than “man-flu” (I can honestly vouch for him feeling so poorly – and it’s not his sickly sighs and groans) He really has been quite good running around to my bed rest needs of food and tea – we really do have ourselves a “keeper”. Bearing in mind I am a model bed-rest patient. I am not demanding, fussy and listen to everything your dadda says.

Your scan shows that you are growing quite nicely 375 grams, your heartbeat is excellent and it looks like you are going to be blessed with your dadda’s legs - nice and long. I feel you move more and more these days and I can’t wait till the day that your dadda can feel you kick.

The above scan is Baby A lazing in the stargazing position and that's the medical term.

Your bedridden parents realize that we have to take these moments of no children and appreciate them, as feeling sorry for ourselves will be down on our list when you arrive. So for now baby – we can’t wait to meet you and see what you look like, now could you just tell us if you are a boy or girl it would help me a lot. I think you need to realize that I ‘google ‘the end of movies I have this insatiable need to know everything - so your uncooperativeness is not helpful in my quest to plan and be all knowing. I guess I shall take it as my first lesson of parenting 101(check).

Baby A's long legs chilling in the womb...

Your drunken aunties just called me to tell me that they aren’t having fun (I apologize for them in advance)…

Love always

me x

Being Legless!

SMS Text to my Personal Trainer/ Yoga Instructor giving feedback on the day before's gym session:


Good Morning - the slow demise of my leg use really started after I left you yesterday. I have never been so grateful that we have to avoid the tummy area (so help me after this baby though!). My legs are crying (ok there are moments of whimpering as well) on and off these cries and whimpers continue, they are a cross between tears of joy (they are happy to have worked out and been pushed) moving onto tears of  "what have we done to deserve this we are 'upstanding citizens' of your body". Climbing stairs makes them feel old, getting off a chair makes them feel useless.. I lovingly pat my legs and sigh, I know that it is for a good cause - Killer legs and tight bum here I come. (same time next week then!)

Half way there...

June, the month that signifies half way through a year… time to contemplate if your new year’s revolutions have or are being achieved. It is the month that I am celebrating being half way through my pregnancy. My tummy seems to have grown over night… yay for me, I can’t sleep on my tummy but I can feel the baby so that makes the ongoing heartburn, the tiredness kicking in all the more bearable.

June is also the month my beautiful mom turns 50. This is great milestone, well for the people celebrating… I love and respect my mom and really appreciate her advice. I am lucky that we see each other every day and speak once daily at the week end. Yes world - I am a “Mommy’s Girl”. I guess we don’t want to see our parents’ age they are the ones that will be there forever.  I love you mom.

June is also the month my cousin (who is skinny, clever and thin – vomit) decided that saving money was the order of the day by buying a box of blonde hair dye - the result: once beautiful blonde hair; now blonder down to the tips with orange roots. It is here that I learn put Jensen violet into shampoo instead of directly onto the hair which results in orange roots with blue and purple streaks. The worst part she still looks great – did I mention she had a baby 7 weeks ago… Yes she is annoyingly being so perfect looking like an Japanese hot anime character. Fair enough the look only lasted a day as our hairdresser saved the day.

I leave you with the funniest Facebook status’s I have read so far this month:

‘Facebook Friend’ I wonder if French people think in French I think that would be so irritating…

Of All the things I have lost... I miss my Mind the most!

It is true my husband has a new pet name for me – “mush brain” it all started when I fell pregnant…

And it hasn’t stopped since. The real thing that sticks out of my husband’s mind would be me continuously misplacing my house and car keys (Continuously!). I obviously would not admit that I had forgotten where or what I had done with these keys it is never me… it is the husband’s fault - it has been know on occasion that I would make my the H-dawg (husband dawg) get out of the car, come around to the driver seat so that I may check his pockets as I believed I had in fact given my house keys to him and not his own. Keys have progressed to laptops, lunches and handbags never minding the whole spell check on important emails and more importantly blog posts.  My husband not sure of this “behavior” would go through varying degrees of emotions (Hello – who is the walking hormone here, emotions are my department) The emotions would range through shock, anger and now pure complacence as fighting/arguing/disagreeing with a pregnant women will not get you anywhere. You could ask him, but he is currently sitting in his timeout chair and will be there for a while - I added on extra time for the “you should know better”.

I can’t be one of those skinny girls who say I miss my tight ASS and flat TUMMY now that I am preggers– these two things, sadly, have always been missing in action. What I can tell you is that I don’t miss my jelly belly, I love the roundness my tummy is taking even though nobody can see I am knocked up yet - people justthink I am getting hungrier* by the day, I don’t care. *“Hungry” to replace the word “Fat”. I have a friend who has taught her children that people are not fat but are in fact hungry. Why? you may ask.  This is a prevention mechanism of one of those “embarrassing children moments” The moment when your child points and asks really loudly “Mommy, why is that person so fat?” I think its pure brilliance. 

You have many ‘pregnancy illusions’- this is how you believe things will be once you are pregnant. Everyone will give advice but one of my best piece of advice given thus far is eat chocolate and ignore everyone’s advice, but only take the advice on the eating of chocolate (love it!)

These are a few of my pregnancy day dreaming goals:

1.       I would exercise as much as I wanted, doing what I wanted – this baby will just have to fit into my schedule. Well when you have  a scare resulting at casualty in the hospital, it is then that you have to evaluate your priorities - 9 months doesn’t seem so long to take things a little easy – you realize the important thing is that the baby you have desperately waited for will be healthy.

2.       I will wear elegant flowy long dresses, hair blowing in the breeze as I look fabulous glowing and pregnant– Wow - was I mistaken! Alas you also don’t get flowy dresses in winter and you don’t want to rush out to buy a piece of clothing you will wear for a day. (I just reread this part and thought since when did I become so practical?) Maternity selection of clothing sucks - well at least here in South Africa.

3.       I will not try not being OCD when it comes to things I eat or drink– (FAIL) This happens every pregnant person will have their own stance of what they will or will not do. I have decided that raw meat, yolky eggs, blue cheese and alcohol are not  negotiable  but I will have a cup of coffee or a cup of tea should I want. Now at this point people will have an opinion tea/coffee that is so bad, my non-advice is stick with what works for you.  I had no problem going to a malaria area as we had a bag just dedicated to mosquito repellant whereas I have a friend whose family will not negotiate on this. I had a miscarriage and I learnt that whatever you do be comfortable in your choices that you don’t ever blame yourself for the result.

4.       Lastly I will not be hormonal or emotionally – need I say more… Family and friends I apologize.

Even with the hearburn that decended upon me this week i am loving being pregnant... it would be even better when one of my closest friends can start her journey in becoming a mommy – a journey that she so deserves to be on (I am positive this will be any month nowJ)

Ps. this blog has been written twice due to me forgetting to save…

Pregnancy and Peeing

Today I am 18 weeks… I imagined it to be 4 and a half months but when I read websites especially the American ones some say you are officially 5 months… this is really confusing Well Happy 18 week baby!

I would love to be able to tell you if the baby is a boy or girl. I can’t I would love to say that the baby has my lips and daddy’s ears I can’t. We went for a scan on Friday and the already stubborn child of mine does not show face or sex. Next visit a chocolate and sweet fizzy cold drink will be consumed before the scan – bad mother that I willingly put my baby on a sugar high.

 I am trying to not sound ungrateful - hearing the heartbeat was amazing (cue tears and emotionally hormonal pregnant mum-to-be) but I did make my husband stop to buy me food so I could emotionally eat my way out to my disappointment of simply not knowing. My cousin didn’t want to know and I bet you their little boy was sticking his privates out at every scan.

The grannies loved it we did get to see the little bugger’s hands (ah bless) and his back legs as my mom so proudly put it. Walking away from the scan what I can tell is that the baby/snot/pip/bump whatever you would like to name the monster lying on my bladder.

Ok so Baby chilling on your bladder equates to never frequenting so many public toilets in your entire existence. A potential book deal should be in the works as I have become a toilet fundi. In my toilet experiences I will be the one to walk into the cubicle that someone has just had the freshest poo or the one with skid marks ok this subject is crap (hehehe) but I could talk about it for hours. How do you know you need to pee when you are pregnant? You will experience the baby tap dancing on your bladder - sharp uncomfortable pain especially at night bearing in mind you have made a toilet stop only 15min before and what happens is either a gush of wee or more often than not a  pathetic trickle

Last night after dinner, pee check, I was lazing around like Lady Muck when I felt a movement and I thought:

1.       mmh is that a bowel movement (don’t laugh IBS is a serious thing) J

2.        No it must be the baby experiencing hiccups. It was a real flutter it took me a few minutes to realize (please note your brain will turn to mush)

That was the baby’s first movement….  Silly grin stayed with me and my baby daddy for the rest of the night.

Im Back and the Rumours are True!

I have been dragging my feet to write but it’s only because I have great news to share but have been told to keep mum (heheh pun intended) about our news…

Well the rumours (ok there weren’t rumours I just like to think I am a famous person) . Yes the rumours are true my husband and I are knocked up.

Conversation of me breaking the news to my very intelligent husband:

Me: I have something to tell you

Him: what?

Me: we are knocked up?

Him: how did this happen?

Me: well its starts when a man and women love each other and… HELLO?? I really dont look forward to the birds and bees talk to my future children..

So due to our baby making not starting off on the greatest foot last year we had a miscarriage, and then we had a small scare of which I will save for another post as I let it sink in that I am going to be a mommy preferably a yummy mummy (once again grand illusions of grandeur)… Oh My Word!!

Yes all my followers and yes you the paparazzi its true I am preggers!

So my blogs now take off from finding abs to losing them… which is fantastic news for me and all about the joys of my pregnancy journey.

Peeing at the Dentist with Dyll

One could say Pea and I have this healthy obsession to talk about our lady parts business and anything to do with being a LADY. Much like men who like to scratch and fondle around their nether regions – theirs is a bit more subconscious - unawares sometimes to their surroundings. We simply love to talk about what we are going through more when we think I mean know we are being entertaining…

I had my yearly dreaded visit to none other than my Gynae I say dreaded as it invokes fear to my fellow lady comrades in the quest to be healthy inside and out.

We had this discussion the other day who would you rather visit The Dentist Vs. The Gynae…round one, I will not discuss similarities as this involves talks of body openings. The dentist hurts more and takes way more time. You can’t talk, did I mention the dentists really hurts you and then proceeds to embarrass you with both hands in your month by asking you a question of which you answer something like argg..warrrggg… uggg followed by copious amount of spit. Hello Nurse lady you supposed to be sucking the saliva up with your machine that shreeks in my ears… never mind the… DRILL

After backwards and forwards of…(dun dun dun)… THE DENTIST VS.THE GYNAE discussion, ok maybe 5 min chat it has become apparent that the loud mouths and not to shy ones go to none other than the dentist.

Guess who I chose… I choose the gynae. Why? Well firstly he doesn’t spend hours hurting me (ok whatever I say now will just go north and south but not the direction I intend it to go) so I choose to stop on my reasons what I can say is that everyone tries to make your time as pleasant as possible in the gynae.

One experience I do hate is the peeing in the jar. This needs to be timed almost like an army infiltration into some 3^rd world country with really amazing computer technology to steal nuclear warheads. 

Water needs to be drunk so that there is a need to go pee when arriving at the gynae, especially if you cant pee on demand. SO I arrive and there I sit not to proud of being able to give bottles of urine samples, I am bouncing,  I can feel it coming out me in the form of tears… I make it in time… even the nurse says we only need one sample wow wanna her see her not spill… (evil laugh)

SO flash forward 2 minutes and there I was lying on the bed and I asked my male gynae his opinion on the big Dentist vs. Gynae debate and he says simply, he chooses the Gynae… now I think is this man not telling me something about himself.

Now due to me not falling pregnant immediately as I would have hoped… I had my child’s name planned Egypt or Cairo (guess where we went on honeymoon) I have now got to get off my bum and head to the doctor for blood tests…. Apparently only teenagers not wanting babies get pregnant super fast…

I have passed the stage of worrying being taunted by late periods and pregnancy test (I only took one this month ok 2).

I go away knowing that beauty really is skin deep… tell that to my ovaries, uterus and pancreas.. liver could be a whole new ball game…

I have fleas (Dyll)

It appears I have fleas as I have these red dots that keep popping up all over my body and man are they itchy. I have ruled out chicken pox, measles and allergic reaction by asking my very educated friends and family.  How do I stop this I need help people any suggestions are welcome.

Today’s post is more of a follow up in my previous revolutions:

Day 1 of quest for abs:

I awaken which is a feat in itself head to the gym for my very own personal trainer whom I am going to love and hug and hate and maybe beat up  - who does not show up. Day 1 over… more gripping details to follow shortly.

I have added another new year’s revolution to my list:

Finish the degree I started many many moons ago. I haven’t studied in like a zillion years, yes I am petrified as my brain seems to shu………t……….. ok I'm back… see its really bad?

And to make matters worse I have this mental block in the dreaded accounting module department. I have made it my mission to be friends with accountants, book keepers, auditors and anyone in the accounting department, hoping that just hanging around them  will allow for their superior knowledge of ledgers and all boring things related to accounts will rub off on me and that I will become a more of a  well “balanced” person. But all I have received so far from these party animal alcoholics is that A + L = E yes, ALE… I have temporarily delayed this module of basic accounting till next semester (can’t wait) in the meantime I will strive to be positive in all things involving and will “credit” this positive attitude to wanting to pass this module… so bad!!

                                                    

Another thing I am embracing this year by not being over excited by everything, and taking my long term plans one week at a time!

Talking about a New Years Revolution- with Dyll

Happy Happy Merry Merry…

What a great way to start a year by jotting down all your revolutions. I don’t do resolutions as I feel that I have the passion to embrace each goal I set forth (some may disagree)

So my first goal is based on the massive FOOD HANGOVER I experienced right through Christmas. The problem with a food hangover is that it is very different to a Booze Hangover.

I shall set the scene: Imagine you and your crazy bunch of friends are celebrating the victory of once again coming 2^nd in your soccer match”  you know - celebrating something “really” important - so what does any self respecting celebration call for? Thank you for asking… it calls for shooters and booze.

The next morning  you awaken to the sound of the pulse in your feet pounding in your ears, your fashion style is EMO (please research if you don’t know what an EMO is) and you are feeling like a barrel of recycled monkey puke… the advice you are given ranges from greasy breakfast/take away, banana mayonnaise milkshake or a green salad  - Everyone suddenly  gives advice on their “guaranteed hangovered recovering remedies” and more often than not  the common advise heard in the halls of pubs, bars and homes everyone is bite the dog… metaphorically speaking of course this is translated to have another drink and feel better - I will show you vodka redbull!!

But alas on a food hangover you cannot eat another packet of Christmas pies or a turkey – you know, the evils that made you feel this awful - I should have shared the turkey and the stuffing L so there you are button undone feeling extremely sorry for yourself, it’s the hours after the great big Christmas meal to the leftover meal that makes one ask “Why, Why, Why”

What to do in this state, well obviously start your Christmas Revolutions for 2011 procrastination being a vice that you will say goodbye to in the new year because you only  start after standing on the scale on the first Monday in January, it is then that you decided that Tracy Chapman had it wrong. Talking about a Revolution, start with a wimper L not whisper…

Step One of NYR

To be original in this common goal writing predicament we find ourselves in I am thinking that my goals will not include talk of weight loss, I will not say I want to lose 100kg, I will not stereotype myself and be such a typical girl. Instead I solemnly swear to eat-less and save my allowances of chocolate, booze and overindulging for really really special occasions until I have lost either 99.1kg or 20kg around my ankles.

My other problem is my abs or should I mention lack of. It all started last year  when I was laying on the emergency bed in the doctors rooms - I had come down with a severely attacking  tummy bug otherwise known as exploding diarrhea. I was cramping and not to sound melodramatic thought I was going to die.

So the doctor tells me to pull my stomach in, whilst he does his “Doctor Check” he then asks or rather tells  in a slightly frustrated voice “ Pull –in-your –tummy” I then say in clenched teeth… I AM!

At this point he told me told me to get abs.

I then left the doctors rooms miserable but on a mission “finding ABS”. I then did what any intelligent, sassy lady does I turned to my trusted friend “google” who I am sad to say let me down and couldn’t help me buy abs. Nothing. Dust. Not even the kind where you just ad water and have “Walla” Instant ABs

2011 will be the year of the ABS… so help me. (More on my gripping tale of “The AB’s – emotion to the core” to follow shortly)

As for the rest of the revolutions there are so many and not even Greek civilization was ruined in a day.