oh my god my tits are ENORMOUS
I can't see my belly let alone my feet
& I am literally EXPLODING out of clothes
god, finally gravity (or at least whatever zeppelin force is buoying these puppies up )is back on my side & it's totally wasted
i have to sleep on my back to avoid the altitude-induced nose bleeds but then I have nightmares about being pummeled in the face with volleyballs
Showing posts with label BabyBabyBaby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BabyBabyBaby. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Bully for me...
I've never felt so bullied in my life as I have this past month or so.
So many people with their questions & advice & demands & directions.
Why did my suddenly becoming a mother again mean that I need to be directed like a child?
Ok, so to set the record straight...
I know DeadBeatDad and DeadBeatDad2Be should pay maintenance. But I have handed that over to the government to chase - and maybe Legal Aid when I am officially unemployed - because I simply cannot spend my days and my sparse cash on crying, demanding phone calls to invisible men.
My family can do without the money, we have until now, but we won't survive if I'm a nervous, crying wreck.
I still remember the day my six-year-old daughter told my mother 'I think it's good now - Mum doesn't cry all the time anymore'...and she was talking about before the divorce (so don't ever think they don't notice).
I will NOT go back there to that dark, desperate place again.
I know it's only going to be harder once I can't work the same way I do now, or expect the wage I get, but I cannot imagine coming back to work six days and two nights a week when the baby is a year old - and I cannot bear to see all my hard work full apart while this place waits for me to decide what I want to do.
The people I work with deserve a boss who cares and is committed and will still be here in a year's time.
Yes, & maybe my employers can afford to wait around for a year with 'fill-ins' for my job, but can my community? Can the paper?
The 'advisors' tell me I should quit, I should stay, I should demand my fair share, I should squeeze 'them' for all they've got...why do I have to be a blood-sucking bitch?
Aren't I already a cliche without being a bitter, angry, free-loading single mother of three as well?
My kids, all three of my kids, are going to need me at home this time around.
It's the bravest decision I've ever made because I couldn't do it when I had a husband there alongside me, I couldn't trust him to make it all ok while I stayed home to be a Mum. I couldn't risk him fucking up our world again.
But I'm going to trust ME to make it all ok.
& for all those people who have a piece of advice for me - well hold onto it.
Maybe you'll get to say 'I told you so' later - or maybe I'll surprise us all.
So many people with their questions & advice & demands & directions.
Why did my suddenly becoming a mother again mean that I need to be directed like a child?
Ok, so to set the record straight...
I know DeadBeatDad and DeadBeatDad2Be should pay maintenance. But I have handed that over to the government to chase - and maybe Legal Aid when I am officially unemployed - because I simply cannot spend my days and my sparse cash on crying, demanding phone calls to invisible men.
My family can do without the money, we have until now, but we won't survive if I'm a nervous, crying wreck.
I still remember the day my six-year-old daughter told my mother 'I think it's good now - Mum doesn't cry all the time anymore'...and she was talking about before the divorce (so don't ever think they don't notice).
I will NOT go back there to that dark, desperate place again.
I know it's only going to be harder once I can't work the same way I do now, or expect the wage I get, but I cannot imagine coming back to work six days and two nights a week when the baby is a year old - and I cannot bear to see all my hard work full apart while this place waits for me to decide what I want to do.
The people I work with deserve a boss who cares and is committed and will still be here in a year's time.
Yes, & maybe my employers can afford to wait around for a year with 'fill-ins' for my job, but can my community? Can the paper?
The 'advisors' tell me I should quit, I should stay, I should demand my fair share, I should squeeze 'them' for all they've got...why do I have to be a blood-sucking bitch?
Aren't I already a cliche without being a bitter, angry, free-loading single mother of three as well?
My kids, all three of my kids, are going to need me at home this time around.
It's the bravest decision I've ever made because I couldn't do it when I had a husband there alongside me, I couldn't trust him to make it all ok while I stayed home to be a Mum. I couldn't risk him fucking up our world again.
But I'm going to trust ME to make it all ok.
& for all those people who have a piece of advice for me - well hold onto it.
Maybe you'll get to say 'I told you so' later - or maybe I'll surprise us all.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Goldilocks and the D3
I received a phone call from the doctor’s surgery today to tell me my blood results are back and that I’m pretty damn low in Vitamin D.
Fair enough, it explains the tiredness and bruising a little but when she first introduced herself on the phone my breath stopped.
Now, just this week I started taking a general pregnancy multi-vitamin that has already made me feel a little better, especially in the heat when I didn’t want to eat anything but iceblocks.
To put things in perspective, instead of working solidly to my usual Thursday routine today I’ve had ‘the talk’ with my boss and the idea of being officially unemployed next year is making me squeamish, then I had a meeting with a community group that sucked up the rest of the day on patting backs and kissing…cheeks.
So I was very self-aware that my own patience was already at stretching point and I did not want to go to the pharmacy and I had things to do back in the office.
I was already frazzled, I admit that.
…so here’s where it starts heating up.
I front up to the pharmacy with my instruction for 1000 units of Vitamin D.
The pharmacist I’m talking to speaks English as a second language and has a habit of saying ‘yes’ when she means ‘no’ and vice versa.
She pointed out that they had a few choices for me.
There was a choice of 1000 units of Vitamin D (there was something called D3 but we won’t even go there), there was the 250 units and the 500 units but that comes with calcium built in.
I am already taking 250 units of D in my multivitamin and 59mg of calcium.
The instruction says I can take two tablets of the multivitamin daily – I’m only taking one (my argument is we eat well, I only need one, one has made enough of a difference).
…are you keeping up?
Ok – so I can’t take the 1000 unit tablets. That’s too much.
I don't want to buy the 250 units - that really isn’t enough.
But the 500 units has Calcium.
And I asked ‘are there any dangers associated with taking too much calcium’? And the pharmacist said ‘no, your kidneys’, with a worried look on her face.
…still with me?
Now in the middle of this we’ve had three visits behind the desk to consult with the other pharmacist and check the computer for information about this cocktail of minerals, vitamins & trace elements.
Ok – so I walk back to the wall of vitamins and I pull down the one I’m already taking and arrange about $220 worth of bottles in front of me on the counter and start playing that game where the fraudster shuffles cups around in front of you.
‘Ok,’ I say. ‘I can’t take this one,” slide to the right. ‘But this one and this one,’ slide to the left, ‘aren’t enough?’
Then she has her turn.
‘Ah, but this one,’ slide to the right ‘you should be taking two of, and that is too much to take this one as well,’ slide to the left.
‘But I’m only taking one of these,’ feint right, slide back ‘do I need to take two if the one I’m taking is making me feel better?’
‘But your doctor said…’
...stop. Recoup.
‘Can I take too much Vitamin D?’
‘mmmmh? Maybe you should ring your doctor to be sure.’
'But I won't see my doctor until the 30th and I'd like to sort this out now as they implied that I really need to get some more Vitamin D into me.'
And then I asked again.
‘Is there a level of calcium that is unsafe?’
‘No. But your kidneys’
What?! What is that? Is that a ‘no’ or a ‘yes’?
I tried again. From a slightly different angle.
‘Is there a problem if I take too much calcium?’
‘Oh no, calcium is very good for your teeth and bones and when the baby’s teeth and bones are forming…but you should not take too much because it is bad for your kidneys.’
…now, this is where you stop, and breathe.
Because it’s sure as hell what I had to do at that point.
I actually felt myself step back from the counter in some kind of self-censorship of my thoughts...or in preparation for leaping over the lipgloss testers and jelly beans to throttle the mild-manner chemist.
So, while the pharmacist went back to her computer (I'll just check) I stormed out of the pharmacy with two bottles in my hand (unpaid for mind you & valued at roughly the same amount as my eldest child's annual school fees) to where I’d seen the local GP taking getting her hair tinted in the hairdresser’s next door.
The poor be-foiled, be-smocked medico was confronted by a red-faced virago shaking a giant bottle in each hand like maraccas and shouting: ‘can I take this with this without my baby growing tusks or having a concertina spine?’
Her answer: ‘yup – no problem’.
…oh no. I’m not done yet.
Back through the swinging doors of the pharmacy like a gunslinger I strode, slapping down my two bottles amidst the cornucopia of supplements now littering the counter, along with the $80 of giftware I’d somehow collected by osmosis in my half hour of prolonged negotiations.
Shocked by the final amount, I split it between my card and account, already itching to be back at my desk and put as much distance as possible between me and the pharmacist’s eager but uncertain expression.
I stormed up the street like a madwoman with my arms full of rattling bottles and gift-wrapped boxes (I’m sorry, that won’t fit in our bags) only to discover as I unpacked all the bits and bobs into my bag at the office that I HAD JUST SPENT AN EXTRA $66 TO PURCHASE THE ‘EXAMPLE’ VITAMINS I HAD ALREADY BOUGHT A WEEK AGO!
…I may, just possibly, have been sobbing by this point.
So back went the virago, waving a bottle the size of a teapot in front of her.
‘I don’t want this one!’
And the lovely, sweet, mild-looking pharmacist said to me ‘but I don’t know how to refund an account purchase’.
Which is about where the retail assistant made eye contact with me from the depths of the shelves (her eyes urgent and placating, mine wide and manic), leaned over to the pharmacist and whispered ‘F2’.
…and that was juuuust right.
Fair enough, it explains the tiredness and bruising a little but when she first introduced herself on the phone my breath stopped.
Now, just this week I started taking a general pregnancy multi-vitamin that has already made me feel a little better, especially in the heat when I didn’t want to eat anything but iceblocks.
To put things in perspective, instead of working solidly to my usual Thursday routine today I’ve had ‘the talk’ with my boss and the idea of being officially unemployed next year is making me squeamish, then I had a meeting with a community group that sucked up the rest of the day on patting backs and kissing…cheeks.
So I was very self-aware that my own patience was already at stretching point and I did not want to go to the pharmacy and I had things to do back in the office.
I was already frazzled, I admit that.
…so here’s where it starts heating up.
I front up to the pharmacy with my instruction for 1000 units of Vitamin D.
The pharmacist I’m talking to speaks English as a second language and has a habit of saying ‘yes’ when she means ‘no’ and vice versa.
She pointed out that they had a few choices for me.
There was a choice of 1000 units of Vitamin D (there was something called D3 but we won’t even go there), there was the 250 units and the 500 units but that comes with calcium built in.
I am already taking 250 units of D in my multivitamin and 59mg of calcium.
The instruction says I can take two tablets of the multivitamin daily – I’m only taking one (my argument is we eat well, I only need one, one has made enough of a difference).
…are you keeping up?
Ok – so I can’t take the 1000 unit tablets. That’s too much.
I don't want to buy the 250 units - that really isn’t enough.
But the 500 units has Calcium.
And I asked ‘are there any dangers associated with taking too much calcium’? And the pharmacist said ‘no, your kidneys’, with a worried look on her face.
…still with me?
Now in the middle of this we’ve had three visits behind the desk to consult with the other pharmacist and check the computer for information about this cocktail of minerals, vitamins & trace elements.
Ok – so I walk back to the wall of vitamins and I pull down the one I’m already taking and arrange about $220 worth of bottles in front of me on the counter and start playing that game where the fraudster shuffles cups around in front of you.
‘Ok,’ I say. ‘I can’t take this one,” slide to the right. ‘But this one and this one,’ slide to the left, ‘aren’t enough?’
Then she has her turn.
‘Ah, but this one,’ slide to the right ‘you should be taking two of, and that is too much to take this one as well,’ slide to the left.
‘But I’m only taking one of these,’ feint right, slide back ‘do I need to take two if the one I’m taking is making me feel better?’
‘But your doctor said…’
...stop. Recoup.
‘Can I take too much Vitamin D?’
‘mmmmh? Maybe you should ring your doctor to be sure.’
'But I won't see my doctor until the 30th and I'd like to sort this out now as they implied that I really need to get some more Vitamin D into me.'
And then I asked again.
‘Is there a level of calcium that is unsafe?’
‘No. But your kidneys’
What?! What is that? Is that a ‘no’ or a ‘yes’?
I tried again. From a slightly different angle.
‘Is there a problem if I take too much calcium?’
‘Oh no, calcium is very good for your teeth and bones and when the baby’s teeth and bones are forming…but you should not take too much because it is bad for your kidneys.’
…now, this is where you stop, and breathe.
Because it’s sure as hell what I had to do at that point.
I actually felt myself step back from the counter in some kind of self-censorship of my thoughts...or in preparation for leaping over the lipgloss testers and jelly beans to throttle the mild-manner chemist.
So, while the pharmacist went back to her computer (I'll just check) I stormed out of the pharmacy with two bottles in my hand (unpaid for mind you & valued at roughly the same amount as my eldest child's annual school fees) to where I’d seen the local GP taking getting her hair tinted in the hairdresser’s next door.
The poor be-foiled, be-smocked medico was confronted by a red-faced virago shaking a giant bottle in each hand like maraccas and shouting: ‘can I take this with this without my baby growing tusks or having a concertina spine?’
Her answer: ‘yup – no problem’.
…oh no. I’m not done yet.
Back through the swinging doors of the pharmacy like a gunslinger I strode, slapping down my two bottles amidst the cornucopia of supplements now littering the counter, along with the $80 of giftware I’d somehow collected by osmosis in my half hour of prolonged negotiations.
Shocked by the final amount, I split it between my card and account, already itching to be back at my desk and put as much distance as possible between me and the pharmacist’s eager but uncertain expression.
I stormed up the street like a madwoman with my arms full of rattling bottles and gift-wrapped boxes (I’m sorry, that won’t fit in our bags) only to discover as I unpacked all the bits and bobs into my bag at the office that I HAD JUST SPENT AN EXTRA $66 TO PURCHASE THE ‘EXAMPLE’ VITAMINS I HAD ALREADY BOUGHT A WEEK AGO!
…I may, just possibly, have been sobbing by this point.
So back went the virago, waving a bottle the size of a teapot in front of her.
‘I don’t want this one!’
And the lovely, sweet, mild-looking pharmacist said to me ‘but I don’t know how to refund an account purchase’.
Which is about where the retail assistant made eye contact with me from the depths of the shelves (her eyes urgent and placating, mine wide and manic), leaned over to the pharmacist and whispered ‘F2’.
…and that was juuuust right.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Phew!
This week things started to fall in place.
In a flurry of people desperately trying to work out the gossip without me realising they were gossiping (facebook people? really?) finally a friend just walked up to me, laughing her head off, and wrapped me up in a big hug. She's the same person who rang me up, sotto voice, to tell me baby bottles were 50 per cent off at the pharmacy this week.
My dad, whose been having a quiet breakdown of his own after a friend had a mini-stroke in front of him, he learned that my Aunty has advanced breast cancer & his divorcee daughter announced her unplanned pregnancy all in the same week - bought a second-hand cot this week.
So I'll take it as a good sign that he's getting warmed up to the idea of another baby in his life.
My mum is shopping.
It was she who, when my dad had a little schitz fit, told him to "man up and be happy".
The Boy told me "I'm happy if it's a boy, I don't know how I feel if it's a girl" and The Girl just doesn't want to share her room so we'll be spending the maternity leave months setting up the shed as a teenage retreat.
A (harmless but ditzy) friend was full of congratulations and, when she asked about the dad I simply said he wouldn't be around, she asked me outright "he's not married or anything is he?" which was a relief in that I'm sure that's what people are discussing but wouldn't dare mention in my hearing.
I think my splurt of laughter may have been more convincing than my actual denial.
Turns out we still had a high chair & car seat that I put aside for my brother's breeding years.
I've got a baby bath, a few clothes, started buying nappies, bottles & a nappy bag now.
I've got a lead on a cheap but reliable car and just need a sturdy pram and a rocker/feeder chair.
Fingers crossed my boss will take me on part-time afterwards, but I definitely won't be coming back to work this much. I've already turned down two promotions this quarter because I decided I couldn't move the kids or take on more responsiblity - turns out those were EXACTLY the right decisions to make.
I'm glad I made them before the baby came along too, so I'll always know I chose to stay here no matter what.
The kids are happy - they think it'll mean they'll have more time with me. Ha ha - little do they know ;)
Mr Right & I are still friends. It's kind of sad to take that step backwards again but all the reasons I like him are the reasons he knows better than to take on a pregnant woman with two almost-teen kids.
I guess I'd be suspicious of anyone desperate enough to think my package would be a good deal - but we are you know.
And I'm starting to feel happy about the future again now that the shock is (slowly) wearing off.
It's important that I'm happy before this baby comes along - s/he deserves all the love in the world and I refuse to do it any other way.
In a flurry of people desperately trying to work out the gossip without me realising they were gossiping (facebook people? really?) finally a friend just walked up to me, laughing her head off, and wrapped me up in a big hug. She's the same person who rang me up, sotto voice, to tell me baby bottles were 50 per cent off at the pharmacy this week.
My dad, whose been having a quiet breakdown of his own after a friend had a mini-stroke in front of him, he learned that my Aunty has advanced breast cancer & his divorcee daughter announced her unplanned pregnancy all in the same week - bought a second-hand cot this week.
So I'll take it as a good sign that he's getting warmed up to the idea of another baby in his life.
My mum is shopping.
It was she who, when my dad had a little schitz fit, told him to "man up and be happy".
The Boy told me "I'm happy if it's a boy, I don't know how I feel if it's a girl" and The Girl just doesn't want to share her room so we'll be spending the maternity leave months setting up the shed as a teenage retreat.
A (harmless but ditzy) friend was full of congratulations and, when she asked about the dad I simply said he wouldn't be around, she asked me outright "he's not married or anything is he?" which was a relief in that I'm sure that's what people are discussing but wouldn't dare mention in my hearing.
I think my splurt of laughter may have been more convincing than my actual denial.
Turns out we still had a high chair & car seat that I put aside for my brother's breeding years.
I've got a baby bath, a few clothes, started buying nappies, bottles & a nappy bag now.
I've got a lead on a cheap but reliable car and just need a sturdy pram and a rocker/feeder chair.
Fingers crossed my boss will take me on part-time afterwards, but I definitely won't be coming back to work this much. I've already turned down two promotions this quarter because I decided I couldn't move the kids or take on more responsiblity - turns out those were EXACTLY the right decisions to make.
I'm glad I made them before the baby came along too, so I'll always know I chose to stay here no matter what.
The kids are happy - they think it'll mean they'll have more time with me. Ha ha - little do they know ;)
Mr Right & I are still friends. It's kind of sad to take that step backwards again but all the reasons I like him are the reasons he knows better than to take on a pregnant woman with two almost-teen kids.
I guess I'd be suspicious of anyone desperate enough to think my package would be a good deal - but we are you know.
And I'm starting to feel happy about the future again now that the shock is (slowly) wearing off.
It's important that I'm happy before this baby comes along - s/he deserves all the love in the world and I refuse to do it any other way.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Sad...
BUB is having a breakdown.
So far he's considered abortion, adoption, abandonment, suicide, probably homicide, denial, unemployment & self-exile to a non-extradition country.
I tried, I tried to be patient, I tried to understand that he's as panicked as I am but when he started talking about the deep depression he had been plunged into I kind of lost my last thread of sympathy.
I believe my reply was something along the lines of 'hey, you were holding the gun when the trigger went off and now you've left me to carry the bullet - you're talking about your back pocket while I'm developing a hunchfront'.
I hope he gets it together. I hope it all works out one day and this baby doesn't have to fight to know his/her own family, but right now I'm too busy building arms & legs to deal with a grown man having a sook about maintenance & gossip.
I learnt my lesson the first time - better a happy, stable family with one less person in the mix than a mixed up angry environment where everyone bears the bullshit.
So Bubbles - right now, it's just you, me, your big sister, your big brother, your Nanna & your Grumpy, a loving Aunty & a cheeky Uncle, two evil cats (you can't play with them right way, ok?) and a giant huskie dog that I'm training to pull a sandboard.
When you look at it that way - I guess you're gonna be ok.
That's a lot of people to love, & to love you back.
So far he's considered abortion, adoption, abandonment, suicide, probably homicide, denial, unemployment & self-exile to a non-extradition country.
I tried, I tried to be patient, I tried to understand that he's as panicked as I am but when he started talking about the deep depression he had been plunged into I kind of lost my last thread of sympathy.
I believe my reply was something along the lines of 'hey, you were holding the gun when the trigger went off and now you've left me to carry the bullet - you're talking about your back pocket while I'm developing a hunchfront'.
I hope he gets it together. I hope it all works out one day and this baby doesn't have to fight to know his/her own family, but right now I'm too busy building arms & legs to deal with a grown man having a sook about maintenance & gossip.
I learnt my lesson the first time - better a happy, stable family with one less person in the mix than a mixed up angry environment where everyone bears the bullshit.
So Bubbles - right now, it's just you, me, your big sister, your big brother, your Nanna & your Grumpy, a loving Aunty & a cheeky Uncle, two evil cats (you can't play with them right way, ok?) and a giant huskie dog that I'm training to pull a sandboard.
When you look at it that way - I guess you're gonna be ok.
That's a lot of people to love, & to love you back.
Earth mother
Why am I so tired?
I don't remember being so tired?
According to my (slightly rose-tinted) memories I was an earth goddess last time I was pregnant a whole decade ago.
This time, I just feel like mud.
I don't remember being so tired?
According to my (slightly rose-tinted) memories I was an earth goddess last time I was pregnant a whole decade ago.
This time, I just feel like mud.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)