Monday, June 27, 2005

Endings...

My rabbit died this Saturday.

On my wedding day, I picked her up to give her a hug before going to church and her nails left deep red scratches on my neck... And I didn't mind because they were a reminder that she was around.

Some of you will understand why, if your eyelashes are long enough, your nose velvety enough, if you love me enough to jump on my bed every morning and cuddle in my face for an hour, with your nose pressed against mine so we share breaths, and if I love you enough that I can tell your moods by the smell of your skin, if your fur is soft enough and the back of your neck smells sweet enough, if you wriggled under my knee and fell asleep the first day I got you home, and got on the bed to sleep on my pyjamas, in my smell, when I wasn't home, if you follow me around in the house, even when I went to the bathroom, and settle between my feet when I am standing in front of the sink doing the dishes, if you feel secure enough that I would never hurt you, that I am the only person you dare to bite, if you look cute enough when you shake your head and dig in your ears, if you lick my face and my legs and my toes while I'm sitting on the computer, if you always pick a spot to lie down from which you can see where I am, if you miss me enough when I go on a trip that you spend the first couple of nights after my return jumping on and off the bed, to check I'm still there, and then you sulk because I left you, if I've spent long enough looking at you and stroking you that I can tell exactly what spots you have and what your fur looks like on every part of your body, then you can destroy my most loved possessions, make my life 10 times more complicated than it would have been otherwise, and still, just the thought that you'll be home when I get back will make me happy.

The rest of you who don't, are probably lucky.

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Monday, June 20, 2005

A Preggo's Woes are Never Done - Or why My Life Sucks

Is there such a thing as Pregnancy Transition? Please tell me there is... Or otherwise I'm just heading full speed for a major breakdown, and I'll be one of those mums that get drunk trying to drown their sorrows and forget their babies on buses. At least we won't have to spend too much on booze, it'll only take me a glass or two.

All together now...

HOW MUCH DOES MY LIFE SUCK... LET ME COUNT THE WAYS:

1. I'm HOT and miserable.

2. Despite the fact that I'm in ENGLAND, where the temperature compared to Greece is like comparing oh, I don't know, a sunny afternoon and a cruise in the PITS OF HELL.

3. It took me 10 minutes to come up with the simile above. And it's not even a good one. It's so embarassing I'd delete it, but I can't come up with a better one (after another 10 minutes of thought.) I have no brain left.

4. When the cat so much as makes a noise, I want to pick him up by his tail and hurl him out the window.

5. And yet he's being nothing but sweet kitty cuteness personified.

6. My bunny is still cooped up in her fence or her room, because the cat tries to play with her and chases her around, and she doesn't like it.

7. This makes me feel so guilty that I can hardly make myself go in to see her. Despite the fact that it's all my fault she is there, because I was the one who got the cat. Hence...

8. I am a TERRIBLE PERSON and don't deserve to have pets, never mind a baby.

9. I actually mean the above and I felt like crying when I was typing it.

10. I wake up in the morning and have started feeling annoyed at the world in general by the time I've had breakfast.

11. In the past two days, I've taken 3 showers for no other reason appart for the fact that I can cry better in the shower.

12. AND YET I have absolutely no reason to feel like that!

13. AND I don't feel any better afterwards.

14. My toe hurts (isn't my life truly miserable?)

15. I still have to clean the stupid house in Meadowbank. And I'm tired!

16. I am a slob. I will never have a clean house. My child will grow up without knowing what it's like not living in a mess, and her relationships will fail for that reason, and It'll be all my fault.

17. I still have done almost nothing out of all the things I need to do before the baby is born.

18. No pregnant people read this blog, so noone can answer my question about if there is such a thing as pregnancy transition.

19. I have to stop doing this because I'm annoying myself even more.

20. My back hurts.

21. I can't sleep at night.

22. Ok, I'm seriously stopping now.

23. And I STILL DON'T FEEL BETTER.

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Our Cultural Heritage and a Series of Unfortunate Events

Stinky the cat is fascinated by water. In that, he's following the proud tradition of virtually every other pet I've ever had, which is: "Pick the traits that people associate with your kind and avoid them at all costs, replacing them instead with the behaviour of another animal. ANY animal. As long as it's not the animal you appear to be AT FIRST GLANCE. A random object will do too, on occasion." So far I've been the proud mummy of:
Nanoo, the rabbit that thinks she's a Bull Mastiff,
Giovanni, the dog that thought he was a cat,
Ghost, the parakeet that thought he was an office secretary and tried to type on the computer keyboard,
The Count, the canary that thought he was an electrical appliance, and had managed to copy the sound of the telephone and the digital alarm clock so faithfully that guests often exclaimed " can't you hear the phone, aren't you going to pick up?"
And foster mum of a nameless parakeet that thought he was the Olympic Champion of Latvia in Athletics, and had a habit of sliding his head between his legs, twist his entire body while still gripping the cage bars with his feet, come out the other side (where his butt was supposed to be) and then sit there and look at you calmly, like the birdy version of Elastoman.

Now the cat has taken to running out from wherever he's hiding any time anyone turns the tap on, jumping on the sink, and staring at the water in fascination. *Glance* tap. *Glance* drain. *Glance* tap. *Glance* drain. You can practically see the cogs turning. He seems THIS close to figuring it all out. Occasionally, he'll stick his paw in the flow as well. When we take a shower, he sits on the edge of the bathtub and gets sprinkled with water.

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And now, yet another story from Greece that I have to share with my unsuspecting victims... errrr.... dear friends. This is a true story. Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

My friend, let's call her Vita, has a 6-year-old Godson, let's call him Schliemann (Heinrich Schliemann? Get it Vita? *nudge-nudge*) Schliemy has recently decided he wants to be an archaeologist when he grows up, and to that goal, he and his friends spend many happy hours digging in the playground across the street from where they live. One of these digs has yielded a piece of broken tile, which they promptly decided looks old enough to be ancient, and so they proudly showed it to Vita, and asked for her expert opinion. Vita thought it would be fun to play along, and so she promised that she'd take the tile to University and show it to her professors. Then, she and another friend typed a letter that was supposedly from the University, thanking him for bringing the matter to their attention. The playground, the letter informed him, had been built on the ruins of an ancient temple to Artemis, Greek Goddess of the Hunt, but even though the University was aware of the temple's existance, excavations were regretably not possible at present, but who knows what the future might bring? However, he had done the right thing by showing them the tile, now their technicians could restore it, good lad, etc etc.

To clarify: This letter was typed on plain white paper, not official University stationary. Then, they put it in a plain white envelope and typed his name and address on it. For that extra touch of realism, they, *get this*, printed a second sheet of paper, headed TILE DATING RESULTS, and stuck a couple of pie-charts on it. Sample Microsoft Word pie-charts. The kind that is divided in pie-slices, with percentages written next to them. They didn't bother to edit it at all, or add, I don't know, explanations of WHAT the pink slice was 25% OF. They figured this should be enough for a 6 year old, right? To be on the safe side, Vita informed Schliemy's mum that they were playing along with him and then handed him the Reply from the University.

What she hadn't predicted was that Schliemy would be so excited by this reply, he'd take it to school and show it to his Teacher. School Teacher. The kind that has a University Degree and (usually) a functioning brain. The Teacher in question read the Reply and was absolutely amazed. Why, you could have knocked her down with a feather! One of her little pupils making such a big discovery! She promptly read the letter to the rest of the classroom, then took it to the next classroom and read it to them too, assigned them an essay on the subject as homework, and took to calling Schliemy "Our Little Archaeologist" for the next couple of days. After that, thankfully, she spoke to Schliemy's mum, and was informed that the whole thing was a joke the boy's Godmother played on him. ("But I thought... But the letter seemed so OFFICIAL!") At least she didn't have the time to go to the newspapers, or we'd be in REAL trouble.

Here are some more pictures of the new house... Still working on it!

Our Bedroom:

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Matilda's Room-To-Be (when she's older):

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Our View:

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Friday, June 10, 2005

I have a dream...

Hello everyone,
Well, the Move is finally completed, and we have a phoneline in place. We weren't supposed to have it until the 13th of June, but the nice BT technician actually called and asked us if we had time for him to come earlier (imagine THAT!) This happened over a week ago, but I've been too busy/tired/sleep deprived to blog (or form coherent thoughts.) Sorry! However, you won't be left hanging. Here's a sneak preview of our lounge:

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I went to my first pre-natal class at the hospital yesterday... I was expecting I'd know most of the stuff they mention anyway, what with the hypnobirthing classes and all the compulsive reading I've been doing, but I thought it'd be a nice way to meet people in the area. There were several first time parents-to-be, and epidurals featured in the conversation quite a lot.


So I came home and I was talking with Peter about it, and then after we went to bed, I had the most amazing dream:

I had gone into labor, and I was in the hospital (because I wasn’t full term yet.) So I was in this room with other women in labor, and each of us was doing her own thing. I was basically naked and on all fours, and I wasn’t feeling any contractions at all, but I was just visualizing my uterus muscles working the right way, and opening up etc… Peter then checked me and proclaimed I was 4 cm dilated. So I got really excited about progressing so nicely. I continued doing the same thing, and I sort of zoned out for a while, and when I became aware of my surroundings again, all the other women were gone, and Peter was gone too. So I got up and walked around a bit, and found this room where there was the Midwife teaching our class, with several labouring women on beds. She looked at me and said really sarcastically,
“Oh, what are you doing here, aren’t you doing your little hypnosis?”
I said “I am, and it’s going fine, but I’m not having any contractions, but I’m progressing nicely.”
“Well, if you’re not feeling contractions, you’re not getting anywhere.”
“Yes I am, do you want to bet? You check me, and if I’m not at least 5 cm dilated, I’ll do whatever you want, you just tell me.”
So she said,
“If you lose, I just want your name, to add to my list of women that thought they knew what they were doing, but didn’t. I have 14 names already.”
“Ok, but if I win, I want you to tell all of these women that they don’t have to feel pain to have their baby.”

So she took an assistant midwife with her, and we went to the next room… She stood there, and the assistant sort of peered between my legs, and asked her,
“If a woman came to the maternity ward and said she wanted you to admit her, because she thought she was having a baby, but she isn’t feeling any contractions yet, what would you do?”
“I wouldn’t do anything, I’d just send her home, because she couldn’t possibly be in established labour.”
“Well, then, you’d be wasting precious time,”
and she moved out of the way, and my baby’s head was out!
And that was about it, basically, I had my baby and went home… Baby was a boy in the dream, incidentally.

It was so strange; I don’t often have dreams that are THAT clear and coherent. It took me a while to realise it wasn’t true when I woke up. I feel kinda bad for casting the poor Midwife as the Villain in my dream, she certainly was nice and she said a lot of valuable things too –certainly wasn’t anything like in my dream. But I felt SOOOO smug when I woke up, and I have to say it’s nice to know my subconscious and I are on the same page about this!

I have to apologise for this post, I know that all of this is of no interest whatsoever to anyone who isn't pregnant (hello everyone!) but this dream made my day, and I needed to record it. Here, I'll make it up to you. Have a new Belly Picture (33 weeks today!)

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And since this post has been written with the sole purpose of boring you to sleep (hypno-blogging, tee-hee-hee!) here's a funny story. I found this link at Blue's Blog. Thanks Blue!