Birthdays stink

It's my birthday today.

There's nothing like a birthday to remind you of the things that aren't right in your life. At the moment I'm spending five days a week away from my kids in a job I really don't like, and getting no where financially because the shift composition is impractical. I feel like working 'full time' (days, not hours) is hindering my ability to forge any kind of social life for me or the kids, and so stopping me from feeling at home. I haven't made any friends, except for some cool people at work. So today is my birthday and I feel so lonely and caged in. No cash, no mates, no play dates.

I know I'm a nice guy. I treat people with respect and I always endeavor to put out positive energy. But things like spending your birthday alone with no plans, no phone calls, no cards... well they make you feel pretty shitty. I must be going wrong somewhere. Am I a shitty person? I'm not sure.


Bah humbug.

The end of the road

Things have changed drastically since my last post.

We've moved! Packed up and left Brisbane for a sea change. The last few months have been tricky with the man of the house living in a room above a pub in Nambour. There was a lot to do before we could follow, and nearly six months later we're finally a family unit again. We've rented out our home and moved into a little box in suburbia. We were lucky enough to be put up in a hotel across from the beach in Maroochydore for two weeks- adding a slice of awesome on the sandwich that is my life.

Anyway, all of this change has meant my sweet little baby hasn't had a chance to settle into a decent routine at all, and sleep is still a mysterious concept to him. Today I started a new job, and being so totally wrecked All the time I've decided to just give him formula. Today's the beginning of the end of my last ever drive down Breast Feeding Road. I'm feeling guilty and stressed about the issue, which was exacerbated when Bodhi came home from daycare and vommed across the dining room. I'm not sure if I'm doing the right thing.

Speaking of wrong things; I went a tiny bit too fast in my car this evening. I was rushing to make daycare pick up before closing time and, well, *sirens* *sobs*.

That's what's happening here. And how are you?

Axel

It's been a long time since I wrote this post to my main man Axel. A lot has happened since then; he has turned four and become a big brother to Bodhi. He has gotten smarter and sharper and his wit astounds me daily. So here are a few things to get down in writing for him.

• You are already very much a pain in Bodhi's butt. You pick on him even though he's 6 months old and defenseless! I expected nothing less, but every now and then I'll catch a peak of you doing something incredibly loving towards him when you think no one's watching and my heart explodes.
• Recently you've started having nightmares, as the child health nurse warned many 4 year olds do. As a result I've had to make your dad stop letting you watch inappropriate movies. Turns out that's something the two of you do whenever I'm not around. Goodfellas and Scarface are just not age appropriate okay!? The other day he showed you a youtube clip of an elevator prank where they filmed people being frightened by a ghostly girl and a corpse falling out of a coffin. You haven't gotten over it yet, I hope you do soon.
• On the upside you are becoming quite the movies and music buff. I'm constantly trying to impart a little bit of decent media onto you in the hopes you'll have more of my tastes and less of your daggy father's. You can still belt out an impressive rendition of Bow River, thanks to dad. 
• It is impossible to get you to clean your room, but I have put my hopes in a new roster system. Do a chore or good deed and you get a star. 10 stars equal a new car. We'll see...
• You are a beautiful big boy, and despite giving me hell 95% of the time, you are sweeter than honey. I love you to bits.
• I still have to wipe your bum. It's for the best really.

I freaking love daycare days

Today I have indulged in one of my guiltiest of pleasures. No, it's not half a bottle of red (ask me later on this evening though) or even a sneaky serve of KFC chips with extra seasoning...

I sent my 4 year old off to daycare for no reason at all except to give myself a break. Because I'm working part time at the moment, day to day life has become a juggling act on a tight rope with a ball balancing on my head. My kids go to daycare when I work and spend the days tearing the house apart when I'm at home, so even though he didn't really want to go and I didn't have any legitimate reasons to send him, he is the care of Miss Kim today.

So what should I do?! I could nap while the baby naps, or get the laundry done, or prep a nice dinner, or watch a movie... eeeeek quick enjoy the day!

Bodhi's Birth Story - long stuff

September last year I was blessed with this guy.

 

He has kept me solidly busy. He's pretty spesh. Bodhi was the healing birth experience I didn't know I needed. The pregnancy was long and uncomfortable, rendering me physically pretty useless by the end thanks to Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction. I was friggin huge, man! This is a 37 week bump shot. I have later ones that are significantly bigger, but they are far too gruesome and I am far too vain.

 

By 38 weeks I began to panic, not about his size but about the circumstances of Axel's birth that led to emergency resuscitation and a stay in neonatal intensive care. I laboured for over 24 hours with Axel and didn't get to have that special 'slimy baby on your chest' moment that looked so awesome in the youtube videos I'd become addicted to. In fact the whole thing was quite terrifying, and the interventions were so preventable had I known anything at all about giving birth. This time I was armed to the teeth with knowledge, and the only thing that would threaten my desired experience would be if Bodhi chose to poo in my tummy like his big brother.

In short, I was panicking about over-cooking the baby.

I voiced my concerns with my lovely midwife Alexis, and she agreed to start giving me sweeps when ever I wanted. We started at 38+5 days. Sweeps, if you don't know, suck. They are the uncomfortable experience of having a grown adult put their hand up your jay-jay to reach your cervix. I had three.

I woke up to contractions at 2am on Tuesday September 4. Because I was induced with my first baby I never got to experience that build up of pre-labour, so I was pretty nuts with excitement. I laid awake playing with a contraction timer ap literally all morning. Stupid move considering what was ahead. The contractions fizzled out when I got up for the day at 6am and I was slightly disappointed. Okay I was wildly pissed off. 

That night they reappeared and knowing not to get ahead of myself I tried to sleep. Although they were enough to keep me awake, Wednesday morning they seemed to have petered out again so I got up to face another day of being cranky and fat. I soon realized if I kept physically moving they would build up to really decent active contractions. If I sat down at all they would stretch out much longer, but would still be really powerful suggesting active labour might establish. I got a bit crazy here, marching up and down our steep driveway for hours. I knew I needed to preserve energy but I was too excited to be on the verge of meeting my son!

By 6pm I called Rick and demanded he come home and support me. Axel stayed hiding in the shadows from this point on. All I could do to manage the pain was to walk, rock, sway, dance or stomp. If I sat down at any point the contractions would slow, but become much more intense. It felt like sitting caused two or three contractions to combine into a really arse-kicking big contraction. The same thing happened in the bath, meaning no relief there either. 

By about 10:30 I was beginning to fear I couldn't cope. I called my midwife and relayed my fears that I'd come in to get examined and she'd tell me I had barely progressed and I'd be so disheartened I'd lose control and that would be the end of naturally labouring. I made the decision to come in anyway. 

Driving into the hospital was excruciating, sitting back was possibly the closest I'll ever know to absolute torture. Even while it was happening though, I couldn't help but smile at the whole thing. It was happening, and it was happening naturally! Rick was driving like a bat out of hell and we were bickering over him taking the LONG route to his brother's to drop off Axel. When we got to his brother's everyone there was excited and wanted to talk to me about it.. uh no, let's go!

When we got to the hospital my midwife hadn't arrived yet, so we were shown to the suite and I was told to lie down for an examination while Rick went to park the car. I told this unknown woman to bugger off - I had a plan thank you and she was not part of it and I would not be opening my legs to her so off you go. She scurried out of there and I was alone for a little while. It was a really nice moment of suspension. Some time after Rick came back and Alexis arrived with a student midwife who's name I forget. I assumed Alexis would want to examine me but she didn't bring it up. I don't know if it was because I asked for minimal interference on my birth plan or because of what I told her on the phone, but it was awesome not to be examined at all. I assumed I wouldn't have a choice.

I was left to continue labouring using my own skill set- stomping and yelling. At some point I asked to try the gas only to immediately get nauseous and decide it was terrible. Alexis sat on a chair and occasionally called out a suggestion to get in the tub or something encouraging. The student midwife used a doppler to check the baby's heart beat intermittently, but that was the only physical contact they had with me. It was just what I needed. At around midnight I started to get tired and was ordered into the tub to rest. It meant the same intensely strong spaced out contractions, but I managed to get a few minutes sleep in between. After some unknown time I got out of the tub and literally chucked a tantrum - I got up, yelled that I didn't want to do this any more and ran from one side of the (huge) birth suite to the other! It must have looked hilarious. Rick and the student midwife were shocked but Alexis just smiled and told me to sit on the toilet. Sure enough I did and my waters exploded - transition!

Not long after that I had the purple line on my backside to indicate I was fully dilated, and jumped in the shower to birth this guy. Again I was left alone with a mirror (at my request, gross but encouraging) and I managed to do the job in 15 minutes. Rick was in a state of shock and awe and only caught the very end of the action with his camera. The whole thing was awesome.

 

 

Simply awesome. 

Bodhi Rick, born 1:45am September 6

9lb 2oz of cute

 

 

My Space

Have you ever tried to trace your internet footprint?

I'm 25, so I'm right up in that Gen Y biz. I started my first blog in year 12, and while I have no idea how to find it, it did have a really great header that I found on google images and doctored to say 'Fat Amy'. That blog got me into a bit of trouble when a teacher I had criticized found it and used it against me.

I have started and lost several more blogs over the last eight years. I rode the myspace wave baby, and it was pretty great. Tonight I finally figured out my myspace login and read over posts from nineteen-to-twenty-year-old me. Those were pretty tumultuous times in my life. I fell out of love with my highschool sweetheart, finished uni, met my now-husband and fell pregnant by complete surprise with my eldest son. The world looked so different to me then, and it is equal parts painful and enthralling to read what I was thinking.

So on that note I am kick-starting this stale old thing once again. Every time I log in I sing out a big woohoo, I'm back, I missed you! then I don't log back in for months. Whatever, I don't care, this is my space mate. But I do know that I will appreciate it if I figure out my password in a few years time and get to see what I was thinking when my second born was a few months old.

I'll fill you in on him tomorrow, bloggy. MWAH

Kabloom!

Hello internet! I have been AWOL lately thanks to some idiot driving a stolen car into a power pole in my street causing a massive power surge sent to destroy my home appliances. Seriously, crazy! I woke up at 2am a fortnight ago to the fan spinning wildly, lights popping, power points sizzling.. scary stuff. It meant to end to several important members of my family; computer *sob*, tv *sniff*, surround sound etc. It also burned out the cable internet.

She's back though.

I have all this stuff to share, but my mind is a mess. I have been working my metaphorical arse off this week, and will be up in a few hours to open the shop tomorrow. So I'll catch up on my precious internet after that.

Peace out x

It's okay

Parenthood is one hard motherfucker.


I am a mean mother!


Some days I feel like a stranger standing outside myself watching my parenting and I am shocked at what I see. Why do I yell so much? Is the kid really being that unruly or is he just being three? I'm sure pregnancy hormones are part of the problem at the moment, along with being off certain medications (albeit natural) to help with stress. I don't know what's going on with the man of the house but he seems to pretty much clock out as soon as he gets home from work and hit the booze lately, leaving me to deal with the kid.


Yesterday was a difficult one for me, and by dinner time I just wanted to cry. So I served up the food, put one of my favourite music dvds on loud and jumped in the shower to destress. Hubby being the pain in the arse that he is started skipping through songs to find one he felt like listening to, then almost like magic he landed on my favourite of the whole lot, probably of any dvd ever invented. It's the magic of Eddie Vedder picking up a note passed through the crowd at the end of Daughter and going with it. It is exactly what I needed to hear last night while the water was cleansing me of my shitty mother-ness.

I can't figure out how to embed it at the start of the song I'm referring to, so enjoy some Daughter first or skip to 4:00 

It's been a loooong day

This song has come to mind more than a few times today. I don't know what it was about today, but it really kicked my arse. Work wasn't particularly busy, I didn't have a particularly bad sleep last night (I am pregnant, so I did put a load of washing on at 2am...) but I have been so freaking pooped today.

Today marks 16 weeks and according the the baby book, there is an avocado-sized kid in my belly. Maybe that explains the fatigue... and the lack of words to complete this post.

Ni night!

Is it depressing in here, or is it just me?

I'm having a bad day. Like, scream at the kid until I burst into tears bad. He is annoying the absolute shit out of me even now, singing the ABCs on the lounge chair while eating a vegemite scroll. Stupid song, stupid messy scroll. Just yesterday I sat in a doctor's office discussing how awesome I am at handling my depression and how I've got this and I don't want any assistance. It's like yesterday I had rose coloured glasses on, and this morning I woke up and some arse hole has hidden them. Yesterday, and for many months before, I have been TOTALLY FINE.

I've been waiting for this day, I knew it was on the way. I wasn't naive enough to think I was just suddenly cured. It's so frustrating to be reminded that I don't have it all under control, and right now is possibly the worst time to try and lean on my husband for support. He is already leaning on me and I've started to gurgle a bit under the water. I just want to scream.

Right now my house is a bomb site. There is a big pot of ravioli in the electric frypan from last night- Rick was already drunk as a skunk when I got home and I was too mad to eat it or put it away. Axel didn't even sleep on sheets last night because the stupid dog pulled them off the line and pissed on them while I was at work. There are approximately 7000 hot wheels cars strewn across the lounge room floor and I'm 90% sure I saw something move on the dining room table.

Fuck today, I'm going back to bed.

Picture perfect

I'm not going to lie, my life is as boring if not more so than my blog. Which means the photos in my phone, well, boring. But here are a few that I carefully selected to share on facebook to make it look like I do interesting things. I'm sharing them here for Eden's Fresh Horses.

I'm a lucky wife, even if my husband doesn't know
how to put dirty undies in the laundry basket

Who doesn't snap photos of tiny geckos
while on the can?

Cat latte, obviously

Unmade bed and 14 week bump/food baby

A spidey that stayed on my windscreen
for a 20km trip to work on the freeway 

Kid and me getting ant bites

Undies boxing in the hall. I'd be in big
trubz if he ever sees this on the internets

Poison 

At a birthday party - before he gets a toy

and after. That's the birthday boy on the
left, obviously his mother is a better teacher
of humility than me

Confessions of a Housewife

I really hate laundry. Like, with a seething, undying passion. The backdoor JERK neighbour has this overgrown flame tree that hangs over my clothesline encouraging all kinds of creepy crawlies to live in my peg basket. I grew up with a hippy father who didn't like us using electricity unnecessarily so I know that the dryer is bad.. but I totally wait for days like today to actually do the laundry. It's raining, oh well, I'll have to use the dryer!

I have never cleaned my bin. Hubby had a little fit a few weeks ago when we awoke to maggots, yes maggots, on the kitchen floor. It was putrid and terrifying, but I still haven't cleaned the bin. What's the point? I'm only going to put more rubbish in it.

Whenever my mother comes to visit I turn into a mad scrubbing machine trying to make the house presentable. That is the only time my bathroom ever meets any kind of mould remover or glass cleaner. This is also the only time I'll dust. I like that the parentals don't visit too often because I wouldn't want hubby to get used to a bathroom that shiny.

Having confessed to these little feral undertones, my house is actually really tidy. I get really stressed out when there is shit everywhere. The beds are always made and ready for a certain three year old to jump on and mangle. The loo gets cleaned freakishly regularly because of that same three year old who is still learning to aim... can't stand the smell of wees on the floor! The kitchen especially is always clean. Well, except for nights when I'm tired and hubby has cooked (read- turned the kitchen into a bomb site). Those nights I rinse the crap and leave it for future Amy to sort out. Future Amy is always pissed in the morning.

I am a good cook. I chuck onions and garlic into a jar of anything and vòila! If I'm having a lazy night I just text Rick and tell him I'm cooking something new and innovative and he'll say he's eaten at work already. Then Axel and I eat toast.

Best. Housewife. Ever!

Blogging fun!

My pal Robyn from Slightly More Depth Than a Teaspoon tagged me in a blogging game. This makes my Sunday morning mucho exciting! So far all I've done is pull a rotten banana out of the bird's cage and eat two bowls of cereal.


Describe yourself in seven words 
Busy, tired, tolerant, passionate, impatient, hard working


What keeps you up at night?
Well, last night it was my newly divorced neighbour entertaining a house full of gentlemen. The night before it was the service station across the road getting ram-raided by some teenagers in a stolen van. I kid you not, living on a main road has its noisy burdens. But in all seriousness, the usual anxieties that come with motherhood have meant I haven't been a deep sleeper since September 3, 2008. That's the day a slimy little pink guy came into my life and required me to always have one ear open. He fell out of bed the other night and I was in there beside him before he even registered what happened. He is currently awaiting an operation to remove his tonsils and over-sized adnoids, so I'm not afraid to say I am that mum that goes in and puts my hand in front of his nose to make sure he's breathing oh, two times a night at least.


Who would you like to be?
Well, I realise there isn't a lot of use wishing I was the rockstar alter ego of my teens, but I still let myself dream. In all seriousness though, I just want to be better at being me. And I'm really trying. Pregnancy hormones are kicking my ass a bit at the moment, but I do think I'm on the road to being a more fulfilled, calmer, happier person. Right now my kid keeps throwing cushions at me and I'm not even hardly yelling at him almost.


What are you wearing right now?
An old floral dress my mum picked up from St. Vinnie's for me. It's my go-to outfit for the house as I don't need to wear a bra, but if the neighbour calls me over to the fence (which he will almost certainly do when I go outside to put clothes on the line) he can't see my nips. And I have made an effort to get out of the pjs by 9am... which lets face it, I should be celebrated for.


What scares you?
Getting to the end of my life and realising I didn't fulfill my dreams. It goes hand in hand with not knowing what my dreams are and wondering if I'm doing it all wrong. Also, my kids turning out to be total jerks when they grow up. Or bankers. Or Australian National Party pollies.


What are the best and worst things about blogging?
The best is it makes me feel part of something, especially in this new era of bloggers networking with memes and games like this. It gives me a reason to babble on in the hopes I can connect with someone.
The worst is feeling on the outside sometimes, like the cool kids all belong to a click and I don't have a cool enough lunch box to sit with them.


What is the last website you visited?
My Sizzling September Mummy's facebook group. Today there is a candid discussion on how often you give it up to your partner. It's full of women who are due the same month as me and I'm finding it to be an awesome aspect of social media. Last pregnancy I was all alone, this time I have the world right there. Awesome. 


What is one thing you would like to change about yourself?
Physically, there are loads of things, but I'll wait til September before I'll start picking myself to pieces. There are things I hope to change about my life this year, specifically getting back into uni to finish off my diploma of education. But I am having a hard time imagining me studying full time with a newborn baby.
 *dance break*



Slankets - yes or no?
Anything that frees your hands up for a glass of wine and a bowl of cheezels while still keeping you snug? Come on, get with the times, man!


Tell us something about the person who tagged you
Robyn and I were childhood friends and now we are bloggy friends. She has a beautiful family and a beautiful soul. 


Now the tricky part: tag five bloggers so they can share ten things about themselves. 
I am pretty new to the blogesphere so I don't have a network of people to tag, so if you're reading this, I tag you! Leave me a comment so I can go and read ten things about you, and then we can be buddies, ok!?

Much muchness

Life is ticking by here in Amy Springs. It's hot and boring and I always have something to complain about. Today we are chilling and doing laundry and waiting for something to happen. Axel is counting down until tonight when Racing Stripes is on tv. Sometimes I wish I was a kid again, simpler times.

I remember over four years ago I was in my final year at uni and spending 50% of my time working my arse off waiting tables and tending a bar, 2% of my time putting in a little effort at uni and the other 48% of the time getting shit-faced. Stupid little things seemed so important and life was so hard man. It was also mind-numbing and I remember laying in bed at The Acid House (the share house of your dreams) wishing something, anything would happen. I didn't expect that something to come in the form of a surprise fetus, but them's the cards you's dealt!

I try to remember this when I have days like today. The grass is always greener huh. My time now is split 50% working my arse off waiting on tables, 50% being housekeeper/wife/mother/zookeeper/secretary/banker/shopper/stylist-to-the-stars... Soon I can chuck responsible for a brand new life into the mix. And then I will lay in bed at night wondering if he's breathing and when he's going to need another feed and if my milk is substantial enough and why can't I sleep and god I wish I could sleep and I hope Axel has mercy and leaves me alone in the morning when he gets up ridiculously early to watch cartoons.

For today I will take boring and laundry and I might even wash the car and bathe the stinky dogs.

Who is Joseph Kony?

I saw this video someone shared on facebook this morning. My initial reaction was '30 minutes? This better be funny'. It isn't funny at all, but it is important and it is taking social media by storm.

Watch the video. Share the video. Sign the petition. It's a good cause! Joseph Kony is the number 1 most wanted man for war crimes against society, that's nutburgers!

I am in awe of how quickly this has spread. I'm sure people have tried similar tactics before without this kind of speedy success; albeit usually for marketing purposes for stupid things we will buy that we don't need. This morning I had never heard of Joseph Kony, and I am a frequent tumblr, twitter and facebook user. Tonight it is everywhere like wild fire. It's the amazing power of social media.

Do Angels Exist?

Source:  http://goth-and-magic-world.blogspot.com.au/   

I have always been a morbid kind of person. I grew up believing in ghosts and angels and demons, so definitely that I would lie awake at night with the covers over my head terrified to look out into the darkness. In our house in the country you had to pass a screen door to get to the bathroom. Late night pee breaks would fill me with dread. I would close my eyes and run past that door for fear of the Mothman or some freaky dark angel standing under the clothesline.

 My mother has a strong connection to the afterlife. Or fascination with it. I don't know, but don't ask her if you get spooked easily. The day I told her I don't have a guardian angel she kind of shot me this 'oh god, she knows'  face. She denies any recollection of this at all now. Mum on the other hand has so many angels. She sees them all the time in various things, in butterflies in particular. I think it's a bit cliché how many people see their butterfly angels, but it must be an easy way for angels to communicate with their peeps.

Anyway, for years I believed I don't have an angel. I asked and looked and begged and meditated on it. It's a similar feeling of rejection that I got when I'd ask and beg for Jesus to be my pal and walk with me the way he walks with mormons and stuff. It didn't seem fair to me and I convinced myself that it must be my soul; maybe I've done bad things in a previous life?

The angel above my son's bed

These days I am pretty sure that someone is looking out for me in some capacity. This year has been a big overhaul of beliefs and spirituality for me, and it's only March. I'm not in a rush to figure out the meaning of life, but I know what I feel and I feel that an angel might have found me. I really think spirituality and psyche go hand in hand; and unhealthy psyche leads to an unhealthy spirituality and vice versa. Maybe that's why I have had this awakening of ease - I'm getting better.



Eden from Edenland take photos of the feathers her angels leave behind. What do you believe?

Challenge Accepted!

Ok, so I'm really enjoying linking up each week for the Edenland memes. Now I've gotten all cocky and decided I can manage this mammoth challenge that has been taking place each month. It's as simple as it looks- post a photo every day from the prompts. I'm going to TRY and take part on twitter and probably only but a few of the good ones on this blog. I don't know.. will it be boring? Will I rise to the challenge or totally forget by day three? Stay tuned! 

Theeey're heerre

Well, not yet. But they will be this time tomorrow. The parentals are visiting! That sentence is equal parts exciting and terrifying for the whole family. They are only here for three days but mum has broken her knee and unable to move around, so it should be interesting.

My parents live far, far away (six hours west 'in the sticks') and always come bearing gifts of goods mum has found at various op shops and random bits of shit my dad has found and sanded back. Oh, and booze. This time around of course I'm up the duff so unable to enjoy a tipple, but watching them will be entertaining enough. And then of course we'll have some form of argument and dad and I will stomp off angrily in opposite directions, then ignore each other til Sunday when they drive home.

Love parents visiting!

I don't like Mondays (but Sundays are alright)

Our present routine means that my hubster and I don't get a day off together. Most Sundays when he can swing it though, Rick comes home after lunch so we can do something cool together. It both sucks and rocks at the same time; while the time together is sparse it means we feel inspired to spend it actually doing something.

Yesterday we did stuff! Stuff included: 

-- Gallery of Modern Art (GoMA)

'We Miss You Wonderland' children's exhibition- and a child who
didn't want to be photographed with mum

Yayoi Kusama 'Look Now, See Forever' exhibition  

-- A stroll along the murky brown waters of the Brisbane River - honestly I don't know why we don't appreciate our city more. 

-- An expensive lunch at South Bank that was so putrid I'm surprised we're still here. Notable mention the the Ibis who attacked Axel and made off with his lunch (probably saving his life). Seriously though, never eat at Cosmos at South Bank, we are considering calling the health department. 

-- Followed by THE BEST DINNER EVER at our new favourite Thai restaurant in Sunnybank. We have been frequenting this restaurant since discovering it late last year and it just keeps getting better. The service is bad enough that you have to laugh, but the food is good enough that you don't care. 

The weekend is of course over, but we couldn't resist carrying our lazy holiday mood over to tonight when we took Axel out to Montezuma's. Good chow and great sangria at our local (which conveniently, I waitressed at during uni so I know the good hook ups!) which made for a great night. Axel and Rick are both comatose on my bed watching a bad movie now and I plan on having a lie down on Axel's bed while my food baby and my actual baby battle for space in my belly. 

Really, it's only Monday?

Confessions of a Newlywed

I really hate my husband's hair. I fully expected him to give up his 'grow it like Eddie Vedder' quest before the wedding day and thought he was joking when he showed me a hat he bought to wear. 

I spend a few nights a week in the spare bed because I cannot stand snoring. I don't know what my fate will be when the bed goes to make room for the baby's nursery. 

I secretly think I make better stirfrys than my executive chef husband.

I personally don't think marriage is a necessary institution, and I look at girls my age and younger who get excited over weddings as morons. I'm not a hypocrite; I just like to make my husband happy. I'm confident that we will go the distance, so in a way getting hitched was like making a wager on it.

I don't like some of my in laws. SHOCK! My husband doesn't like some of mine but he is much more vocal about it. 

Sometimes I sneakily throw dumb shit of my husband's in the wheelie bin on rubbish day. He hasn't noticed anything yet. I do the same with his 'favourite' undies when they get holey. What is with men and attachment to jocks? 

We have game nights where we play chess, monopoly, uno etc. and I cheat mercilessly. I don't usually win though, which is why I think it's okay.

Do you have any confessions?