Unconscious mutterings
You can play too.
I’m also not sleeping at night.
Ok, this is the current food obsession. My garlicky tahini, grilled pitabread and grape tomatoes.
It’s official, Obi-wan is a clothes-horse:
The two eldest boys just spent a few days with my Dad and stepmother. It was weird and I’m not sure how happy I was having them 2 hours drive away. The oldies were exhausted, as were the kids and they all had an absolute blast.
We spent most of today revolting 40+C degree day at my inlaws – soaking in the pool and preoccupying the collective mind from tomorrow’s funeral.
Thank you everyone for your kind words and thoughts. It has been a weird week to say the least and we’re all feeling the looming-ness of tomorrow.
I was going to do a whole post on the whole week, but quite frankly, I’m (still) hot and very tired and well, you all pretty much get how my life runs these days anyway.
Chef’s Nana passed away earlier this evening. It was very sudden and while she was 89, we are all in a state of shock.
We were all at her bedside when she died.
Her name was Agnes.
At what point is it that men decide grey shoes are a good idea?
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Sicilian green olives = h.e.a.v.e.n
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that broad-beamed woman? in the box pleated a-line skirt? Which mirror did she look in and not hear the universe screaming in unison Y.E.S. to “does my butt look big in this?”
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my gum really hurts. That lump, perhaps it’s an absyss? GOD it hurts. Wow, bonjela is great. But man, it still hurts. Maybe there’s a remnant of that bit of toasted pita that jammed down there the other day still in there. And now it’s infected. Great. My gum really hurts.
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why is it the nipples work so well now but not at any other time in my life?
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why does our cat flatly refuse to eat dry food that has been in its bowl for longer than oh, 12 hours??? Can a cat really tell its food is stale?
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sex would be really good right about now. Or now. Or now. Maybe soon? Whenever.
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my hand ache.
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I have a headache. Maybe sex will make it go away.
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My shoulder hurts.
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we really need to get Jasper some sandals.
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I really need some more maternity clothes.
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There’s a person in my world (not a family member) who is nervy and anxious, fearful and scared of the world, always sees the negative and always finds something to worry about rather than celebrate. I can’t imagine living my life like that 24/7, as when I do feel like that, I’m miserable. (As you have all bore witness to.)
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my gum hurts. A lot.
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Can John Howard be that disconnected from the population?
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we need a new car.
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Maybe we can have sex when Chef gets home.
Last Sunday I took the boys to Sydney Aquarium at Darling Harbour. The Doodles gave us a family pass for a year. Pretty cool huh!
Well, it is cool.
Losing Oscar for oh, t.w.e.n.t.y minutes is not.
By the time I found him, the rising fear, the absolute s.h.e.e.r terror that someone had taken my Ogga-boy, that he had fallen into Cockle Bay and drown, that he had just wandered off and now couldn’t find me and had no way of telling anyone who he was, who I was, where we were going and so on and so forth – was too much to bear.
I eventually found him way around another whole part of the precinct.
Basically because after scouring the entire aquarium and loud speaker announcements I went back outside and just started s.c.r.e.a.m.i.n.g. his name. An English tourist said to me, “have you lost a little boy with calipers on?” (he had his super legs on) and then told me he was “way way around” the other side, sitting on a chair crying.
OH.DEAR.GOD.
A staff member at the new Sydney Wildlife World saw me and my distress and just came with me – we found him being looked after by another young English couple.
He just sobbed, I sobbed and sobbed and we hugged each other so hard.
I thought my heart would never recover.
Felix, through all of this, had stood beside the stroller containing Jasper doing exactly as I asked.
I just hugged him, told him how proud I was of him looking after Jasper and doing what I asked. His reply? “Well of course I was going to look after him. I’m his big brother.”
Indeed.
I sat the boys down in a corner in the foyer, plied them with drink bottles and packets of Tiny Teddies to just regroup and give me a change to ensure I wasn’t about to have a heart-attack or spontaneously combust. Or something.
After all that the boys (and indeed I) had a lovely time.
I still can’t relay the story to others without crying.
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Now, for those who read this who have known me for some time, they will read the following, tsk with a laugh, shake their head and mutter, “I can’t believe she wrote about that” but really? They won’t be surprised at all, and in fact will be relieved as it is the true revelation that I.am.back.
For those I have met through here and have expectations about what I write about and what is appropriate to write about, it’s probably a good time to look away.
For you see, the thing I am enjoying most about early second trimester pregnancy? Trumpet bottom. I am cranking out the loudest, the longest and the most pungent of bottom burps possible. It is quite frankly the most enjoyable activity I’ve done for some time. Well, there’s another one that has refound itself but that involves Chef and even I have some notion of drawing a line.
Funny hey, that I won’t go into sex but am happy to discuss my ability to fart long, loud and stinky and to do so with quite adegree of pride and glee.
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