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Showing posts from 2011

Christmassy tidings.

Another year, another sisterly visit. *grin* Sister Three declared last year that any Christmas we're not in Texas, she'll come here. She's making good on her word. All I can say is "thank goodness". *lol* I was beginning to have a hard time with Madam, trying to get ready to have a houseful of people on Christmas morning with one arm permanently occupied was wearing on my nerves a bit. After all, I have to start putting all those pins on Pinterest to good use... ; ) Three's arrival was very timely for this purpose. I have now made cinnamon roll pancakes and two ingredient pumpkin cake, I've made/decorated/filled eight Christmas stockings (in fact, several are decorated with homemade pom poms I pinned months ago) and hung them on a board I aged with steel wool and vinegar, and even made cheese toast in the toaster turned on its side. We also put up the Christmas tree, decorated with years of accrued randomness. It's now playing host to a numbe

Delayed post from 17th November.

"Here I sit, on the couch downstairs with Madam asleep next to me. Here I've been since around quarter past five this morning, after half an hour of attempting to make her realise that it wasn't quite time to be awake just yet. Of course, ten minutes after our relocation, she relinquished her claim on consciousness and left me to gaze upon her peaceful visage while I blog. This week has been fun so far. I took Herself to the tattoo parlour on Monday. *grin* We're good friends with the guy who runs the place (and that was before I had most of my body covered in pretty pictures) so I took Madam for her first hangout session." That's as far as I got. Things got a little nuts. After the tattoo parlour on Monday, we also took our first tube journey into town to see Himself at his various offices (or rather to showcase Madam to his coworkers) on the Wednesday. She was ridiculously well received and we went home satisfied that she is, in fact, the most beauti

Firsts.

I had all these ideas of blogging every couple of days to keep everyone updated with Madam's progress. Turns out having a newborn isn't all sitting around with your hair perfectly coiffed, holding a sleeping angel. *grin* That said, I've never been happier. This has been a week of firsts, to be documented below. 1. Madam had her first shower with yours truly on Friday, swiftly followed by her second shower with her daddy on Sunday. That should give you some idea of how successful the first was. I've never seen a child so content in my life. *lol* 2. Madam had her first cloth nappy experience, as proven below. Cutest bum ever. 3. We were invited to a bonfire night fireworks party by our next door neighbours. Mimi was more than happy to attend, fireworks and chili dogs are two of her favourite things so we all popped over with Madam, but when the proper fireworks started Mimi went back to our house with her to watch from the upstairs window in warmth and comfort

Adjustments all around.

So, we had our first full-body poo this morning. *grin* I ate something in the last day or two (I'm suspecting onion in the pasta sauce) that really screwed with Madam's insides. She's been fussy and clingy for the last 24 hours or so, which saw us downstairs on the couch at 2am this morning so as to allow Himself some sleep. We migrated back upstairs when he left for work around 6am, and only regained consciousness when Herself began to stir around eight. I rolled over to give her a cuddle, only to find that in her nocturnal travels she'd managed to cover her entire front side in poo. We're talking, soaked through two layers of clothing and into the sheet. *lol* This of course led to stripping the baby and the bed, putting the baby in the sink for a bath and the sheets in the wash along with her clothes and a fair amount of stain remover. She was massively unimpressed with the bath, even though I thoughtfully lined it with a towel so her little cheeks wouldn

Welcome, tiny overlord.

Madam has landed. You'll forgive my lack of posts in the last week, we've been a little preoccupied around Chez Gabs. Things didn't go quite as planned. We had hoped for a tranquil water birth, no pain relief except the soothing warmth of the pool... that was before my waters broke and 24 hours passed without major happening. After 24 hours, for those of you not in the know, the risk of infection precludes water birth and I wasn't allowed in. Fair enough, we're flexible, so we adjusted and moved on mentally to a natural non-pool birth, with the addition of a cannula in the back of my left hand to push IV antibiotics (which took three tries and eventually a doctor to insert, but we won't go into detail on that one). That was, of course, until they decided things weren't moving as quickly as they would like, and took advantage of said cannula to drip syntocin into my unsuspecting body. Apparently I'm ridiculously sensitive to syntocin, because not o

Rumblings and ramblings.

This morning at twenty past three, Himself and I were awoken by a gurgling "hurk, hurk" noise from the foot of the bed. His cat had chosen that opportune moment to sick up in the floor in front of my chest of drawers. Both of us rocketed up out of bed, more out of sheer reflex than a belief that swift movement would change the situation in any way, shape or form. Himself cleaned up the mess (because he loves me, you see), I went to the toilet... again... and we went back to bed. Twenty minutes later, I was suddenly awake, and not quite sure why. Something was weird, and JB was kicking up a storm (like, making a break for it kind of kicking). I stayed there, taking silent and still stock of my surroundings, and then it hit me. I leapt up out of bed as my waters broke, miraculously leaving the bed dry, and simultaneously scaring seven hells out of Himself. I blurted out "my waters have broken", he tossed me a towel, and I got straight on the phone as previously

Call me bass-ackwards.

It's funny. I've always been backwards. Awkward. Abnormal. Whatever you want to call it. I didn't expect that to extend to pregnancy. All my friends/colleagues/family members have said pretty much the same thing about when they were pregnant. The first few months (at least) were normally ridden with nausea, then things evened out and became... well, pleasant... until the last few weeks. In the last few weeks, the waiting game played havoc with their nerves/patience/fortitude to the point that misery ensued. The swollen hands and ankles, the endless bathroom trips, the constant indigestion, but mostly the incessant wondering as to WHEN THIS TINY HUMAN WILL VACATE MY BODY. I've been the exact opposite. The first four months were definitely rocky with nausea until I figured out it was the dairy making me feel awful, but rather than things settling down I began to deal with the complications brought on by hypermobility. Constant pain isn't really conducive to

Updates all around.

So, we've had our UK baby shower. Saturday just gone we had a houseful of people, same setup as our normal Thanksgiving arrangements, just different food. Rather than mash and mac'n'cheese, I did finger foods and pink desserts. If you need a seriously decadent and delicious lemon bar recipe, let me know, I found one on Pinterest a few weeks ago for Strawberry Lemonade Bars that I used for the party, and they are truly droolworthy. We were gifted a truly random assortment of bits. Some people used the list we registered for, some people went with gifts that meant something to them personally (like a replica of a childhood bunny from one particular friend), and some went with "pamper the mother-to-be" options. Then, of course, there was Darth Bunny. That's right, Darth Bunny. See below. It was a good day. Himself's best mate from childhood came up from Essex with his new wife to stay the weekend, there was at least one representative from every offic

Big daddy.

I've been thinking about fathers a lot lately. In a specific to my life sense, that is. In a specific sense, because it sucks that I didn't have a "daddy" the way little girls do in the movies. I mean, I had The Granddaddy, and he more than made up for any crappiness on the part of my actual father or stepfather, but it still wasn't... well, he wasn't my father. My father was too busy perfecting his lying and thievery, oh, and making my stepmother's life as miserable as humanly possible, to be the kind of daddy I needed. I couldn't depend on him for anything, and learned at an early age to take anything he promised with a hefty grain of salt. And the less said about my childhood relationship with my stepfather, the better. In a specific sense, because Himself didn't have a "daddy" the way little boys do in the movies. He only had his father around for the first eight years of his life, and when questioned he says that they didn'

I only scare the people that love me.

Namely, The Mimi. And Himself, of course. On Sunday, I woke up in the middle of the night. I assumed it was because I needed to pee (which is usually the case). I handled that, then got back into bed thinking I'd go back to sleep as usual, only to find that the reason I was awake was actually because my stomach was twice as hard as it usually is and hurt like bejeezus. Madam was flipping out in there as well, more frantic movements than I've ever felt, and constant ones as well. I knew it wasn't Braxton Hicks, it was more a constant pressure from just under my boobs to my bellybutton, nothing lower down, but BOY it hurt. The only thing that seemed to make it a little better was sitting up, so I would sit up for five or ten minutes then try to lie down, which made it hurt all over again. I finally ended up propping up with all my pillows and half sleeping sitting up... not the most restful state. I managed not to disturb himself too badly, which is a bonus in itself b

Pre-motherhood trips of the guilty variety.

I've been an excellent pregnant person. Well, from the side of being responsible, anyway, Himself might have a different opinion about how excellent I've been... *grin* I eschewed my beloved blue cheese, my constant companion sushi, and given up booze and caffeine. I started eating things like kale and flax seed. I drink two litres of water a day, and take my pregnancy vitamins like a good girl. All of this I have done for the love of the wee one I'm incubating. That said, I'm just about ready for her to be OUT OF ME. Her hiccups are annoying. I don't care how many women tell me that they loved the feeling of their unborn lovelies when they got the hiccups, you're not going to shame me into lying about it. It's bloody hard to go to sleep when Madam decides it's time for uterine gymnastics, which normally occur around about the third bathroom trip (3am ish). My stomach is so tight it feels like I'm about to burst like an overripe melon,

Playing catch up.

It's been a while. Save your castigation for later, because for now, I have good news. Sister One's visit went smashingly (and a little crashingly, with a no-harm-incurred tumble down the stairs on her part). We chatted, took a mini road trip, did some baking, it was lovely. That said, she also got to accompany me on a two hour magical mystery tour of the Hillingdon Hospital maternity ward waiting room while I underwent a fairly obnoxious blood test. The last bloods they drew showed that my blood sugar was a bit high, so they wanted me to take a glucose tolerance test. This involved fasting, giving blood, drinking a copious quantity of Lucozade (vile stuff), waiting two hours and then giving blood again to see how my body dealt with the influx of sugar from the drink. One took pictures, as she always does, got visual proof of needles and nasty Lucozade faces that are now posted in her albums on facebook for your enjoyment, and we went on our merry way. I was meant t

Himself.

I don't brag that often about Himself. It only gives him a big head. *grin* KIDDING... mostly. But today, let the bragging commence. Today began as usual, I made toast and tea and brought it upstairs for a light breakfast in bed while we read and messed with various felines as they appeared. I had a chiropractor appointment at eleven, so we had showers and Himself walked me up to see what I'm subjected to once a week (will get more into that in a later post). We stopped for a couple of sandwiches (and he bought a sausage roll which he proceeded to inhale before we made it home) and came back to the house for lunch. We were just sitting around, me reading Girl of the Limberlost and him watching football highlights on tv, when out he came with "I want to take you somewhere." Hmmm... okay. "Don't worry, we're not walking anywhere." So we're taking the car. Curiouser and curiouser. So off we toodled in the Focus to this unknown destination.

A tale of two mixers.

Whose kitchen currently holds two Kitchenaid mixers? That would be mine. *grin* Let me explain. Almost a month ago, I received a mysterious package addressed to Himself. As he hadn't told me he'd ordered anything, I rang him and queried its contents. He was equally clueless and told me to open it. That's when I noticed that the name on the return address label belonged to the male half of my adopted grandparents, the couple who spent years travelling with The Mimi and Granddaddy and still take her to breakfast (and us when we're in town) every Saturday morning. I sliced the packing tape with a growing sense of excitement, removed a layer of brown packing paper, and froze in absolute shock. There was a box inside the box. The inner packaging was emblazoned with a very familiar logo... namely, Kitchenaid. Not only that, it wasn't a case of an old box being used for new contents. There was a genuine Kitchenaid mixer lovingly cradled in its styrofoam nest. S

JB on the inside.

That's right, folks, we have seen the face of the future, and it is cute. At least, I think it is. Isn't it? Himself booked the 3D scan a couple of weeks ago, which impressed me no end as we hadn't really talked about it in a while, so yesterday afternoon saw us trundling along to Harley Street to meet JB. That sounds so effortless... let me just say, she's definitely related to her father. Remember the trifold attempts to get all the medical stuff ticked off the list with the scan we had a month ago? Yesterday was a repeat performance. *lol* She simply refuses to pose for pictures. Her hands were in her face for most of the session, which led to the sonogram tech moving me from back to side to back to side to... well, you get my drift. And I had to get up once and drink some Coke, in the hopes that the carbonation/caffeine combo would shift her. Ask me how effective that was. *grin* I finally resorted to child abuse and had a good poke around, and we got a f

Kale crazy.

I've heard so much about the health and vitamin properties of kale in the last few months, I finally caved in and bought some. Having brought it home, I immediately started trawling the internet for ideas on how to use it. The two below, funnily enough, I made up, but they were both delicious. The first was a weeknight dinner, the second was to pack and take to the Paul Simon concert tonight along with a huge pot of fruit salad (because I'm a total pig). *grin* Gnocchi with kale and red bell pepper 1. Mince two cloves of garlic and fry in a splash of hot olive oil (I used a wok, as the later stages are easier in a high bottomed pan) 2. Tear the stems from two or three healthy handsful of kale and tear the leaves into roughly bitesized pieces, add to the garlic in oil and stir thoroughly, cook for about three minutes to allow the leaves to wilt 3. Cut a red bell pepper into small chunks and toss in with the kale 4. Add about a cup of vegetable stock, simmer everything togeth

Sometimes I just get mad.

I am not a happy bunny today. I had a doctor's appointment last week to have some moles checked (pregnancy makes all sorts of stuff go wonky, moles being one of them). The doctor mentioned that it was time to have my 25 week checkup and had me book an appointment for today. I asked him what the appointment would cover, and he replied that it was just a general checkup. I got there this morning, he checked my blood pressure and asked if the baby was very active, all normal stuff, but then he asked me to hop up on the examining table. As this was a first, I asked what for. He said "to hear the heartbeat of the baby". !!! Had he told me last week that this would be the first appointment at which we would hear the baby's heartbeat, Himself would have taken the morning off work. That way, he could have been there for this milestone. Pardon me if I'm sounding a little overdramatic about it, but Himself has been there for all the firsts. He was there for the fir

Clean curtains and vegetable soup.

I've been pretty industrious since my return to the UK. I mean, yeah, I've spent an inordinate amount of time watching Gilmore Girls and napping with the cats (who are loving it, by the way), but I've also made two batches of soup, done laundry, run errands, and taken down the curtains to wash out the fifteen tons of cat hair that accumulated in the two months I was gone. Because yes, I washed them right before I went to Texas. People are always inordinately impressed that I make soup from scratch, which I never fail to find a little crazy. It's just so easy! Plus, this way I control the amount of sodium I'm putting into my body. I never used to give a toss about sodium, it's funny what being pregnant does to your interest in food... *lol* So, I thought I'd post exactly what I did to this batch of soup in the hopes that one of you out there will give it a go and be converted. For this batch, I went to the veg stall and bought just about everything the

First class and girl babies.

Brace yourselves, folks, this could be a long one. After four days at the airport, I finally made it on a flight. I was on the phone with Sister 3 when I glanced up and saw my name on the cleared list. I raced over to the desk to ask if I'd imagined it, but before I could get a word out the desk attendant ceremoniously handed me a ticket with my name on it. I might have kissed her on the cheek and then burst into tears from the relief. And, it wasn't just any old ticket... that's right, I got a seat in FIRST CLASS. It deserves the capitals. I was greeted at my seat with a flute of orange juice and a menu from which to choose my dinner selections...! I was given a real pillow, a real quilt, and noise cancelling headphones. Dinner was five courses. I managed to sleep for four full hours, and when i woke up I was greeted with a warm croissant and a plate of fresh fruit. I was given a fast pass through passport control. My hands, feet and ankles were not swollen. Ba

Home again, home again.

Well, not exactly. That's right, folks, I'm still in Texas. I've flown non-rev loads of times in the past. It's always been a little frustrating not to get on the plane with everybody else, to have that uncertainty about whether you'll be proceeding with your plans as scheduled, but it's always worked out in the end. I've only been bumped once, and that was just from first class to coach during the trip Himself and I had to take to LA for my spousal visa. I've never actually not made it onto a flight. This is a wholly new experience for me. I started trying to leave Wednesday (was that only yesterday?!)... There were only two flights that day, so I was there in plenty of time before the first one and checked my bags and waited patiently like a good little girl. I wasn't even perturbed when I didn't get on and got rolled over to the second flight. It wasn't even that big of a deal when I didn't make it onto the second flight and ha

Funerals suck.

Immature choice of words, accurate sentiment. Norma died. I know those of you Brit-side have no idea who I'm on about, but Norma was... well, she was awesome. She was officially a cousin several times removed, but I grew up thinking of her as sort of an honorary grandmother/aunt/person who spoiled me rotten. She kept me while I was a baby, and taught me to swear (when I was two, I said "well hell, I thought we were going to the damn store" to my mother... NOT AMUSED) and to play king-in-the-corner and solitaire while my great grandmother thought we were sleeping. She sang like an angel and whistled like a bird, baked the most sinful cakes (chocolate cake with white between layers and fudge icing, anyone?) and laughed like a loon. She's also the reason I can't eat fudge... *lol* When I was wee, she handed me a plate and let me go to town, which led to several days of sugar induced yuk. Haven't been able to touch the stuff since, which to my way of thinki

Spaghetti and bookishness.

So, it's eleven at night. I should be asleep. This, of course, means I'm blogging instead. Sleep and I aren't the fast friends we used to be. We're in a bit of a dry spell. Where I used to rush headlong into the waiting arms of Hypnos, now he and I hesitantly circle each other like junior high kids at a school dance. I am referring, of course, to the necessary evil of sleeping on my side. It hurts. My hips hate me. If I were physically able to ignore the severe discomfort of sleeping on my stomach as I used to so enjoy, I'd be constantly aware that I was squishing the baby. On occasion, I wake up with a start in the night lying flat on my back. This leads to the panic of "I've cut off my superior vena cava and JB will be born retarded!!!"... Hey, you can laugh, but my darker imagination is taking over these days. I'm certain that every little twinge down below means that something's terribly wrong, and today while standing on a chair

Clean sheets and dirty thoughts.

Here I sit, tucked up in bed (which by the way, has clean sheets due to my fit of productivity on my way out the door for work this morning) resting against a mound of pillows, watching my heart beat through my belly. Pregnancy is super weird, it's doing odd things to my body (my right ankle is swollen just at the front, not my toes, not both feet, just the front of my right ankle) and I'm having seriously dirty thoughts about Himself randomly throughout the day. Bloody hormones. He seems to be an even mixture of embarrassed and gratified by the trend my thoughts are taking, which is pretty cute. Things have been crazier than I intended them to be over the last few weeks. The job with OM has been super flexible, but damned if it doesn't make it hard to walk out the office door when leaving means cutting down on the paycheque for that week! *lol* That said, my earnings this week meant that I didn't have to put my new glasses on my credit card as I'd previously

Vegan gluttony.

Here I sit, in Granddaddy's chair with my feet up, laptop precariously balanced on what's left of my lap. I've eaten Chipotle at least six times since I got to Texas. For those of you not in the know, Chipotle does burritos. Heavenly, droolworthy burritos. I get mine with cilantro rice, black beans, sauteed onions and bell peppers, pico de gallo, corn salsa, lettuce and guacamole. When it's filled and rolled up, it's a little larger than the size of a can of Coke. Massive. Deee-licious. JB is a big fan. I will point out however, that Chipotle habit aside, I've actually lost weight in the last month. Going vegan cut out most of my caloric intake, and my body is thanking me. Himself was concerned about the health ramifications, but I had actually checked with my doctor before I left the UK and he assured me that I had plenty of weight to spare. *grin* I've lucked into a great job for while I'm home, OtherMother called me about a week after I got

Don't mess with Texas.

Coming out of arrivals was amusing. I was SICK, turbulence doesn't exactly agree with Jelly Bean. Airplane food either, for that matter, so we were not happy campers. However, my mother was there waiting when I drearily rolled my suitcases through the final set of doors, and she ran down the aisle to hug me and (of course) rub my belly. Monster Brother was there with her, but his attention span for waiting in airports is not huge, so he was lounging on a couch grumpily and refused to greet me until I informed him of the presence of airplane cookies in my bag with his name on them. I got a hug at that point. Walking out the doors into Texas weather was a bit of a shock, the turbulence on landing had been caused by a weather system moving into the DFW area, and the humidity had me not only feeling like I was swimming through the air, but also had me sporting a giant afro, which let me tell you was VERY attractive. My first real surprise came at the car, though. Monster Bro has

I'm a seasoned traveller.

I'm packing. And crying a little, but that's only because I'm pregnant and hormonal. That's right, folks, I'm leaving our 'appy 'ome for a little hiatus in Texas. I'm off tomorrow and will be back in mid-June. Most of me is excited. Most of me can't wait to see my family and spend the longest amount of concentrated time with them that I've had since I left in 2003. I'm looking forward to spending time in Austin with Sisters One and Three, and throwing an English tea party with Sister Two in her apartment in Denton. I'm looking forward to staying with The Mimi, and watching her taste the stuff I cook that she's never even heard of. I'm looking forward to hanging out with The Terror that is my youngest brother, we've made plans to go swimming (and eat nachos, of course). Speaking of nachos, I'm looking forward to Texan food. Then there's the part of me that's cringing a little at the prospect of almost two mo

Cheesecake saves lives.

That's right. I made our family's slightly infamous cheesecake for a friend's birthday, and made sure to send the uneaten portion home with anyone who would take it. Those take-home portions apparently caused some threatened violence unless the recipe was attained, and as I can't have blood shed over cheesecake, here's the recipe: 1 cup crushed graham crackers (I used oaty biscuits due to lack of graham crackers in the UK, but ginger is nice too) 1/4 cup chopped pecans (I omitted this step due to some people not liking nuts, just added an extra 1/4 cup biscuits) 1 1/2 (plus 1/3 cup for sour cream layer) cups sugar 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon 1/4 cup melted margarine three 8oz packages of cream cheese (softened) which is 680g, just less than three 200g packages 4 eggs 3 tsp vanilla 1 pint sour cream (this is an American liquid measurement, it's 473 ml in the UK) Preheat oven to 375F (190C) Mix the crushed biscuits, pecans, 1/4 cup sugar, cinnamon and margarine Pres