Random ramblings from the Texan in London.

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...

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'...

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...

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, ...