The Ignorance of some

I've just watched a new episode of Grimm. Check the title, if you know your literature, you'd get a sense of what the story is about. Yes, based on the old Brothers Grimm tales, so if you know your Grimm story books, you'd get the idea of the show. Only problem being, I'm dealing with someone who has never heard of the stories of the Brother's Grimm!

Now, being the Librarian, story teller, reader that I am, I know very well who the Grimm boys were, what they wrote and how their stories were a base for so many other things. What I find disappointing is some dude out there wrote a great storyline for a new tellie-series and there are numerous plebs who won't get the witty one liners, opening sequences, and character portrayals. I feel sorry for that poor person who had the great idea, and then all these people are watching this show for the chewing gum, brain numbing effect that teev seems to have on people and missing all the witty one liners, character development and repartee. And I have to explain it. Seems such a waste sometimes. Maybe they were appealing to all those intelligent folk who did get the stories of old and understood where some of our best and scariest children stories came from? It certainly wasn't Walt.

Never underestimate the importance of a Librarian in explaining character/plot development and who the various characters are supposed to be. Have I also mentioned I'm a cracker to have on your side when it comes to Trivial Pursuit and anything Music/literature/television? :-)

When the music goes away...

One of the pitfalls of having children I guess is your life becomes all about them, their needs/wants etc and their music. For the past few years it's been all about The Wiggles, Hi-5, and Incy Wincy bloody spider. I'm a really musically minded person, the in-brain radio is always playing, sometimes easy listening, sometimes nostalgia, sometimes you really don't want to know. But it all suits a mood. A place. A time. A feeling. Childrens music has this tendency to just kill that.
For ages I noticed a shift in my mood. Nothing that you would call hormonal, ok, maybe so, but something that wasn't quite right. I've always loved music, played the piano when I was younger until the doctor said to stop or it was surgery for my poor hands, had headphones when I was at work, always was humming or singing something. But with the introduction of children, the music, my music, went away. It was like the pause button got pressed. A bit like my life really, career, books to be read, gardens to be grown, friends to catch up with, all was put on hold. And it's only just recently, very slowly being righted.
The girls are growing up, my gardens are coming back, and I've almost found my music. I've a long way to go, but there isn't that funny discord with the world. Never mind the fact that bloody channel 7 isn't working and I can't watch Packed to the Rafters, I've got the next best thing, an extensive mp3 library, both children asleep and the rest of the house to myself. The ol' mojo is coming back. Well, until I hear a rustle on the baby monitor that is. ;-)

When do you let the past go?

I love facebook, ok, maybe I don't. For some reason I'm having a moment of contemplation, I'm wondering about my past. Before the current life, before the girls, the man, and the house in the 'burbs, so should I just let it go and be happy?
I looked up a friend. Sure she was a friend of a life past, a former bridesmaid in fact. She was at my first wedding, years ago, and since then she split, left town, I split, left town, got divorced etc and have the happy life I have now. Why then or what possessed me to google or search facebook for a name I remembered. I found her, she'd gotten married and had a child. She also had listed on her facebook page my ex. And while I don't hate him, I don't have any real desire to see him, chat to him or even throw rotten eggs at him from afar. Maybe I just don't really care for him hearing how my life is going. Maybe I'm old enough, or moved on enough to be over the stuff from the past and not care.
I care about her, and I care about the other person I looked up. And messaged. Crap, this is almost as bad as texting. What if she responds? What made me want to look up the past and make some contact? Why these days am I thinking more and more about the years before now? Will it hurt any of the current players in my life, or is it just some frivilous curiousity of people past?
I'm nervous and excited to see if either girl responds. Hell, I text frequently the girl who would have been my sister-in-law of sorts if I'd stayed in that past life. Just makes me realise that some people don't care about what has gone before and instead value the friendships they had. Or the friendships they do have now, regardless of water under the bridge.

Either way, it's late, there is snoring from the couch and I have 2 angels to check on.
The past may be out there, but the present is under this roof.

Something Instinctual

While rocking G back to sleep today, aside from looking down at her sleeping face and having those gushy moments of 'Aw gee, isn't she cute!' I thought to myself that there was nothing I would not do to protect this child.
Now don't get me wrong, I know you're probably going 'well duh, she is your daughter an all' but wait for it. I'm talking anything possible, jump in front of car type possible. And for some reason that got me thinking about Lindi Chamberlain. Remember her? 'The dingo's got mah baby' Lindi Chamberlain. Bear with me on this one.
Ok, in Lindi's transcript of the trial she said that she awoke and say a dingo carrying off baby Azaria. Ok, dingo carrying struggling, crying 3-4 kilo odd shaped object ie baby, ok, possibly. But the clincher was when she said, she 'saw the dingo carrying off my kid and I ran to get help.' Well hold on. If some insolent, feral dog even dared to breath in the direction of my flesh and blood, I would bludgeon it with my bare hands. How dare it even think about looking in the direction of my child, that child that I spent a good 5 hours and 45 minutes pushing into the world. The fruit of my loins etc. No bloody feral mutt is going to hurt my baby, and run the other way for help? Pah, I'd run that piece of canine fur down and give it a darn good talking to about the stupidity of daring to touch my baby. Regardless of whether or not it decided to have a go at me, my priority would be getting my child (not kid), back. That's what I mean by instinct. And while I didn't fully understand the whole deal before I had G, I sure do now. I'm inclined to think the lady was guilty or covering up something. But who knows. Either way, through the whole deal, she appeared to lack that 'mother's instinct' and thats a shame. Coz it truly is a wonderful thing, especially when you get the super human strength to go with it. ;-)

It started with G

23rd of Feb finally saw the arrival of G, man she sure took her time! And since then I'd be lying if I said it was all smooth sailing. But hey, that's babies for you.

But for now, I'm back, well whenever there is a spare moment. No longer stuck in an office, my world has become the baby, the dogs, and the walls of this house. Maybe I should change the name of the blog to "view from the kitchen sink". ;-) Just kidding.

So if you're chasing fashion, social hijinxs and sordid tales of affairs hanging from chandeliers, I'd go check another blog, coz this sure aint the one for you!

Hormones, hunger and hissyfits

Houston we have hormones.

Check, instant crying for goodness knows what reason. Rose 'dies' on Doctor Who, crank out the tissues. (sorry for spoiling it but maybe she doesn't, stay tuned) I find that I dont fit in regular bras anymore, go the tears, Mum shows me a maternity bra, thats it sonny-jim. I'm not regularly a hormonal, teary personage but by golly thes tear ducts sure are copping a workout!

Oh and I pretty much almost cried when going for a scan yesterday and seeing that little parasitic space prawn waving it's hand at me and sucking it's thumb. It was kinda cute, in a disembodied 'this isn't related to me' kind of way.

For a 6 foot tall Amazonian, I can sure put alot of food away. Every hour it's foodage going down, a large family size packet of Allens snakes sits proudly in my desk drawer to help me get through that 5 minutes before lunch and if I dont get fed, well see tears and head chewing. Not a good look. It is amazing how much you want to eat, but with any queasiness you just can't do it! Days read something like this:
Wake up, go get food. (right after peeing of course)
Bathroom
Get to work, bathroom, go to kitchen make toast, 2 pieces at least with vegemite and/or cheese.
Work for about an hour
Back to kitchen for more toast
Work some more
Go on coffee break for 2 spicy fruit muffins and a large water
Go back to work
Munch on strawberries and cream, jellybeans or snakes. Raid bottom drawer for those forgotten gingersnaps.
Lunch

See what I mean! I'm a life sized incubator for something that demands excessive quantities of foodage, not to mention hassling my bladder constantly. Notice how I left out the 10 visits to the bathroom amongst all that eating.

Hissyfits and tantrums, expect 'em, they happen. Usually if food is not forthcoming. This happens in the morning if someone isnt quick enough to relieve staff for a break, lunch time if Riff can't answer my question about what time we are going fast enough, and in the car on the way home when it's been an hour since I ate. Can also be when we arrive home and I dont make it to the pantry in time. It's nasty, it's relationship/day/night/mood killing, and it aint fun. Lesson learnt, pack all manner of munchables in any bag you are carrying, my workbag holds muesli bars, my weekend bag has a snickers and a bottle of water, my going out nighttime bag has tic-tacs and small boiled sweets. Yes, sad I know, but the only way I can stop from going from a mild-mannered person to a raving lunatic looking for blood. You think I'm kidding? I'm not, it's crazy.

So now that I have made it past the intrepid 12 week mark and the space prawn is looking more human thank planktonish, I can say hooray! Just waiting for that week where they reckon you glow, and everything is cool, and your stomach doesn't feel like a constantly churning garbage compactor. Bring it on!

Something quite alien

Well after the last dramas for the week, and the 'taking it easy' (see bored out of my skull), it was off for the necessary 'we just want to check that everything is ok' scan. Friday morn saw Riff and I parked at the local Diagnostics place all set for the gel on the belly procedure. 'Did you drink your litre of water beforehand?' the lady asked. 'If I see a sign for bathroom, I'm going to pop,' I said. 'I'll take that as a yes,' she said grinning maniacally.
What is it with people who derive glee from others dying to wee?

On the bed, suitably mundane scanning over other bits. Ovaries? Check. Other girly bits? Check. No funny looking lumps? Check. Oooo whats this here? Seems I had a bubble in my innards that had decided to sort of pop. Nothing to worry about, gave me a scare though, but it explains alot of bad stabby pain and general discomfort for the week. Phew, weight off my mind. blip blip blip ooo whats that? That would happen to be your baby's heart beating. IT FRICKIN WHAT?!?!?!? Holy crap!

There it was, on that grainy screen, a little fluttering thing, so tiny, beating away madly. Riff standing there in shock, I'm lying there in shock just thinking 'oh my gosh, it's a little babay in there'. There was something quite surreal about the whole thing. Hard to believe really, still can't associate the photos on the scans, from what is actually happening. Nah, can't be me surely.

So there you have it, first month, first attempt, it bloody happened. All the dramas, the wondering, the waiting, the obsessive testing, it happened. Crap, all the other associated crap starts now. The obsessing about what kind of mother will I be, can we afford it, what about work, how the heck am I going to tell my siblings/friends/world? Guess I've already covered that one, thank you mister internet. I am only about 7 weeks now, so still have the danger weeks to go, only about 5 more of them so am being a good girl and taking it kinda easy. Queasiness has already kicked in and it's quite weird for someone who usually eats huge meals constantly, I can't eat alot of my usual stuff at the moment, makes me too ill.

So there you have it boys and girls, appears I am 'up the duff', officially, with the grainy images to prove it. ;-)