FFS Friday: Catch-Up Edition

I’m back!! Again... I swear, I do love to blog, but things have been hectic in disgusting ways so getting at the computer has been impossible. But here I am, just in time for a catch-up FFS, going out in solidarity with the beautiful Sarah at Dear Baby G.

Strap yourselves in, it’s a big’un!

Diddy is still calling my uterus home... No FFS

Offense is being taken at sharing personal space with my internal organs. She’s waged war against them...FFS

I’m 36 weeks. They told me I’d maybe last until 35 weeks, so I’m getting uncomfortable and impatient...FFS

I’m still Braxton Hicksing away for a good part of every day....FFS

I tell ya, with all these ‘practice’ contractions, my uterus better be well-rehearsed for a drama free birth...FFS

Despite measuring ‘small for my dates’ from the outside, an ultrasound this week shows that Diddy is, in fact, HUMUNGUS...FFS

I’m going to give birth to freaking Sasquatch... FFS

Boo (O) has gone from not wanting to know me straight into abandonment issues...FFS

Everytime I get frustrated at her, she bursts into tears and declares ‘you don’t like me anymore, you’re going to leave me!’...FFS

Not sure if being manipulated or...FFS

We have an enrolment interview next week with the local Catholic school...No FFS

I’m not sure I’m ready to have a kid in school...FFS

I’ve checked out of parenting Bozo (L)...FFS

This might sound harsh on 18 different levels, but his mother is using him as a means of manipulating myself and his father...FFS

She refuses to buy him new clothes for her house, and I’m too tired and pregnant to cope with arguing that it’s not our responsibility to outfit him when he’s under her roof...FFS

Beyond that, his mother and grandmother don’t make him do anything for himself, and his personal autonomy is diminishing rapidly...FFS

The kid is 10 and can’t wash himself properly....FFS

I’ve had to check out in self-defence or my brain will explode from the frustration...FFS

Husbeast is still unemployed...FFS

In a way, this is a positive. There’s no question that he’ll be able to come to hospital with me no matter the time of day or night...FFS

However, keeping our heads above water on welfare payments is getting to be exhausting...FFS

I’ve gotten very resourceful with cheap food...No FFS

But the family car (which is as old as I am) probably only has another 6 good months in it...FFS

Husbeast has finally gotten the hint that I'm not moving and started doing the cooking and cleaning I'm no longer mobile enough to manage... No FFS

BUT

Did I mention I’m STILL pregnant? FFS

Ohh I missed this. I’m sorry, Sanity-Seekers, I’ll never leave you for this long again!!

FFS Friday: Preemies and Withheld Love

Friday’s here again!! We know what Friday means, right boys and girls? Time for Mummy to whinge the day away with Dear Baby G!! Get excited!

Cleaned my house Sunday to prepare for an influx of visitors for an Intimo party... cleaned so hardcore I knocked the wind out of myself...FFS

Halfway through the party, I started to have Braxton Hicks... strong, uncomfortable ones... FFS

Rode them out all through Sunday night and Monday before finally heading to the hospital...FFS

Diddy is perfectly healthy and willing to stay inside for at least another week or two...No FFS!!

But I feel like a nufty for not being able to endure ‘Braxton Hicks’ without the assistance of paramedics...FFS

BUT THEY HURT...FFS

O still treats me as someone who is only there to feed and care for her between visits to her Daddy’s...FFS

I know she loves her Daddy, but I wish she’d love me a little sometimes, too...FFS

I’m getting paranoid about a 4 year old withholding affection...FFS

Sneaky mini mofo has me conned into ANYTHING to make sure she loves me just as much as Daddy...FFS

I’ve chatted with her Dad about it... he LAUGHED...FFS

Disclaimer: I honestly adore how much O loves her Daddy, and how much he loves her. I'm just whinging because it's what I do!!

 

After resting in an effort to stop Diddy from making an untimely entrance into this world, all the good cleaning I did Sunday is rapidly unravelling...FFS

And to top it off, I woke up LEAKING at 3am....I’m 28 weeks. It’s too early!!! FFS!!!

So what's got you a little FFS-y this week? 

Thankful Thursday: An Eventful Hospital Visit

Pain. Slightly disconcerting pain, and some things that didn’t feel right. A call to Nurse on Call and more pain.  A suggested doctor’s visit aaaand more PAIN.

Monday wasn’t a good day for me. I woke up, got O to kinder and began to be very aware of some twinges in my lower back and belly. I was 27 weeks, 6 days pregnant, so it was MUCH too early for what I suspected these pains were. I had some extra symptoms going on, and a call to the state Nurse service, suggesting I see a doctor as soon as I possibly could got me a bit on edge. I sat around riding out the pain all day, managed to get O home and waited for B to come look after me.

At 4.30pm, the local GP couldn’t tell me whether I was in premature labour or not, and suggested I go home, rest and call an ambulance if the pain got worse. My GP isn’t my baby doctor, the nearest OB was an hour away at the hospital where I’m planning to deliver, so all I could do was nod miserably and go home.

B got home at around 5.30 after helping build a cool room all day. By this stage, I felt sure I was contracting. The pains were making me cry and squirm. I begged B to get O fed and have a shower, while I called my Dad and Stepmum to check they could come and take O in case things progressed...which they did. Fresh out of the shower, B was on the phone to the ambulance asking them to come and get us. I needed to go to the hospital. I was in pain, and I was scared, begging my tiny person to stay put.

The paramedics and my Dad arrived around the same time, and I half-listened to O trying to con Poppy into taking EVERY TOY SHE OWNS to his house, until she realised something was happening to me and came to watch them strap me to the stretcher. Her big, curious eyes. 

“ ‘Scuse me, Ambulance,” she addressed the Paramedic. I remember, because it made everyone smile. “Will my mummy come home to me tomorrow?”

The young female paramedic told my little one she wasn’t sure, but they were doing everything they could to make her Mummy better. This, coupled with the notion of my ride as an adventure (an idea cleverly orchestrated by Dad and Stepmum) was enough to reassure O, who waved and blew kisses before climbing into my Dad’s ute as the ambulance pulled out my driveway, a concerned B and a panicked me inside.

Things were slowing down now. Murphy’s Law always kicks me with ambulances. I’m in serious pain until they come, then I’m fine and I feel like a hypochondriac. Nevertheless, they took me the hour to my delivery hospital. 

I was taken straight into a delivery room. Examined, pressed, prodded. My little person was sitting breech, quite high up. I had bloods, swabs, the works. They were checking me over, reassuring me. Keeping me warm, keeping B calm. They reassured him that he could stay the night with me (he had no way home) and me that I wasn’t in labour. THANK GOD. But they were giving me some steroids to mature Diddy’s lungs, just in case. I was staying overnight, and I was having scans in the morning.

I didn’t sleep that night. My pain had stopped, my cheeky monkey was playing tricks on me, and I was feeling silly.

The next morning, my dad came and took B home, and I went for my scans, to see everything was fine. Then I was left to my own devices for a few hours, reading crappy magazines and writing questions I hadn’t yet asked the maternity clinic staff, birth plans and hospital bag lists.

At 5pm, they released me with a second steroid shot and instructions to REST!! Relieved, B and I hopped in the car and headed for home. A stop to see O, spending another night with Poppy so I could rest.

I’m not sure what to think now. Every twinge, every niggle scares me. I’m being told I need to be aware, and not to hesitate to go back. I’m getting the impression, with the steroid shots and the midwife who sat with me and gently suggested maybe I should get a few preemie-size grosuits, that we’ll be meeting our tiny person slightly sooner than anticipated. I’m packing my hospital bag now, my birth plan is sorted and I’m making sure things are ready as best I can, and that arrangements are made for O should I have an absence.

But today, I’m celebrating Thankful Thursday with Six By TheBay. I’m thankful that my little person stayed put, and is still in there. I’m thankful that when I was scared, and in pain, and needed to get to a hospital that it could happen. I'm thankful that I was looked after and checked over, not made to feel silly for my panic and pain. I’m thankful to be surrounded by family who took care of O, B and myself when we needed it. But most of all, no matter when my baby comes, by all accounts it’s a healthy bubba. I’m thankful that I’m breeding a healthy baby, and that I can fight to give that baby the best chance at a good life.

Best Mother's Day EVER!

After four years of motherhood and five Mother’s Days, I can honestly, without hesitation, say that this year was the best I’ve had.

Watching my babies play the Wii. Quiet bliss

There were no extravagant gifts, no elaborate breakfasts in bed, no grand excursions. In fact, I was kind of lethargic and spacey for most of the day, but when I took stock at the end of it, I was smiling.

My first Mother’s Day was celebrated with jewellery (which I had bought myself), followed by O’s father receiving a call from his parents inviting him and O to lunch – not me. In fact, I was explicitly NOT invited, the removal of my daughter masked as ‘giving me a break’. I ended up at my own mother’s house in tears.

My second and third were 100% ignored by my then-partner. He told me I wasn’t his mother, nor the mother of HIS child, so it wasn’t up to him to celebrate with me. In fact, the second year we were together, he locked himself in his computer room for thirteen hours straight, then got confused when I expressed my hurt. Screw that dude.

Last year I worked a twelve-hour bar shift while my little girl spent the day with B. Because of this, I was awake early, home late, and far too cranky at missing the day with my princess to consider celebrating anything except finishing work!

This year, to me, was perfection. I woke up early and stoked the fire, then snuck back to bed before my husband and O were awake, and dozed back to sleep. I was woken by cuddles from my precious girl, who presented me with two handmade cards, Polaroid photos of her and her brother and a keychain with one of her drawings in it, created at kindergarten. B offered breakfast in bed, but I declined, because I wasn’t feeling great. I asked for some fruit to be cut up, and was given beautiful fresh apple and mandarin, which was exactly what I wanted – no weak tea, cold toast or overly-filling and over-topped pancakes. 

Yep, that's me! Best gift ever.

I had a ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ call from my stepson, L while I watched O and B play on the Wii and quietly read my book. I made what I wanted for lunch (chicken risotto) rather than bending to the sulks from O and making eggs, with B reminding O that today was ‘about what Mummy wanted’ I visited my mum, had dinner at my Dad’s place, came home with a child so tired she easily went to sleep and ended the day with a footrub  from my hubby, a welcome relief from the swollen ankles and sore heels of pregnancy. 

Risotto for lunch. Because that's exactly what I wanted.

I slept better than I have in months, totally content that I’d had the best Mother’s Day of my life, because to me the day isn't about gifts. It's about being reminded that my kids and partner love and appreciate the things I do to make their lives good. It's about knowing that (for one day a year) I can do what it is I want, even clean or cook if I feel like I want to. It's about time with family, and love from my babies. 

How did your Mother’s Day shape up? Was it the best yet? What did your best-ever Mother’s Day look like?

It’s Tuesday, which means I Blog on Tuesdays with Essentially Jess. Live it, love it.

FFS Friday: The Comeback Edition

I’m back in fine form this week for a little whinging action... strap yourself in!

I love Grumpy Cat much too much

This week kicked off with a bang. On Monday, prior to returning L to his mother’s after two weeks of school holidays, he put in a request to be allowed to take home some Zucchini Slice for school lunches...No FFS

I made said Zucchini Slice, bagged it up and it was taken with him. He greeted his mother with ‘My lunch is all set for the next 5 days! Tara’s made sure I get fed’...Obnoxious mofo...FFS

His mother wasn’t particularly keen on this, as I’d known she wouldn’t be, but I suspect my cherub’s turn of phrase will give me another good month in my position of AntiChrist...FFS

Tuesday, B and I discovered a call bar on our mobile phones...FFS

This, despite trying to arrange a payment plan to stop this happening, an option we were told ‘Telstra doesn’t offer’...FFS

When we spoke to someone Tuesday, we were told this kind of plan WOULD have been an option, but now that barring was in place we’d have to pay the full overdue amount to remove the bar...Oh FFS

I got rather...heated... with an operator, who hung up on me. We’re now waiting for our formal complaint to be processed... FFS

All this happened four days before payday, so it’s been very quiet in the Sanity household...FFS

Paying this bill out will bite into 60% of our grocery and fuel budget, so looks like a lot of Scrambled Eggs in our house for the next two weeks...FFS

O’s Daddy cancelled her weekly sleepover visit due to having the flu....Not a FFS

This meant that, instead of my Friday morning sleep-in, I was awake at the crack of 6.30 with a preschooler seeking breakfast...FFS

So I’m looking down the barrel of a Friday full of...FFS!!?!

It's a lovely day to link up for a whinge with Dear Baby G, the Queen of FFS!