Fair Thee Well.. Kak day

This morning it dawned on me like a dark Tranvaal thunder cloud. Up until now I had never considered it, I admit it was a concern, but it was a concern that paled into insignificance in light of the ever increasing amount of larger problems I have been forced to deal with since “Thingy’s” arrival in my life.
When I put my mind to it, I can honestly say that I recall very few significant valentines days in my life. And to make matters worse the only Valentines’ day Eugene and I succeeded in spending together was marred by the fact that my scull was at that point registering its disgust with my lack of dental attention by expelling, rather painfully I might add, one of my back molars from my jaw.
The resulting effect was a 9pm high speed trip around Gauteng to find an emergency dentist (a species more endangered then the Do-Do) as the effects of the 26 mypaids I was sure would tide me over had worn of.
In preceding years my general attitude towards the utterly ridiculous waste of my time left much to be desired, as I marched about clad in black grumbling about consumerist propaganda. Those with a mind to persuade me that it was a “nice” holiday were told that I was dying from sugar shock and had their friend cards revoked.
No Ladies and Gentlemen Leanne Parker is by no means a Valentines day fan.

This said, I have to admit that when it finally dawned on me that this Valentines day would be the very last of these loathsome days that I would spend in a degree of care freeness I was slightly disturbed.
By Next year Eugene and I would have become one of those couples whose only wish for the day is peace and quite and some semblance of the life we once lived.
“Us time” will be at the top of our wish list.
Pleased don’t get me wrong I’m Pleased as pie (that’s one of my new mommy phrases) that by this time next year “Thingy” would have arrived in all its wet stinky glory, I am simply caught in a moment of reflection.

All of this however has driven me to the decision that I am going to moderately scale down the bitching to a tolerable level where I may enjoy and celebrate the next 6months of moments where I will be able to say “you know this is the last time”
Like the last Christmas we spent as people.
The very last time I saw my waistline.
The last time I could walk into a shop and not dart for the baby section.
The last time I googled anything that had nothing to do with pregnancy or children.
My last birthday that I can behave irresponsibly (well almost)
The last DVD I get to rent that isn’t animated
The last time we can go to a restaurant that doesn’t have high chairs
The last time we can…..well you know… I think my gran reads this I can’t say that kina stuff.

And sometime in September “Thingy” will arrive and put and end to life as I know it.
The birth of our baby will put an end to a great many things.
For instance hopefully it will put an end to the raging argument about “Thingy’s” name and sex.
“Thingy” will put and end to whole nights of sleep and nursery decoration.
He or she will poop and pee its disgust at afternoon naps and every item of white clothing mom owns.
I hear passing the pencil test also becomes a thing of the past and oh lets not forget the slow painful death of the “entertainment budget”
Contrary to popular believe I will not become a citizen of the state of mourning for a time that has quite obviously run its coarse.
No I have decided that I am going to keep my mind on the rare privilege in my future. One reserved for children and new mommies and daddies.
After all who would have thought that at the age of 25 I will be able to say
“this is the first time”
And while clubs and couture and sleeping till 9am will fade into the memories of my past my future hold new things like;
First Christmases, first time at a family restaurant as a family, first smile, first step, first day of school….

On other news I just bought two huge yet stylish tops that should hide the baby bump for a while.
Aunty Chaz has graciously offered to buy “Thingy” a cot and I suspect that her motivation behind the generosity spawns from being witness to my past dealings with children.
Granny Ina has been equally as giving and has found a cherry wood compactem for “Thingy’s” bath and other gee-go’s and Granny Parker is sewing her fingers to the bone creating a doughnut contraption.

Eugene and I will be spending out Valentines at the Wescliff hotel pretending that we are Oh so La-di-da and taking full advantage of the end of morning sickness and exhaustion oh and that other perk that comes along with pregnancy

CHANGING

I maintain that I must have once had a relationship with “that man Murphy” a relationship ,mind you, that must have gone sour because I can honestly not think of any other reason for a person to begrudge me so maliciously.
You see a few days ago I was reaching the end of my rapidly fraying rope, I felt like I was drowning and in accordance I posted a very strongly worded bitch fit to express to my very minute reader base that I felt like utter crap and I needed someone to tell me that its okay and remind me that this little pitfall is a ditch in comparison to some of the mighty sinkholes I have talked my way out of.
I have decided to not remove that ill advised rant from this documentation of my pregnancy, arguing that, contrary to popular believe, I am not that far removed from the normal 2x chromosome baring homosapian and if I have days like these other preggies have them too and somewhere there should be someone telling these poor sods that its quite normal to despise your life from time to time.
(Dear reader if you do decide to hate your life please do so responsibly)
Damn I’ve lost my train of thought…….
Oh yes. As I was going to say in my very long winded explanation of something mind numbingly simple…..
This post however served a duel purpose in that it proved to me that my little thingy has inherited its daddies good luck gene.
Not only did the whole financial mess take a positive turn after the post but something very strange happened.
An old friend whom I have not spoken to in a year tract my blog down and read it.
Refreshing as it is to hear that there are still people out there who are into the kind of self fladulating behavior that would prompt one to sit through my over descriptive monologs, I Still came close to swallowing my tongue when she phoned.
In a state of utter shock we met for coffee and my friend then proceeded to hand me the subject for my next post on a silver platter.
(And you thought this was the post)
“I remember” she said, and I flinched as I tend to do when people start sentences like that lately. “You used to say that you would never have children”.
I smiled and tried to pan my current pregnant state off to fate having decided otherwise.
The fact of the matter however was that she was quite right about my past convictions and admittedly I had mentioned that I was waiting for menopause before I decided to have kids.
This got me thinking, and after about five seconds of quite contemplation (I can only manage five seconds at a time) I realized that practically every single one of my convictions have been changed by the abrupt arrival of the Thingy into my life.
Pre-pregnancy I professed that I would take every possible step to have a pain free birth and now I advocate natural birth.
I was convinced that hospitals were the place to be and yet today I am making plans to convince gene that a home birth would be better.
Don’t even get me started on the breast feeding thing.
But I think the most markable change is the fact that I am bursting at the seems with excitement at the prospect of becoming a mom.
How weird is that.
Next thing you know Ill want to get married, luckily I know that the scheduled falling of the sky will prevent this lunacy from coming to fruition… but still.

Eugene is no exception to the matter. The man has become a walking talking baby catalog, as he merrily goes on his way dealing with this as he does with any momentous occasion in his life.
By buying gadgets.
Luckily for him Babies come with lots of gadgets and my man has been having sleepless nights fantasizing about his plans to make our kid the most wired up baby in the history of man kind.
He has also adopted that far away contemplative look you used to see superman wearing as he gazes into the sunset and reflects on how to change world.
It seems that while a woman grows to the size of an oil tanker during pregnancy men change in their own way and suddenly shoulder the responsibility of changing the world to a place fit to house the fruit of his loins.
He will stop using bad language and start smoking outside, he’ll chastise you about the way you drive and the safety of what you drive.
He’ll start reading the labels on food stuffs to check for led paint, melamine and whatever ells the Chinese are poisoning our food with.
Dad’s to be walk around the garden plotting out construction sites for jungle gyms and tree houses.
He becomes concerned with the swimming pool gate that doesn’t lock and starts training three boisterous pit bulls to play softly.
I swear my dogs are the only dogs in the world that adjust their behavior the moment the word baby is mentioned.
He becomes a decorator and handy man, and gives me disapproving looks every time I forget about the child proving and almost rip the cupboard door off its hinges.

And every week and every day that goes by while you curse things like stretch marks, bathplug nipples and the cost of baby crap you realize that what they say in those cliché magazines is true.
The moment you fall pregnant the you that you knew dies and you start from scratch because everything changes, its like being a teenager all over again.
And just when you think you’ve come to terms with pregnant you, you have to start again and meet mommy you.
How daunting
YAY FOR ME!

Reset, Restart, Reload

During my short stint as a PC gamer I developed a handy sense for when a mission has gone so far wrong it’s beyond salvation. I learnt to cut my loses instead of forging ahead to an almost certain defeat.
Today is not shaping up to be a good day, I would wager that it may turn out to be an even more dismal day then yesterday.
Today I find myself reflecting on the fact that life like those games has reached a point where the mission should be aborted, the outcome is almost certainly hopeless and despite my best efforts I am drowning.
Unfortunately in real life the reset button is the off button and you don’t get to try again later.
I was short paid this last month and I fear the same outcome at the end of the month.
The house is costing us a fortune and people owe us money.
My medical aid may not cover my pregnancy and there is no way of knowing whether they will without my condition being diagnosed.
We can’t do that because we have no money.
Nedbank wants to sue me Nashua mobile wants to sue me Im behind on my car payment and my loan payment.
My car needs services my tires have no tread on them my rims are bent and I have no breaks.
I have fines to pay, and a child to prepare for.
People are pressuring me to get married, I don’t have enough clients.
I desperately want to see my baby just to make sure that all this is real but I cant afford the scan, Im playing a guessing game about stuff I know nothing about.
I want to crawl into a hole and never come out again.
Eugene is so good about trying to keep me from stressing but I know hes worried so Im more worried because I am helpless.