Rough with the smooth

So much for my 2009 positivity. So much for clouds having silver linings. I'm really down in the depths this week. My inspiration has dried up. I'm finding it hard to work or concentrate. I'm losing patience with my toddler daughter and losing my temper too.

I found out this week that my unborn baby might have something wrong with it. Results of screening have put me (or rather my 18 week old unborn baby) at a high risk. It's something I had NEVER thought would happen. Not to me. I'm young (ish), fairly fit and healthy.. I thought I'd be fine. Guess you never know do you. I'm hoping everything will be ok but you have to prepare for the worst don't you. No good pretending everything will be fine if it won't. I've been in hospital and have had some tests done and have to wait now to find out what the results are... which will determine the fate of my little wriggler. God I hope everything will be ok - the odds are stacked in my favour but you can't help feeling that you might be that one statistic.. that 'one' out of however many. What a funny hand life deals you. My last pregnancy was unplanned, unwanted to begin with and extremely stressful. And it was the easiest pregnancy I could have wished for. This one was planned, wanted to badly and has been such a happy time for me up until now. I feel like I have to put my emotions and feelings for the baby on hold until I know if everything will be ok. It's a very surreal time. Motherhood is peppered with highs and lows, new feelings and experiences every day; I really had no idea. I always feel faced with something and this latest bomb is another emotion, another stage to get through, another experience in the scrap book of life. Never what you expect. But I'm a believer in fate and hope that my philosophy will get me through this time. Be grateful for what I have and try to focus on the good things. Hold that thought.

The realities of motherhood, pregnancy and yummy mummies

I'm reading a book at the moment - I read about one book a year - in January. Must be something to do with resolutions. It usually takes me about 4 months to read it from beginning to end - 3 pages here, a chapter there. But it's nice to read. I like it. I'm reading a book called the Rise and Fall of a Yummy Mummy. My sister in law lent it to me - she's a mother too, and her little girl is month younger than mine. While it's not a brilliant book, it's mama trash and I'm enjoying having a brainless read. It's inspired this post actually.

Before I had children I thought pregnancy was this beautiful, romantic time of swelling mother and growing unborn child. I hadn't realised that it was nine (more like ten) months of losing your figure, teetotal-dom, massive sore tits, dandruff, nosebleeds, spots, lank hair, sickness, cravings, uncomfort, bad back, swollen ankles, swollen fingers, swollen fucking everything, stretch marks. It's not the 'sit back and put your feet up darling' waited on hand and foot moment I had been led to believe. The reality is that it's real life - but harder and you feel like shit for quite a lot of it. (although I secretly love the whole pregnancy thing).

And motherhood isn't hours of coo-ing, cuddling, Johnsons baby powder fragranced nurseries and gurgles and giggles. It's sick on your shoulder, leaking nipples, more stretch marks, weight gain not loss, looking like shit because you dont' have the time to put make up on - or shower, nipple thrush, mastitis, piles, loads of washing, and real life still happens too. You've still got ironing and shopping to get done.

So much for yummy mummies. My sister in law and I call us Slummy Mummies! Slobbing on the sofa with a tub of ice cream watching girlie movies. And why not - surely that is the reality for most of us mothers. By the end of the day you are too knackered to go out and drink champagne daaarling; you want to have a bath, curl up and chill out. Before reality strikes again the following morning. There is so much pressure on mothers to look the part, act the part, be financially independent, professionally successful, have perfectly behaved, clean and well presented children, look after their husbands, keep an immaculate home. Well I'd like to ask one question - who the fuck looks after us?

Silver linings, positivity and good things

Welcome 2009. You are very welcome indeed. I'm glad 2008 is over. It wasn't the best year I've had. Although when I reflect on it some really wonderful things happened, and I'm grateful to 2008 for teaching me so much and getting me to where I am now... hard as it was. On the bright side:

• My husband and I got through some tough (really majorly tough) times and we are now expecting a second baby
• I got a job - a good one that pays well (although I have the jitters about it and wonder how long it'll be before it goes tits up)
• I learnt the value of money - credit crunch, recession, whatever you want to call it - my lifestyle had to change and I'm embracing it (but not too closely... bring back the days of designer shoes please someone!)

There were other celebrations too - like my brothers wedding. And sad times too, when my uncle died. But on the whole, now I think back, it wasn't so terrible.

So what's in store this year 2009? What are you gonna throw at me? Give me your best shot - I can take it. I'm prepared, willing and feeling invincible! Joking apart, I'm excited about this year. Firstly we're having a classic winter - cold and frosty - so I've got high hopes for a decent summer. I really want (need) a good summer because I'll have a tiny baby and I want to be able to sit in parks and laze under trees in the warm summer afternoons. I've always wanted to do that. I must have seen it in a film once upon a time.

Also I want to earn some good money before the summer - get my teeth stuck into my work and have the money to show for it. My daughter started pre school yesterday - let me tell you it was almost as emotional as giving birth. Seeing her tiny body in its branded school sweat shirt going into the little room and sitting on the floor with the other children broke my heart. If only I could have stayed and watched, but I knew I had to leave her and let her get on with it. What I would have done to be a fly on the wall. However, coming home for 2.5 hours uninterrupted work, housework, phonecalls etc was blissful. I can't deny it. I got soooo much done! She starts ballet next week (I'll be in therapy after that too..) so I will have Monday through Wednesday mornings to myself. I can scarce believe it. I won't know what to do with myself. But it makes me realise how all my aims for 2009 are linked - if I work hard and earn money, I can have my hair done (or go to beautician, or out for coffee, or shopping) on my own without putting on someone to look after my little girl. I'll feel good about myself. I'll feel as though I've made it. I want to use the wifi (we call it weefee in the country!) in the local deli and look important and savvy and sophisticated.

I want us to go on holiday - our first proper family holiday - before the baby comes in June. Just a week in Majorca or somewhere, cheap flights, warm seas and beaches, tapas.... mmmm... the feel of the sand on my feet.

And I'm going to be more positive - more positive about my marriage, my husband and our short comings. We're still here. Still together. Still got a spark even though it can be a bit explosive at times. We have our health. Enough money. A darling daughter. An unborn baby. A house. Food on the table. A future. Bring it on.

Crappy New Year

I never wanted my blog to become a shoulder to cry on for me; I’m usually good at keeping these things inside and dealing with them. But not tonight. Tonight it’s going to be my tear stained and slightly yellow pillow.. I’ve a glass of bubbly in front of me and it’s got the better of my tongue and fingers. Incurably loosened they need to release the pent up frustration within and blurt out what is on my mind. I know it sounds trivial but my husband and I had a row tonight. A big one. And it’s New Year. And I feel sick as a sick, homeless, stray stinking dog about it. It doesn’t matter what it’s about, it’s what it brings back that hurts so much. This time a year ago we had a really rough Christmas and New Year. It nearly ended us. We came this close to splitting up but battled through it with counselling, tears, arguments, compromises, promises, broken promises etc etc etc. It feels like it’s taken eleven months to get us back on track (and we’ve only been together three and a bit years – with a two and half year old daughter – you do the math) and it’s all been zapped in one fell swoop. One false word. One slammed door. Gone. All the work and trust and the fun times starting again. All over. From my side of things, I’ve worked fucking hard this year. I’ve got new work which is finally paying the bills and I’ve really tried – I mean REALLY tried so God damn hard to put my all into my marriage. When they say relationships are hard work I wanted to put the hours in, but I feel like I’ve been doing overtime in order for it to work – and we’d just got there. And now this. I’m scared to death that the memories conjured up out of this latest row will tip us over the edge. Words get bandied about – divorce, over, end. Words I used to hate on Dynasty and Dallas – not words that I thought would ever mean something to me in real life. And I said such horrid things and I hate myself. But so did he – yet I have apologised to him, but he doesn’t want to know… I’m so god damn upset about it. I’m sat down in the kitchen on the computer, while my husband watches 2008 highlights of motorbike racing – he doesn’t want to see me you see. So I’ll see in 2009 on the pc and skype – except that my internet is down so I’m writing this offline and have no live skype. As if things couldn’t get any worse! I hate feeling depressed, but I definitely do. I want to get shitfaced and smoke fags but I can’t – I’m pregnant. Now even the joy of that feels like a noose. Not that I begrudge my daughter and unborn child. In so many ways, it’d be easier just the three of us. But I want us to be a proper family – we have the possibility and my husband and I love each other so much. But we have this thing between us – I can’t describe it. It’s so destructive. I’m so scared of it. I pray we’ll get the better of it but I can never sit back and relax. Only today I was sitting in the car thinking how happy I was – now look at me. It might as well be another existence. Christ, all I wanted this year was NO STRESS. And so far it has been. But it’s all gone tits up tonight and there doesn’t seem to be anything I can do about it except blog. I do feel better for letting it out. I don’t feel I can’t talk to anyone on the phone about it. So whoever this reaches, thanks for listening. And I’m sorry to bang on selfishly. But here’s to you, good luck in 2009. Raise a glass – I’m going to. Alone.

Christmas Propaganda

This is my first Christmas as the mother of a toddler. It's quite a different ball game this year. The tree is a temptation beyond control, the sight of presents is too much to take. Chocolate is everywhere... on the tree, in the drawers, hidden in cupboards and on toddler un-friendly levels on the supermarket shelves. Trying to tell a 2 year old that they can only open one door of the advent calendar (non choc) each day is impossible. Telling them that they can't open any presents until Christmas day leads to tantrums and battles. So I resort to threats and bribes. I feel like the Mother Mafia, "If you don't behave yourself then Father Christmas won't bring you ANY presents!"... and so on. It led me to think that all these things - Father Christmas, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny etc etc were all invented to attempt to keen children on the straight and narrow. No wonder so many kids resort to crime - they've probably just realised that the basis of their childhood has been a lie. Mind you, so far it seems to be working so I'm going to stick with it. Bribes are brilliant and threats of no Santa are too much to risk. Hooray for make believe.

Exciting News!

I'M PREGNANT!!! (mental note to self - do not show this blog to my employees!) Tee hee! Well not until I have a water tight contract anyway.
We had the dating scan yesterday afternoon finally - I say finally because I was supposed to have it a fortnight ago but I have such a ghastly baby brain this time around, that I got the date wrong and missed my slot. I was devastated. Anyway, every cloud has a silver lining, because the baby was 2 weeks bigger and brighter and was in the mood to party yesterday. It waved and squirmed and wriggled and smiled beautifully for the photograph. I was quite overcome with emotion. When I had the first scan with my daughter she was asleep and looked much light a fuzzy black and white baked bean. So I was thrilled to see movement. My husband is convinced it's another girl. I think secretly he had been hoping for a boy.. someone to pass on his craze of motorbikes to.
So I'm 14 weeks today, and starting to show already. I don't think I looked anything other than thick (HATE that word, who invented the hideous expression - 'thickening of the waist'?) until about 5 months last time around. I'm eating for Britain, the Channel Islands and most of Europe. I should theoretically be obese. My boobs are VAST. Looks like it might be a bigger baby this time around. My daughter was a dinky 6lb 5oz. I like small babies though - they stay babies for longer I think.
I'm so excited that I will have two children who will grow up together. Friends for life, partners in crime, soulmates and co-conspirators. I'm already wondering how I will manage to get one child off to school, ballet etc while I have a newborn chomping at my boobs... but I'm sure things will work out fine. Just thought I'd share the news - I've been brimming for 2 months and finally can open the flood gates and tell everyone!

What Christmas means for working mothers

I'm finally getting into the Christmas spirit. The tree is up. My little girl has broken up from nursery (sounds terrifyingly grown up!). The stress is starting and the bank account is fucked to put it bluntly. And I've yet to sort a pub for our 'stress and cooking free' Christmas dinner. Once again it's money and pressure that has prompted me to post this. Although I'm excited about time off and my family being together, I'm terrified at the prospect of not earning for a few days - it always seems to leave a huge dent in the monthly pay cheque. I yearn for the days when you took 5 days paid holiday and got 2 weeks out of the office - care and stress free. One of my companies is being very generous in doing a special festive Christmas payment run so that we get paid before the 25th. I'm hugely grateful to them for it. It's a shame the other firms I work for didn't want to jump on the joyous bandwagon, but I can understand why. I feel the pressure to earn and keep earning is constantly on my back. If I don't, I always fall short the next month - I get stung for bank charges and find myself in the same situation only worse and more peeved the next month. January is a notoriously long and hard and desperate month... I'm just hoping that I've done, and I'm doing enough to ensure that we'll get through Christmas and have a decent cheque in 2009. Sorry to sound so negative but it's reality... I can see why some people dread Christmas. It is in some ways such a happy and giving time; and in others a worry and a necessary evil. I should look at the true meaning of Christmas and be thankful, and I am, I really am. But in modern times it's hard to see it as something other than a money guzzling nightmare.