The Human Bed Rail

Oh here I am! long time between words, you might say.  I’ve been saving them all for this one big one.

In all honesty, I’ve not wanted to jump on and rant and rave too much as my woes are kind of first world and in light of what’s happening around us, i figure the last thing folks want to read about is some heavily pregnant chic ranting and raving about a sore pelvis and the constant need to wee.

In saying that though, let’s talk about my sore pelvis and the constant urgent feeling of needing to wee – I call it my 2 step issue.  Simple, i take 2 steps and think that I my legs are going to fall out of their sockets and this baby is going to come crashing out, just with the lack of support and pain i feel down there – and then another 2 steps makes me feel like i’m literally going to pee my pants….  4 steps and my day is basically over.

I’ve been resting this week – supposed to be my last week at work…. I did one day, i guess that’s a big deal in some countries – don’t ask me about how productive that day was, it’s all relative.

I guess you could say we had a mini ‘baby-moon’ as the fancy people call it, over the weekend.  We went to Airlie Beach to celebrate a (beautiful) family wedding.  Stayed in some fancy digs and had a jolly old time, it was just lovely.  I did feel somewhat relaxed, especially in the spa the size of my main bathroom, and the GIANT king sized bed.  I have to admit though, i think i would have relaxed a little bit more had i not have been Billy’s very own human bed rail.  This bed felt bigger than a king (only because Jimmy and I have a Queen so anything bigger feels like paradise), and even though we did take down Billy’s big boy bed guard rail, thinking we were going to plonk him on one of the other beds we realised, it was a pick your battle moment and it would have been just as easier to plonk him on the GIANT bed with us, so at least it saves the argument of who would be getting up through the night when he realised he was asleep in a strange room.  So in the middle he slept.

Got off to a good start, he was smack bang in the middle…. Then i settled in to sleep and woke up when Jimmy came home from the wedding (heavily pregnant, sober with a toddler – there was never any point staying to the end)….  I realised then what was going to happen for the rest of the night, when I was being held hostage against the baby bed rail by Billy’s feet – he was horizontal and looked OH SO COMFORTABLE whilst I was completely pinned.  We fixed that. Turned him back to how he should be….  Went back to sleep.  Woke again at some point through the night with my usual urgency to pee and realised that any movement would have interrupted the snoring toddler who was basically on me, again with me being physically pinned against this rail.  I couldnt reach out to Jamie because as i mentioned, this big bed was the size of our bedroom – I needed a megaphone to get his attention (i am just thinking about the end of Titanic, HELLLOOOOO, IS THERE ANYBODY OUT THEEEEEEERE, CAN YOU HEEEEEAAAAAR ME). In a Mother Theresa move, i risked kidney infection and utter discomfort for the sake of not interrupting my kid and tried not to think about why i needed to get up and suffered it out.

Thank goodness for the bed rail, is all i can say. Otherwise, i am sure he would have sent me packing with a pillow to the floor.  See ya Mum!

That was the story for both the nights, but it didnt affect my time in the house and it was a beautiful weekend away.

On another sleeping note relating to said (adoreable) toddler though.  He’s been a bit restless of late with teeth coming and being teased with the comfort of sleeping with the folks that since we have been back he’s wanted to come and hang out in the somewhat smaller bed with us.  I am in no phyical condition to walk him back to his room so I settle with him crashing with us, probably creating a monster but at this point lets roll with this monster and try and tame that beast later on.  Anyway, last night was no exception.  He came in at midnight.  I am pretty sure he came in with ants in his pants because he.would.not.stop.moving! Far out, i think i called him a name (I told him to stop being a dickhead at about 3am …. then apologised because obviously that’s no way to speak to a kid – but it was a little frustrating to save the VERY least).

A weird thing happened though.  Thanks to my Peter Alexander PJ pants that are super baggy (show me a sexy pair of Peter Alexander PJs – i bet you can’t) and held up by a drawstring.  I woke up, on my side, against the side of the bed (no bed rail in sight mind you), with my Son’s legs inside my baggy pants with me!! WHAT THE FECK!!!????  That’s spooning on another level!  I felt like a jungle animal carrying it’s babies on the front and back…

Then after pushing him OUT of my pj pants – later i woke to him trying to get back in them and my KNICKERS!!! GET OUT!!!!!  I told Jamie in the morning, and he’s like “pffft…. well, he was never getting into your knickers – I’ve tried – that’s not even possible”…. (Um… Jamie, that’s what got me into writing this blog, actually)…..  What’s with that though little Bill? Get out of Mummy’s pants please! Far out!

Needless to say, we were all very tired this morning and I just happened to take the day off work (again), to spend some recoup time on the comfy couch….

SO.  We are 35 and a bit weeks along now (OH JEEPERS CREEPERS – THAT’S 8 MONTHS), and given i was away for the weekend and there was a full length mirror with no messy bedroom setting behind me, i thought I would take the 2nd gut shot of the pregnancy)…  Not sure that we will be staying at any other fancy places with full length mirrors, so it might be the last….. 2 is better than none though little (big) baby – at least Mummy took 2.

Here I am in all my pregnant glory ….


I am very pleased to say too, I still have some ankle definition…. Perhaps in my next post to the world I will track down a picture of the horror stories that were my feet when I was pregnant with Billy.  I think only the pictures will provide a true representation of the state I found myself in.  If I am going to be grateful for one thing – it’s the fact that I don’t have pressure dimples on the bottoms of my feet, even when i am NOT standing on them……

There is less and less room for this baby to move around though, so any movement I am becoming distracted.  One trait i have, which is not always good is I don’t always know how to hide my facial emotions.  This becomes evident in meetings and other social situations, when my little belly mate moves around and my eyes and face show that I am FREAKING out that s/he is about to burst out through the gut like the scene in one of the Alien movies….  Pretty sure my face is similar to Sigourney Weaver’s flawless look of terror…..


Obviously, we all know (at the very least hope), this baby won’t burst out, but I’ve been dreaming alot about literally shaking it’s hand through my skin – there is seriously no room to move!!!

I pulled my favorite move on my sister again over the weekend (you know it Nat), so sweet and naive she is, I would have expected the shock of the first time around when i fooled her she wouldn’t fall for it again.  See, i have what i like to refer to it as a ‘coco-pop mole’ (it resembles a soggy coco-pop which i have to admit i have been fooled by over the years, thinking I’d spilt my breakfast on my gut and going to eat it, only to find that it was in fact connected to my body – rookie error)… So I grab for the coco-pop with a look of awe and say “oh my goodness, I can feel the baby’s toe!”, the first time around I managed to fool a room full of people – OH THE JOY it bought me….

I got Nat again with it and had her moving “the baby’s toe” around for a good 30 seconds before she paused and said “that’s the mole, isn’t it”. OH YES MA’AM IT IS!!!!  BAAAAAHAHHAHAHA – oooooh goodness! Who needs alcohol when you have a coco-pop mole i say!!!

Seriously though, every movement from this bubba is causing my stomach to distort in the most uncomfortable of ways…. I’ve managed to capture some classic movements for you…..

Here’s a foot shot (i know right, how tanned do I look)…


Oh here’s another foot shot..  (so defined)…


Oh and this one right here – this is better than any 3D shot I’ve ever had at QLD Xray – this is my bubba when we heard QLD won state of origin (again)…


This baby totally has my noes!!  Oh and yeah, check out that bling….

God I love the internet!

Anyway, I shall leave it at that for the moment.  I’ve had fun, that’s the main thing hey!

I read this week that at 35 weeks this baby is the size of a bunch of carrots, it took everything for me not to go to the vegetable draw and pull out the carrots to give them a little nurse…. I really have to get used to a light weight baby, Billy is over 15kgs and I am scared the new bubba will be too light!!!

I’m going now – but of course, check out the growing hand that is my little baby tracker.  Nearly colored in the whole area – NOT LONG TO GO!!!!



Back on the sticks…

Oh good day to you!

I’ve not been able to chat of late because of a few factors – main one being that I forgot my login password (I’d like to take this opportunity to use the Pregnancy Brain card please, Eddie – lock it in)…

Other factors include increased whinging and moaning bought on by a weeks worth of head cold action and then a further week of the gastro virus – i know right! How dare i not share these horrific details with you….!

No no, i thought it best to lay off the words whilst I was using so many F words at the time.

You’re welcome guys.

I’ve just been told that I am at about the 32 week mark at this point (have to check my app which tells me these things), and according to this app this tiny human is about the size of a florida pomelo….

What the fk is a florida pomelo, I hear you say? Glad you asked

It’s this:


That’s not me by the way, but I am glad that the demonstrated fruit is now starting to represent the size of my gut – going by the tightening of my clothes i would say the pomelo in my stomach is likened to a SUPER BIG ONE on steroids.

If my baby was born today, it would look like this:

pomelo head cat-769467.0

NAH, Just kidding! (thanks google images for a lifetime of giggles by the way).

So, with my latest growth spurt (outwards, not upwards), the pressure in my pelvic region has grown with it and the pain is back with a vengeance.  I enjoyed those pain free weeks, but I knew in my heart it was only temporary.  I’ve since given up the imaginary skipping and sand running and gone back to picturing swimming in a bath filled with pain killers.

A colleague had a giggle today and said “hahaha wouldn’t it be funny if they strapped all your belly from the bottom up to try and lift the weight”…. Ummm… that’s actually what they’ve done…  It feels as though i have a human abseiling down my body and has let go of too much of the rope and almost hanging upside down… (that totally made more sense in my head by the way)…. So anyway, back to the walking sticks we go.

We are on the home stretch now though, that being officially 8 weeks to go ….. wait…. EIGHT WEEKS? NOOOOOOOOOOO! That actually feels like a life time and i honestly don’t think my skin has any more stretching capacity in it….

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about food/snacks that contain a LOT of sugar, too much for a human if i’m honest… I’ve even been thinking a lot about drinking soft-drink – which is usually a no go zone but it’s happened….. This means i’m about to fill out more and go to a BIGGURL status!  Time to cut back on pie purchases, even though i now have a good relationship with the pie clerk (totally her official title), and she’s basically given me a gold membership to their chunky beef pies….  she stamps the shit out of my ‘reward’ card (as in those cards they give out to entice you to come back 10 times to get a freebie), I must go in looking poor because she slaps on 3 extra stamps every time and I’m benefiting from this with a free pie every 4 days or so, perhaps she’s a Feeder of sorts…. not sure, but I keep going back….  Sometimes I find myself driving in a complete opposite direction so as not to have my car drive me into the car park of said pie shop – it’s the car, not my lack of self control….

I am booking in for a c-section next week and my Chiropractor has advised me to really emphasis the discomfort (“cry if you think it will give you a couple of weeks off the date”)…. I don’t really think i have to try too hard to ’emphasising’ the shitness of it all, but if i don’t see that they are convinced I’ll be crying alright.  Even if i can get in a week or 2 earlier, that should be ok.

This little person has now taken to using my bladder as a trampoline, and doing it’s little jumps in the most awkward situations for me.  I was doing the grocery shopping on the weekend, minding my own business, when all of a sudden the baby did what seemed to be a triple somersault with a flawless land right on top of my bladder, at the point of impact i just had to stand there with what i can only imagine to be a drained look on my face wondering if it was at that very moment that I wet myself in the middle of aisle 3 in Woollies.  That would have been a first (for me, i’m sure it’s happened before).  I wasn’t concerned about the loss of dignity that would have come with that – i lost that a long time ago when Billy graduated to coming to the toilet with me, it was just the idea of having to notify a stranger that there was a ‘mess in aisle 3’ – can just imagine the PA blast “CLEAN UP AISLE 3 – HEAVILY PREGNANT WOMAN PEED HER PANTS AND IS BLAMING THE BABY, CLEAN UP AISLE 3”.  And what would i say? Do i tell a fib and say my waters broke? what next though, would I be rushed to hospital in fake labour??? So many factors to consider, this is why i am a terrible fibber in general….  I would have just said “um…. please don’t walk in my piss – here i’ll pass you the weetbix you want…”

It was at that point that I decided I needed to get home ASAP, and from this point forward, either Jim can do the shopping or it’s done online.  EEEK!

Anyway, enough of this.  I’ve got to get my little fella from day care, who I might add, seems to know there’s something happening to his mum’s belly – and i think it’s more than “gee, mum’s packing on the weight lately”.  He doesn’t let Jim touch my gut, and if i lift my shirt up and say “Billy, look at mummy’s tummy there’s a baby” he’ll stop what he’s doing, storm over and pull my shirt down, even going to the point of tucking it into my pants.  Hilarious to watch…!

He did the opposite to his Nanna the other day though, lifted her shirt up and said Beebee….. oh no, Son!

With the official count down really on, and now that I’ve finished the uni semester i should really consider making a move on this baby’s room….  Maybe I’ll start this weekend….. Maybe.

As always, check the size of my little mate’s hand – there’s almost no more growing to be done – it feels like only yesterday that you had to squint to make out the pink dot……





Let me just bask in this feeling of painless delight – even if it only lasts a short time, I’m rolling around in it like it’s a bathtub full of hundred dollar bills!

I feel as though i went into one of those dramatic church scenes where JESUS CURED ME…. If Jesus is the wonderful chiropractor I saw, than I LOVE JESUS (and her wonderful work she did on my broken body, she has a name if anyone wants to know, PM me and I’ll shout it to the roof tops, cannot recommend her enough to fragile pregnant ladies).  I am actually tap dancing in my head it’s that amazing.

Funny story actually, anyone who reads my Facebook posts would have read last week that I had to fill out some details for this magician chiropractor, under the question “what eases the pain” i cheekily wrote NETFLIX AND CHILL (and when i mean cheeky, i just thought watching TV on the couch was the only thing i should be doing to ease the pain).  I did not know, until my Manager explained it to me between cacking himself laughing and searching through Urban Dictionary to show me the true meaning of the term:
(Excuse the naughty words)


code for two people going to each others houses and fucking or doing other sexual related acts
Brad: “Hey Julia wanna come over and watch Netflix and chill”
Julia: “Sure I’ll pick up the condoms
Brad: “Wait I thought we were just gonna watch Netflix and chill?”
Julia: “Netflix and Chill means we fuck, dumbass
Seems I am not the only one to mistake the concept for something a little more innocent (I do believe even the leader of our great country was caught out with it recently) but I was somewhat mortified because this place I go to is full of very lovely people and I didn’t want them thinking “she’s back – no wonder she’s not getting any better, with all that Netflix and chilling” – so I sheepishly called the receptionist and explained that I really just mean I like to sit on the couch… Turns out she didn’t know what it meant, so then I had to break it down for her in a PG explanation – she laughed very hard.  Glad I could bring joy to the lives of others.
So I am pain free in the nether regions!!! YIPEEE!! That doesn’t mean i stop whining though.  Nope, apparently it’s not time for me to be 100% cleared of WOE’s.  Billy saw what was happening, that Mummy was starting to feel terrific and decided to sneeze and cough and splutter in my face and share with me his disgusting head cold.  Thanks Son, so grateful for your gifts.  So yesterday when I went into the chiropractor with my face running (nose and eyes), I had to lay face down for her to do her thang and when i got up embarrassingly had to acknowledge the wet patch(es) on the face bit… .awkward – got a tissue?
We are 28 weeks in, into the 3rd trimester and I am thinking I should really make a start on this new baby’s bedroom – at the moment s/he will be sleeping on the floor in the office/hide-the-shit room…. I guess there’s enough space to accommodate the tiny figure, but I know how fast those babies grow – best get onto it.  It made me think though, we have a bookshelf filled top to bottom with books I’ve read. WHY ARE WE SAVING BOOKS? I’ve never considered this until now.  I’m never going to read them again, why have we kept them – here we come vinnies!
Anyway, since I’ve been away from work for a couple of days I should get back into it and make my moneys worth of productivity.
Obviously before you leave you’ve got to reach out and whack my baby’s growing paw – how big is it getting!!!

The 4 legged lady…

Dear Diary (again),

I went to the beautiful city of Sydney for a course last week.  It was nice to break away from the crazy routines of home and get some uninterrupted sleep for a few nights (sorry Jim, but it really was great).  I went everywhere on my 4 legs (2 x crutches and 2 x actual human legs), so for a solid 4 days or so i bore no weight on my ailing pelvis.  This was great, because the next few days afterwards I had little pain and discomfort – I even had an imaginary run – I felt that good. Now that I’ve been back to reality for a few days, sad to say my pelvis has gone back to smoking crack and lazing around everywhere again – I get it, being off my feet will help this process along, but my dear little mate Billy just doesn’t want to hear that rubbish! So the pain stays.

I will say though, I flew Qantas down and back, with a short stay-over in Brisbane, there is a reason why Qantas wins awards for their quality service – it was excellent and I am considering getting myself a pair of collapsible crutches or a walking cane for when I next travel in full health.  I was escorted on a people mover (you know the little buggies that beep you out of the way when you are strolling the hallways of the airport between flights) from one gate to the next and had VIP service (ok, nothing first class) by boarding first and I was even tempted to take up their offer of a wheelchair to the baggage area but I thought that was pushing it a little too hard.  I’m actually not bad on the crutches, I set a pretty decent pace. The folks were on the return flight so I managed to score them a seat on the buggy also – the crew were asking if Mum and Dad wanted wheelchair assistance for when they got off the plane – I am half certain Dad was considering the option (he is very able body for the record), I had to pull him up and say “they are with me” and gave a nod to my crutches – whoa guys, nobody steal this pregnant woman’s thunder hey!  So an enthusiastic high five to the Qantas team.

I was staying in Chatswood and catching a train to North Sydney to go to this course, that was ok – except for the somewhat steep hill I had to lug the body up to get to the building. On the second morning I needed to get there at about 7:30 or so, I got in to North Sydney with plenty of time to spare to be on time… if I was walking…. Got into the room about 15 minutes late.  The trainer (who wasn’t the best human I’ve ever met, if I am honest), looked over and said “train running late or something?”, I took a breath and said “nope – just took my time” – dickhead – now fetch me a coffee!

I did surprise myself when i hit a bird (calm down animal activists, it was a pigeon – the world could probably do with less of them). I was crossing a main intersection to get to class and i saw the bird, it was also on the intersection – I assumed it was going to move as I headed towards it and didn’t bother veering my path of direction…. Not sure whether it was drunk, or territorial or just simply not familiar with the peculiar shape of the pregnant four legged lady, crossing the road – or possibly a bit of everything, but I nearly fell over laughing when i actually struck it with a subtle swing of my stick (the swing was not I deliberate swing at the bird, I was simply travelling to get to my destination). Didn’t kill it, so a bonus for the bird population but certainly gave it something to think about.  I wonder what the people waiting for me to cross thought of the scene – I would have loved to have seen it in slow motion, over and over again.

As I mentioned earlier, when I am on a roll I seem to get quite a decent pace happening and when I was heading back to the train station one day I ankle tapped another pedestrian – they turned around in shock and I had to reluctantly apologize, just because it seemed to be the right thing to do at the time, but come on people, let’s not dawdle – move along!!

In my travels to and fro I passed other people using ‘the sticks’ and we gave each other a knowing nod as if to say “well done” or “you’re doing great” or “hey, nice sticks”, or whatever it was our nods were saying…. I wanted to ask one person for a race but let’s face it, it’s Sydney – you don’t make eye contact in Sydney…..

Since I’ve been seeing a physio on a weekly lately to get some pelvic relief, I was in the waiting room one day and got to thinking about why I might be having this pain. Sure, I know I am not the only one, and it is very common in pregnancy – the hormone relaxant flows through the body to loosen the areas preparing for birth etc etc – or that’s the short version of my interpretation anyway. I appear to be releasing TOO much of the stuff and my pelvis is basically chooffing down on a doobie and is quite stoned and too relaxed to care about carrying my extra weight and basically giving my pain threshold the finger (again, my interpretation of the big words).  But I asked my lovely physio if the fact that I jumped back into running/jogging soon after I had Billy, knowing now that I had this same issue in the last pregnancy.  The answer was QUITE POSSIBLY.

I remember now. After a c-section you are told to wait about for 6 weeks to recover from the ‘procedure’ before being able to do exercise or anything really.  That’s basically all you hear, if they told me anymore I wouldn’t have remembered.  I did just that though, on the 6th or 7th week I thought I would break into a run on the VERY FIRST chance i could get – this is after I had almost an entire 40 weeks of NO running because I was too damned exhausted to even walk.  What a hero I was.  I knew that night that it was probably the worst decision I had made – I was very uncomfortable with pain.  In hindsight, there was no need to run, when I could have easily taken myself on a brisk walk and that would have been just as sufficient and less torturous.  I continued to do so anyway.

Anyway, the Physio explained that running post c-section is probably more suitable after about 9-12 months after the operation (depending on recovery times)… pfft that seems a long time…. I get it now…. I won’t be climbing back on that running donkey so soon this time and will actually rehabilitate myself.

Just whilst we are on the topic of being sliced and diced to get to the baby – it really isn’t just a basic procedure = get your head around this:

  • The doc makes an incision into your skin, through the fat cells, connective tissue, and into the abdominal cavity;
  • The abdominal muscles are then spread apart;
  • The bladder is moved down and out of the way in order to get to the uterus;
  • There is an incision made into the uterus and the baby is guided out;
  • The placenta is taken out shortly after;
  • The uterus is then stitched up;
  • The bladder put back in place;
  • Then connective tissue, the abdominal, and the skin stitched up, to varying degrees.

(picture added for special effects)



A bit gruesome, sure but I think people forget about how major it can get to get that precious child out – whether elective or because of labor complications (which was the case for me with Billy). When I go through that list, I have to admit I don’t even know if I knew all the details, maybe I shouldn’t have looked it up even now.  Why on earth would I have thought 6 weeks be enough time to heal ALL the parts of my body and be ready for a vigorous run.  Silly Rabbit.

In saying all that, in my current state we are considering elective c-section…. watch this space for more gruesome shit.

Anyway, just an update on my gut situation I can no longer hide behind my fluros at work and needed to get some shirts, for home also because I was still hanging out in singlets what were probably too small for me when I wasn’t carrying around a basketball belly.  My guts were just hanging out proudly like I was on some houseo show, Jim is no doubt happy about not having to see it all out and about now… You’re welcome, man!

This is my first gut shot for the pregnancy – might take another in a few weeks if I can remember to clean my room so that the reflection of clothes and an unmade bed don’t show up in the background – that just sets a bad example for the kids later when they are looking at these photos “well Mum, it was good for you, it’s good for us not to clean it”….

Here is the gut shot….


I shall leave it at that for the moment as I have to go and get my little fella, It’s been a nice chat (to myself).

Before I go though, as always – give this little pink-handed bubba a high five – apparently s/he’s the size of a bunch of bananas….. A MASSIVE bunch by the size of my stomach – possibly even a few bunches together…..


Like a bull in a china shop…

Well hello there fellow readers of my moan and groan blog – great to see you’ve been suckered in to read another one. Welcome back!

These last few weeks have been somewhat trying.  I’ve now gone and got myself some lovely looking crutches to draw more attention to the fact that I’ve been beaten with the troublesome pregnancy stick.  They are to use through the day to try and take the pressure off my pelvis area (since I’ve been told it is in fact not improving and actually getting worse – oh goodie!).  I leave them in the car in the afternoon as it’s not like I can play this injury card to the 18month old at home – he don’t care, “just pick me up lady”!

My latest explanation which is making people run for the hills after they ask the question of “what have you done to yourself”, is simply “I had sex”…. I mean, it’s true – that’s how you get pregnant guys (spoiler alert), the looks are wonderful and the silence thereafter is hilarious.  I also told one colleague to “move out of my way or I’ll throw my crutch at you” today.  I’m sure I’ll get some kind of sexual harassment form thrown my way soon, but look – i don’t care – bring it, I’m clearly disabled, pregnant and a woman – pffft – talk about protected!

(DISCLAIMER: please let it be known, I am only joking – I am sure I will lose any sexual harassment case with the amount of street talk I’ve been throwing out there lately – but don’t sue me, I’m simply just frustrated and lacking endorphins).

Speaking of my 18 month old, I am loving the shiz out of my cute kid lately (as opposed to nothing – I am ALWAYS loving the shiz out of him).  He’s learning stuff every day, and owning it like he’s always done it that way.

We’ve got him in his big boy bed which has been pretty smooth sailing thus far.  Not going to lie, I miss the cage effect the cot had where he couldn’t actually get out and be defiant about sleep time but I’m sure we’ll get there.

Last night though he wasn’t having a bar of this “sleep in your own bed” business, he was not impressed. So, after a few attempts of putting him back and leaving him there and then taking him back when he would come out to where we were I went in a laid with him.  This kid was tired – his eyes were fighting to stay awake and every few seconds he would open them to see that I was still there.  I know to wait until the 2nd stage snoring kicks in before even attempting to move off the bed (1st stage is a light heavy breathing noise – 2nd stage is a road train noise).  That kicked in after a while so I thought I would make my move.

This little trickster Billy is smart though, he tends to interlock either an arm or a leg around one of my limbs (arm, leg or even neck – much like a choke hold), so I had to gently unwind from him. Got that done, but then I had to shuffle off the bed in a way that wouldn’t make movement or noise – meaning ‘gracefully’.  There is nothing graceful about me, people! I have a basketball in the front and a pelvis and hips that currently don’t allow smooth movements….

How i wanted it to go down was the like the laser scene in the movie Entrapment (you know, Katherine Zeta Jones dodging all the laser to get to the loot), how it really went down was more like a bull in a china shop.

entrapment  -V-  bull

I dragged my body to the edge of the bed without waking him. Pushing my self up so as not to hurt myself any further (because moving hurts) was the next step, and this is where it began to unravel – the creak and moan of the bed as i lifted my weight off was enough to stir my favorite little man (i guess that makes it sound like i weigh about 200kg – I don’t, even though some days I feel like it)…… He rolled over and tried to resettle but the road train snoring went back to heavy breathing so I was in dangerous territory, so i crept/limped over to the door to make my final exit move when I realized (as i do EVERY BED TIME) that we need to really oil our squeaky doors – BOOM Billy was WIDE AWAKE with the loud screech of the door, looking at me like I was some fool for trying to escape. I felt as though I was getting busted red handed for breaking out of prison.  So, I had to start the process again.

I thought I had been successful with the 2nd attempt (about 40 minutes later), and was in bed when I heard jimmy (who was on his way to bed) say “what are you doing out here, little mate” – Billy had quietly exited his bed (no doubt Katherine Zeta Jones style), went into the lounge room and was just hanging out on the couch in the dark…. What a trickster.

We let him fall to sleep in our bed and then I took him back and dumped his sleeping body back into his bed.  Thanks for letting us sleep in this morning buddy, such a big night for you!

Another funny thing that I am HOPING is not a habit is that he came with me to the toilet the other day.  He wasn’t going mind you, no no – it was me.  I know that i signed away my freedom to privacy the day he started to become mobile but this was something else. I was doing my business, trying not to make eye contact because that’s a bit weird, when he got scared of a noise outside (it was the early hours of the morning and it was my turn to do the morning duty and Jamie’s turn to sleep-in *a sleep-in is not having to wake up before 5am*, so Billy spending quality time with me in the little room was really the only option) and he proceeded to climb onto my lap….mid business…. um…. ok…. he seemed comfortable and my comfort no longer counts so I just rolled with it, but I was thinking about down the track when there will be 2 of them…. does that happen – 2 kids perched on your lap whilst you pay a penny??  Some food for thought, i guess.  Then he helped me handle the toilet paper – HE DIDN’T WIPE GUYS, GET YOUR MIND OUT OF IT…. He seemed to be proud of handing me a square at a time…  On ya Son!

Gosh I love him!

Oh and although he doesn’t yet get the concept that Mummy is storing his new sibling in her belly, there was a (rare) moment on the weekend where he was sitting still with his head resting on my belly.  The baby kicked him square in the face and he shot up and looked at me like I had done it…. it was fkg hilarious but I probably won’t be able to repeat it again because he wouldn’t go near my gut after that.

AHHHH GOOD TIMES!  I cannot wait for August!

I found this link of another blogger who suffered the same thing as I am currently going through – she also mentions the feeling of being kicked down there…. so it’s just not me talking about my lady bits – it’s a fact!

Anyway, that’s it for me – I have to go and do some writing that will actually get me closer to getting my degree and work on an assignment – this is a prime example of procrastination….

But before you go, don’t forget to high five my little belly friend….  Check out the size of that hand WHOA!


Ps. I STILL have not taken a pregnancy belly shot… oops… I might start soon, get at least 3 in before August… just in case the question pops up in later years “Mummy, how come there are all these gut shots when you carried Billy and none of me”.  Well kid, that’s because you were 2nd…..!

Well punch me in the vagina!!!

Dear diary, long time between chats but I have made a silent vow that if I am in no mood to type semi-positive or interesting shit, i will not post.

You might have heard me mention my vagina earlier – yes you did – don’t look away.

I have a constant feeling in my groin area equal to feeling like I’ve been sucker punched in my bits – there and my bum, my hip and lower back and whilst i was getting bashed someone pulled my leg out of it’s socket and let it dangle there until it fell off completely.

Hurts to walk, sit, lift, get out of bed, get into bed, get in and out of the car, just LIVE basically, so I am just a barrel laughs and good times to be around at the moment… YEAH!

Yes for those medically minded people (or to the people who have experienced said pain) I have what has now been officially diagnosed by both doctor and physio Symphysis pubis dysfunction (SPD).

Wikipedia will tell you SPD is a condition that causes excessive movement of the pubic symphysis, either anterior or lateral, as well as associated pain, possibly because of a misalignment of the pelvis. Most commonly associated with pregnancy and childbirth, it is diagnosed in approximately 1 in 300 pregnancies, although some estimates of incidence are as high as 1 in 50.[1]

I will tell you right here and now that this shit is fucked – with a capital F! Pretty sure i suffered the same carrying Billy, but nothing to the extreme i am currently experiencing and at last count i am only at the 23 week mark… quick check on my trusty calc tells me i still have 17 weeks left of bearing this (beautiful) human – GAAAWWWWWWWD HELP ME AND THOSE WHO HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME.

Give me kankles any day (over this, not as well as)…

I have a band that i have to wear around my hips/bum, that will help with the pain and support but i can’t wear it in current angry and inflamed condition and have even been strongly recommended to don a pair of crutches to get the eff off my feet…. I didn’t want to be a NO girl to the kind physio but I have seen me on crutches, i also work in the profession of SAFETY – it’s a hazard – for everyone… it’s similar to me trying to control skis in the water – looks simple – it’s not… and then what? i dislocate my shoulders trying to carry the weight of my growing body and then i am properly disabled….. OH MY GOODNESS NO!  We will see about this..

Anyway, that’s been enough to keep me distracted from a lot lately.  My rage has been tested over the past few weeks, tried and tested and I am not sure for the most part that I even have liked myself if I’m honest.

Thursday night i was in the most peaceful sleep – i had just got to that comfortable spot in the sleep cycle that I wasn’t coming out of any time soon, that was until i heard dirt bikes going up and down the street outside of my bedroom window – that’ll wake any heavy sleeper up….. Awake and ready to kill I was…. By the time i ran (note my symptoms listed above, they were present at this time of night – which increased said rage) to the window they had long sped off….. off to sleep i went again, thinking perhaps it was one off and no one in my neighborhood would be that stupid and inconsiderate….  Oh how wrong i was….  They came back and went again and on the third time I was on the phone to the police like a mental patient pleading with them to come and save these hooligans from the wrath of the heavily pregnant (by that what I mean is i am heavy and pregnant, so it is by no means an exaggeration) lady who doesn’t want her 18 month old son woken up….

Not sure how serious they took me and then the next i heard the bikes go again at 2:30am BRRRRRRRRRRRR – back on the phone , with Jamie yelling out that he was going to make the bikes disappear up their you-know-whats…. I was a lot more articulate with what might have happened to these dickheads if they continued with the noise any longer – i told the lovely lady on the other end that i was genuinely concerned for their well being if they woke my son up…i fell short of going into too much description so as not to get myself locked up.  Needless to say, the police eventually did a drive by and we didn’t hear the bikes again until the morning…. Fancy messing with me in my nightie pffft…

I was actually going to kill them….

But that’s all i can babble about for the moment, my tiny human is approximately the size of a delicious bunch of green grapes – i don’t like these types of descriptions though, is it a bunch that just got to the grocery trolley – before the obligatory quality assurance/taste test throughout the whole shopping centre – or is it a bunch that make it through the checkouts with only about 4 grapes left on each stem….  Let’s just imagine it’s a healthy big bunch still sitting in the bay….

HEY! Check out how big my little mate’s hand is!!! It’s getting biiiiiggggerrr (just like mummy)….




What a wreck!!

So hello to you!  It’s been a couple of weeks between thoughts…. what a time to be alive though, especially living beside me.  I didn’t experience crazy emotion like this when i was pregnant with Billy until about the last couple of weeks of carrying him (where i went psychotic at dear husband for not mowing the grass. In hindsight it was drought dry and there really was not a lot of ‘grass’ to mow…. doesn’t matter – no 39 week pregnant lady should be rage mowing in the middle of the day and then losing her shit because it runs out of petrol) …. this last week gone I’ve lost it in front of people on 2 embarrassing occasions over really not much at all….  GOOOD TIMES…. and we are only just under half way.  Tread lightly people….

Also, feeling the ‘throb’ more often now (i automatically take myself to the gutter when i say that, and giggle to myself – so so childish)…. the ankles at the end of my days are very cushioned with a lot of fluid padding.  Just waiting for them to be around the clock kankles so that i can justify my slipper shoes and compression socks.

Positives: hmmm …. I am feeling flutter kicks which is cute, it’s nice to know there’s a little being in there having a spin and turn – i’ll enjoy it whilst there is still a bit of space and it’s not so obvious to the naked eye. . . and my brain is only slightly mushed, so i still have the capacity to function and hold a conversation before going off on a distracted thought digression, that’s more of a bonus for everyone who has to talk to me really.

The crazy dreams and imagination are running hot.  Last night i accidentally fell to sleep on the couch mid channel surfing, i woke up to the loudest THUD at the screen door. Scared the crap out of me! My initial reaction was to scream GET THE FK OUT, it seems to be the standard sentence when i get so scared, hopefully if it was a person they got the hint quick smart – it might have been a bird running into the screen (at 8:30pm??) or anything as random… Anyway, I was scared and not brave enough to actually go outside and investigate (although, it might have scared off any intruders with the sight of me – a wife beater and a pair of jocks – the go-to bed wear at the moment)…. Anywho, i did a triple check of all the doors and took myself to bed, and subsequently layed there like a scared 12 year old, flinching at and exaggerating any noise – needless to say i went to sleep restless…..  The next time i woke up was to the Tree-Arm that was slithering through a hole in the window – i woke up to myself throwing the control at it and telling it once more the GET THE FK OUT…. perhaps i need to change my words up as it seems to be getting old…. It’s loud enough that it hurts my throat and the control hitting the window really scared the ‘thing’ off….. Glad Jim wasn’t asleep next to me for that one, he’s a little over having to fight of these imaginary intruders…. pffft… he thinks it’s exhausting – what about me!!!

Don’t forget to highfive the rad little pink hand… it’s getting bigger!!