Waddle-Wiggle-Wink-Fest

 

Good afternoony my delightful wiggles of  ‘Wa-woo-wee,’ hope ya well, hope your life is all a sizzle and especially hope you’re managing to kick the negatory out of your lives, whop on that extra bit of lippy and strut to the merry sound of fabulousity. Today could’ve gone two ways for me…i could’ved opted for the moany verison of myself, who is still devastatingly fabulous, yet a little more high strung. OR I could’ve felt the grumbliness, shook it off and got on with being more positive. I chose to put a smile on my preggo face and simply because if i don’t…i’ll crumble. *Waddle-waddle-wink.* The only thing that placed me in a more than good mood was waking up to Baby Ruby. She is BEAUTIFUL. I mean, when i opened my eyes and saw her juicy almond eyes glaring back at me with a smile, i knew life wasn’t so hideous after all. I’m really lucky to have her. Then my *Bump* decided to kick the living shits out of me out of jealousy. Fun innit. I’m now quite creepy because I can stand and have a normal, decent conversation with a someone and out of nowhere have a giant elbow retreat from my belly, like an alien and shrug it off with an ‘oh well, shit happens.’ *Sips imaginary Malibu pineapple* (I’m sooo craving one because they remind me of holidays. In LA I used to order them all the time. In fact i ordered them so much that everyone I knew began ordering them too, and well i could walk into The Abbey in West Hollywood and have one waiting for me, ready to be freshly sipped by my kitty catty lippies, as soon as i tottered in. I remember that I once ordered an orange juice and the waiter Jamie…just looked into my eyes and said, ‘NO WAY! YOU’RE NOW DEAD TO ME.’ :)) I feel like pregnancy this time around has really restricted me from fun, fun, fun, so i’m having to hold onto the reins and keep my cool, whilst deep breathing in order to not rebel and completely lose my mind once i’m free of waddling. *Breathe here.* Don’t get me wrong, i ADORE the fact that i’ll have a son part, yet the 9 months of pregnancy that a chica has to go through in order to get to that finish line, which is a hideous amount of pain, is rubbish. I don’t like pregnancy at all now. The first time around it was brilliant, because I felt really happy and whole and cared for. Life was easy. Ruby was a preggo breeze.  This time around it’s been horrifical. Lovely! Lovely! *Downs imaginary gin*

Okay, so i’ve decided that I don’t like cooking at all when pregnant and i’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t have to do it for the next 8 weeks. I mean, my hubby should respect that i don’t feel like standing up and slaving away behind a stove for an hour to cook for him, when i have a human living in my belly. (He doesn’t get it.) Yesterday i made a really crappy lunch and i think as long as i despise cooking, my lunches will always be crappy because you do actually have to love doing something in order to do it well. Be it boys, bacon butties, parenting or…well i’ll let you fill in the blanks.

Luckily and like The God had answered my prayer, something briefly terribly happened and after making my rubbish pasta meal, i accidentally left the gas running out the stove and had no clue. Apparently it’s deathly and can end up killing people. I smelt nothing and felt nothing. Yet Keiran said he could smell something, then he could taste fuel, followed by the dramatics of having hurty eyes, a headache and a racing heart. He had more symptoms of dying from accidental gas poisioning once he realized the gas has been left on. 🙂

He turned it off immediately and opened the doors to air it out, which I appreciate as of course I’m a Mummy and if anything happened to Baby Ruby (who wasn’t home at this point, my heart would be broken) so i’m glad he found it and saved us. Yet the dramatics of it were hilarious. So, i managed to turn the hideous accident into a positive, whilst he was telling me how his heart was racing from death and stated that it was an obvious sign from God that I shouldn’t have to cook anymore because i’m dangerous. You’d think he’d agree…but no, he didn’t like it one bit. But I believe in SAFETY FIRST now, 🙂 so yeah, that’s me out of the kitchen for a while, as i’d hate for something like that to happen again. 🙂 *Wiggle-wink* When i become a ‘Real Housewives’ housewife, then i’ll decide to cook dinners and do chores, because my husband will then be bringing home millions that i’m grateful for. However, until then…no cooking love. If I make the millions…which I would very much enjoy…then i’m hiring a chef.

If anything i need to make sure I remember not to watch ‘Teen Mom.’ I love the show, yet when you’re pregnant you fool yourself into believing that you ARE a struggling, teenager with a newborn…with various bits of love life drama, instead of a 32 year old stable mum with a happy 2 year old and loving husband. I absorbed it like a champion yesterday and well it made me think of parenting and the way people raise their children. Of course, each and every parent has the right to bring up their child the way they themselves see fit, provided they aren’t abusing them. yet, i don’t get why parents who are 20 something, if not more years older than their tiny kiddie, that they created out of love have no patience for them? How can someone with the developed brain of a 2 year old or 4 year old out wit them and frustrate them? Lol

Like you see these women in town ragging around their children and shouting at them sternly in public, or shoving them, with threats and I’m like…adults don’t like it when that happens TO THEM. We hate to be shoved, threated or violated in order to listen to the commands of others, so why raise your child to believe that issues get resolved via threats and violence.

I’m a  lovey dovey mummy and I practice the ‘logic an love’ approach and it’s weird to me how adults or other parents see that and think it’s weak, or that you’re not being stern enough? There’s not spanking in my house, no shouting and I disallow threats to a child. I champion understanding, communication and doing it with a smile. My mum and dad never raised me roughly at all. Mt dad has never raised his voice to me ever in his entire life and we get on better than most Daddy/Daughters. However, he just says how people raise their children usually mirror how they were raised and how it made them feel. To me Ruby isn’t even an inch naughty enough to have done anything in her life that would cause me to be concerned or so angry that i can’t handle her. I understand her completely, i get why she’s stropping, when she’s stropping…and i do because she is ME. Meaning I know exactly where she’s coming from and what she needs. If you adore you’re little girl, they won’t ‘Madam’ you out, instead they’ll adore you right back. Why punish a  little child, just because YOU can’t cope? It’s wrong. Put the wine down. Learn patience. I mean your child is something you brought into this world out of love. It’s a piece of you that you should love to nurture.

Preach over.

On the whole life is great. I’m waiting for the telly shows to come out and i’m nesting for the birth of my sonny son son. I’m beginning to want to be glammy and i’m excited to feel divine again and fit into itty bitty skirts, with a wink and heels.

I’m kinda in the mood to be adored today and to do something nice. Keiran’s wandered off to his Uncles for the afternoon and well he’s taken the Mercedes so now I can’t really go anywhere. Ugh!

But i’m delighting in all that I have, all that is about to happen to me and excited about the future. I WILL TELL YOU that I actually for the first time ever watched the Formula 1 race yesterday and HOLY MOLY is was actually really exciting. Keiran and I watched it on the sofa and I got really into it. It was fast, exhilarating, filled with fun, unhealthy competition and sweat. I thoroughly enjoyed it…so i could actually get into it all. Footballs still not my thing and because well being a previous glamour model, you know pretty much all of them from the boys wasting their time attempting to woo you with photos of their cars. #truestory So, i’m not keen on watching ex-boyfriends or my friends ex-boyfriends kick leather balls around for dollar. But racing…I ADORE and I especially adore seeing brief clips of Pussy Cat Doll Nicole watching Lewis from her box. Keiran was like ‘SEE, she goes and does things with her hubby.’ (And that’s because I usually refuse because I don’t like the same things as Keiran. I’m not a party girl anymore and i’m not a festival girl and I’m not an anything that i don’t find luxurious kinda girl.)

I think his statement was a bit silly, as of course the different is her boy-toy is one of the worlds best racing car drivers….so she went to support him and watch him..like any wifey, or girlfriend would do. I mean, i’d go watch Keiran if he was in the Formula 1 race. Of course I would. I mean, i go watch him play  golf for crying out loud and that’s not a giant international exciting car race. It’s a bench in Walton, Wakefield. 🙂  But I love to support him when he’s doing things that are  productive. It’s attractive to women when you have a man that actually excels at something wonderful, rather than a boy who is able to do a spikey hair do and get fucked up in local bars, in a tight t-shirt. Keiran’s a man who wants to do well and will do well. But i’m also a girl of the same caliber. Once this baby is out…there is NO STOPPING ME.

Watch this space!

 

 

 

 

 

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