Phase 1

 

It’s a funny old ‘phase’ is ‘Phase 1.’ I don’t like it. (What a surprise! :)) And I simply don’t like it because you really don’t know what’s going on? One minute i’m  *ouchy,* the next minute i’m fine…i’m excited…i’m terrified. It’s like being a lunatic, but with a really great tan. I hate not knowing the score. I enjoy being a ‘man with a plan’ these days, so to speak. (And no, i don’t need an inbox of messages calling me a ‘tranny’ just because I said I was a ‘man.’) But yes, i’m in Phase 1 of labour. It began yesterday after my joyously aggressive ‘sweep.’ My contractions went from every 30 mins, to every 20 mins to now every 15 minutes. It’s been like that since yesterday evening and all through the night. Lovely! NOT! And well it’s currently still rocking at 15 minutes, meaning my ‘bump’ wants to play games with me. I’ve lost my mucus plug and i’ve had a ‘bloodied show’ (Whatever that is?) I’m in the longest, yet least painful stage of labour, however LET ME TELL YOU LADIES, be you a soon to be, first time mum,or already a mum who has forgotten the pain, IT ABSOLUTELY KILLS…even at this stage. I can’t even remember it hurting this bad, the first time around. I’d superficially remembered with a ‘yeah it hurts’ and packed away the ‘real time’ ACTUAL pain on a shelf somewhere in my memory box of a brain.  IT KILLS and i’m not talking, ‘ooh a little bit of belly ache.’ I’m talking MAJOR, MOTHER NATURE, HOLY CRAP, I THINK I MIGHT JUST KEEL OVER AND DIE, I REALLY CAN’T DO THIS’ pain. Hurrah! This is why women are the stronger sex. It’s times like this when you look at both species (men and women) and think how DARE they EVER be evil to us, when we have to go through such an ordeal, men should be on their knees to women EVERY DAY! We are the GIVERS..THE BIRTHERS OF LIFE. Don’t get it twisted. Poor Keiran..my lovely little hubby. His cousin Craig told me to take it all out on him and Keiran just looked at him and said, ‘Don’t worry…she will.’

Bottom line, it hurts, be warned. My waddle has turned into a very slow Clint Eastwood, open legged, careful stepped swagger. It’s not fun. It’s rubbish. But THANK YOU soooooooooo incredibly much to all of those who Tweeted and Facebooked me well wishes. All of you are fantabulous and well i’m an attention whore, so when i need to be cared for i reach for Cyberland, as it comforts me and there you all were, with your lovely words of support, good advice and cheerleader skirts. I adore you. Thank you! I was laid on my my sofa moaning…and you cheered me right up…like Tequila.

Wazza’s girlfriend @hannahtapdances was extremely good at baby stepping me through the whole Phase 1 journey. I’m not joking, she should be the birth partner for EVERY SINGLE PREGGO in this entire world. ‘Hire a Hannah.’ I can see it now. Of course, she’s modest and simply shook her head with an ‘ah no no, all i’ve done is tell you to get drunk and take drugs when you’re in there.’ 🙂 (She advised me to think of the fact that i would be able to enjoy a celebratory gin after getting through all the pain, yet i must make sure i’m not stupid enough to deny all the drugs that are on offer at the hospital. Oh and that I MUST swear! Lol. I know why Wazza adores her so much. How can you not! She’s so nurturing. I think I’M in love with her now. Hannah is now my new girl crush. Women just know how to look after women better than men do, when it comes to the big things.

Keiran, is over the moon, excited..in fact brimming over with masculine energy, to the point where he can’t contain himself. This is always dodgy when you’re his wife and going through labour pangs of ‘FUCKING OUCH.’ I’ve nodded and smiled and then i just couldn’t anymore, as the pain got the better of me. He went to lift weights in the garden with Craig, to burn away his streak over excitement. He must be all over the place internally at the moment. But he’s been really great. Right now, he maybe doesn’t know what to do with himself, or how to control how he’s feeling, or know what to do with how i’m feeling. Yet i will say, as we laid in bed last night, I felt safe. Having him just laid next to me, as we cuddled, sort of made my contraction pain not feel so bad, because i had my ‘Knight’ there, my ‘hero.’ I’m not jokin git took away the pain because I associate him with the art of saving me, or being my physical strength. It comforted me and i could finally breathe.

I need looking after right now and my mums been pretty wonderful at it. She herself is nervous for me, but is always there for me. I love her. There is nothing my mum can’t do when it comes to being a great mum. I don’t know what i’d do without her. It comes in handy when the hubby is hyperactive. But he is going to be that way. I mean this is his first ever son, he’s never been through this before, it’s overwhelming for him and well internally he might be mildy panicked, because i’ve noticed with Keiran, that the more ‘yeah i’m fine and excited, ‘ he says he is, the more terrified he is on the inside. He’s emotional. (Remember the wedding.) But I like that. I love him. He’s doing a really great job. But he’s eager to get to that hospital. As am I really, yet I keep dreading it all with a ‘Lord what have I done,’ and simply because I don’t know how the HELL i’m  get through this, if i can’t manage Phase one with a smile….and I can’t. (Ugh, my thighs hurt.)

How could I have forgotten it hurt this much? Eww…

So, anyway, i’ve done the bath thing, I haven’t been pacing, i’ve just been laying around like a moany beached, slanty eyed whale waiting to birth a human. I’m in pain, but my contractions are steady. My waters are yet to break…hence why I need to pace, so my mums going to take me on a walk around flowers (garden centre) and feed me (for energy.) I’m not going to be able to pace…but whatever I MUST!

I think i’ve been a bit moaney and negative about this whole Phase 1 trip. I need to cheer up a little and see the positive, breathe it out and know that he’s coming and i’m gonna love every bit of him being here. It’s going to be ouchy anyway on my journey to getting him, but ah well…let’s get this show on the road. I had a word with him when i was laid in the bath. He didn’t listen. I could tell. Men! I’m gonna focus on how much I adore Baby Ruby and the fact that she was so rock n roll that she refused to wake up for nursery this morning and when she did, the first thing she said, as she tried to peel her eyes open was ‘I can’t SEE, mummy…’ Then she asked for a sausage for breakfast, as she placed on the prettiest dress known to mankind. #yorkshire

We’re all happy, we’re excited and nervous at the same time. I’m still at home and not at the hospital yet, as my contractions need to be 10 minutes apart, or even 5 mins, or my waters have to break. Today is his actual due date. So lets see if he can bothered to show up. Maybe he’s just making me go through this pain for as long as possible for a laugh. Yeah, fun joke! How am I going to pace with my mother if I can’t move my legs??

I always thought pacing was for the idle? However, when it comes to being preggo…it’s all about gravity. If I want my waters to break. I’m gonna have to MAKE THEM.

Y’know, i actually feel as though, is I was in hospital i’d shoot into labour because my body would know it was meant to do that there. When i’m at home, it just chills because it knows that I only use home for wonderfully calming (unless i’m being shouty) activities.

I’m all uncomfortable. I need a massage.

 

 

 

Sweeeeeeeeeeeeeep ‘n stretchin’ it! :(

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HOLY JEEPERS! Not fun! Not fun! Not fun! Not at ALL funnage. Not even a BIT!

Wake up this morning, with slight achey period type pains….they become frequent whilst i’m dolly around with Baby Ruby in the car doing the usual nursery run. However, i took my mother this time and mainly incase I decided to give birth at the side of the road with tassles on. I[m glammy like that. Not much happened, other than the usual smile on my face, giggle, and joke, with a pile of mild ‘ouchy’ pains. So, i then drove my Mother and I to Pontefract hospital, as I had a 9.20am appointment to see the Consultant ‘Ms.Fattah’ (ACE Doctor) who was going to give me a quick examination and the option of a ‘sweep & stretch.’ (I’m not explaining what that is again, so hopefully you’ve been reading my blog, or you know how to work Google. 🙂 )

It all began with a ‘I can give you a sweep if you want, but we usually do them a WEEK after your overdue and you’re not overdue yet, so it’s up to you. Just know i’m happy to do one for you and that it is quite, if not very uncomfortable.’ 

I pause and look terrified…so she tried to reassure me with a ‘It’ll bring on the labour much faster, as in within 24 hours..’

That was it for me. I found myself over the top happily ‘YEPPING’ at her and before you know it I was pulling my pants down (pants that I had to apologise for. I literally said sorry for them having cherries on and being big knickers.) But yes, i’m pulling my pants down in the doctors examination room, with another doctor..a guy, merrily typing the the corner, as I’m behind a floral curtain…and then laying upon the couch with blue tissue hiding my privates, whilst being told to open my legs.

The Doctor looked at me with a smile and said, ‘this is going to hurt…oh and the jelly is cold.’ 🙁

Three seconds later and whilst i was still quite chipper her fingers were WEDGED inside my vagina, in the most ‘OUCHY’ fashion ever. It seriously felt like there no room for anything in my vagina. I felt like a virgin being butchered in front of crowds for entertainment. IT KILLED. No! IT F****** KILLED! and as soon as it happened it *flashbacked* me to the memory of how much pain the art of labour was the first time. As a mum..you forget. You know it hurts. But you forget the pain. The ‘sweep and stretch’ reminded me that this whole labour malarky was going to hurt and going to hurt BIG TIME.

It was quite obvious that I was in a great deal of pain as the Doctor kept telling me to ‘relax,’ as my vagina tried to fight it’s way to victory. It tried to spit her out! I looked at her with dolly eyes of pain and discomfort to the point where she felt sympathy for me and realized that I was maybe having second thoughts. However, she smiled AGAIN and said, I can[t stop now, i’ve already gone in, so I HAVE to go around now. I actually did downward lips and could’ve weeped. 🙂

So, i grabbed the Irish midwifes hand and squeezed the fricking LIFE out of it. The LIFE OUT OF IT. She was good because she tried to be loving, as I squirmed, wriggled and my vagina protested such an act. I even piggy *SQUEALED* half way through it. Then like the freak that I am, I weirdly began laughing and giggling because I was in such pain. This wasn’t even LABOUR. This was just a ‘sweep.’

Anyway, my laughter is obviously contagious because soon the entire room was giggling and well before you know it I was butchered…but it was over. (The other Doctor dude, still typing in the corner, like nothing was happening behind him in a curtain.)

Immediately, I had my ‘blood’ show and needed a wipe up and well then my contractions started and they began to be a great deal more intense. I don’t remember it being so painful last time. SEE! I forgot! 🙁 🙁 SAD FACE.

I honestly could’ve puked and cried, but instead I giggled and made crap jokes up to mask my pain.

The Doctor told me that i’d probably have my baby either today for tomorrow. (I’m guessing tomorrow, on his actual due date and because i’ve just called the hospital, after experiencing really ouchy contractions every 20 minutes regularly. I got given the wrong number. GEE! Thanks! So, when I finally had the right number all the midwife said was ‘Great, you’re headed in the right direction, call back when they’re about 10 minutes apart or when you can’t stand the pain anymore. Then we’ll see. Right now, you’re fine at home. Have a bath. Take a Paracetamol.’)

So, i’m in phase 1 of labour. Not a bad phase. You just get really intense pains every 20 minutes and then go back to normal. I can blog, so i’m still fine. I’m only blogging to take my mind of it. But whatever, it’s going to hurt regardless, i just forgot how much. I don’t know how women do it. Yet even my Doctor said, ‘You’re gonna NEED an epidural.’

Now that i’ve been reminded of the pain, i’m dreading every single second of it and not friends with the midwife who keeps telling me to chill at home and take baths, incase i end up sat on my toilet giving birth to my son. I want to be cared for. I’m sat at home on my own, after my Mum fed me sausages for energy at Morrisons, mid-contractions and whilst Keiran is at work. Plus, Keiran decided the best place to put his new weights was in the middle of the kitchen right infront of my emergency ‘incase I need more preggo supplies’ bag. I’m leaking and all sorts and there I am trying to move fricking giant MAN WEIGHTS out my way to get to my emergency pads! Jesus! Men!

The like i need any more dramatics to occur…the wardrobe man calls and tells me that I better be home and better not ‘let him down’ when he has my new wardrobes. Erm…DUDE. I’m in flipping Phase 1 labour and all he can think of is being ‘yelly’ down my phone. Hellooo…having a baby much. *Panic here.*

So, i’m hoping all is restored and the hubby comes home and that I get to rest and well within 24 hours i’ll hit big time labour and have my son. On his actual due date..which is tomorrow. I had my ‘stretch’ early. I think the next time i’m on the phone i need to sound far more dramatic and less chipper. I sounded like I wasn’t at all in pain, due to me being  showbiz. 🙂 It made her think i was fine. I’m not having my baby at home. She can THINK AGAIN. I’ll *WHAM BAM* that maternity ward’s door down if she doesn’t let me in when i’m ouchy. I feel like Baby Jesus and there’s not room at the inn for me.

Wish me luck.

Next contraction…a coming…NOW! 🙁  (Rubbish! Rubbish! Rubbish!)

Pre-Labour Spray Tan.

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So! I have finally managed to get the most AMAZING Pre-Labour spray tan this afternoon at around 3pm at my favourite salon, ‘Talking Heads’ in Doncaster, by the one and only, very lovely Michelle Buxton. Now, i’ve known Michelle for around 3 years, when she first noticed me off the telly, with ‘The Hilton’ that is ‘Paris. Today Michelle had the wonderful honour of having to see me starkers, naked, in the utter buff. 🙂 I was 9 months pregnant, in a little room, with one of her bobbles tying up my hair in a little bun, in front of a full length mirror, in the ‘buff’ looking like a Zulu Warrior. All i needed was a spear and a banchee cry.

We giggled, we chitter chattered, we slagged off boys, praised my hubby, moaned, laughed, talked about partying, motherhood and then we got to spray tanning. The best thing about Michelle was the fact that all she wanted to do (and I did look hilariously comedic fully preggo in the ‘nudies’) was to draw a smiley face on my belly so it could look like ‘Homer Simpson.’ 🙂 I adore that about her. I mean it’s always a bit awkward when you’re naked and fully preggo, without being able to see under your bump…and she was impressed with my shaving job. (I don’t know how i’ve done it, but I’ve managed to not have a..what I call a ‘Jackson 5’ vagina area.It’s bald..with the occasional feel of a chin, if you rub it up the wrong way. 🙂

But yes, she claimed my belly looked like Homer Simpson, because my boobs looked like two big eyes. Then we got down to business and she made up a special ‘Wunna’ tanning potion…a concotion she had made only for me by pouring lots of shit together to create the most glammy tan ever.

I swear it looks divine. It EVEN HAS GLITTER IN IT. Helllooo! I love my life. My mother loves it. I love it. Keiran loves it. So, i now reckon that I’m ready to give birth. I shimmie! I mean, there’s a chance my son my even come out with gold shimmer on his face, i glisten that greatly. 🙂

Since nothing else was working…i’ve been active, i’ve had curry..i’ve counted my blessings, eaten pineapple…(i’ve done everything but sex, which is odd because Keiran’s very easy for me to bonk..he’s dreamy and when we get going we’re dynamite in the bedroom…you’d be jealous…very jealous.) But yes, nothing has been working..and yeah I know it’s not my due date yet, I still have two days, i’ve decided to go with ‘ah well’ lets groom and at least look DIVINE for when it does happen. It WILL happen soon and simply because… as I told you earlier, i’ve lost my mucus plug and I have all sorts of goodies venturing out of places that you don’t want to know about. 🙂

Tomorrow morning i have my last appointment with the Consultant..with a side of the old pre-birth ‘sweep & stretch.’ OUCH! I’ve been trying to avoid it like the plague, but the Good Lord is like ‘Bitch, you WILL get fingered by a strange lady with a smile on your face.’ I never like people to see that i’m in physical pain, if i’m REALLY in physical pain. If i’m not…then i’m i’ll make a really big scene in order to be dramatic and i have no idea why?

However, i’m ready, I’m tanned, I have just painted my nails ‘Coral’ for the art of labour. It’s a way of keeping things ‘Malibu Barbie’ so to speak. I can’t reach my toes though…so my fingers look ‘dollicious’ and my toes look like…homeless peoples.

Keiran’s really excited about the baby…he looked so happy this evening and whilst hanging off the banister, after a steak dinner that I had made him, he smiled told me how beautiful I was..that I was glowing and that he loved me and then asked me how happy I felt on a scale of 1 to 10? I told him I was off the charts happy..and I could just see in his eyes that he had finally found his peace in love. When a boy finds his peace it means the world to him. I asked him if he felt the same and he nodded whist telling me that he too was off the scale and couldn’t believe how we came together and how our paths crossed so magically. That crossing changed our entire lives…and we had no idea it was coming. There was no real reason other than love, or fate for it to happen. Just at that time, on that day…we fell in love in a second from a look. It can happen to anyone. I mean, like HE said, you must pass 100 people a day and mot everyone, if anyone tugs at your attention, even briefly, let alone enough for you to change your entire life, become a father, begin a relationship immediately, get married after 11 months and then be expecting a second child all under a year and a half.

It’s magical.

Anyway, i better get to bed because i have avery early start. I nursery run and a hospital appointment. My mums going with me, to be nosey and Doctor like. The wardrobes are also coming tomorrow. But something tells me that i’m about to have a bambino…and well tomorrow will turn into a great dela more than I expected.

My bag is packed and i’m ready…

Keep your fingers crossed and get to pushing.

Wunna land is on edge, happy…and very very excited! We’re welcoming a son soon!!

ps, People really are much much nicer to me whe preggo. I had my tables drinks brought to me at Starbucks simply so I didn’t have to stand in line. I’m loving this bouji treatment…oh and i’m loving all my ‘You’re Fabulous’ messages. I rock and everything.

pps/ Keiran’s just come down looking so cute…like a little boy who’s just woken up from a nap. CUTE! I adore him. Best hubby ever.

Weight for you, Weight for me…

 

God afters, my pokey little pecks of peep show. Two days and counting, with a hospital appointment at 9.20am tomorrow morning. Ugh! Lost my mucus plug last night, in the living room, as Keiran was trying to convince me that the new giant snazzy weights that he purchased are for BOTH of us and not JUST FOR HIM. Hmm..? As if a girl of my dandy sort would EVER lift big ‘Worlds strongest man’ weights. Whocares, if they’re ‘Blowflex’ and designed in a compact manner. I wouldn’t weight lift ever  and i wouldn’t  lift my own body weight with any of the handmade apparatus outside. He knows this. So although he’s being ‘hubby of the year,’ i’m sure that he could maybe squander some of his hard earned dough on proper gifts for me 🙂 OR stuff for the BABY. Yes! That little thing that we’re having in the next couple of days! 🙂 Men! Saying that, it’s good to splurge on yourself if you need to. I certainly have. It keeps you occupied and keeps you happy as you wait for the baby to arrive. So, i’ll give him that. Yet, alongside me purchasing things for myself, i’ve managed to find it in me to ‘cha-ching’ on the children at the same time. My vagina must have rejected his new weights, hence why it turned to mucus and unplugged down my leg. Delicious! Sorry for being creepy, so early on in my blog. Keiran’s in love right now and whenever he see’s me keeps galloping up to me, kissing me and telling me how much he adores me being his wife. He did it again this morning, as I laid in bed with Ruby naked in my new big Marks & Sparks knickers. (Comfy as can be!) Maybe it was because I was naked, because I have actually been his wife for ages now. Maybe he’s only just noticed and it’s only just sunk in? 🙂 Ruby cuddled me this morning like her life depended on it. I couldn’t even get her up for nursery because she enjoyed her kip so much. There was one point where she rose said, ‘Excuse me please mummy…,’ followed by a ‘Thanks,’ as she lovingly butted me off my OWN pillow so she could sleep on it, as it looked much comfier than hers. She’s been chatty and chipper all morning and well i’ve loved it. When I dropped her off at nursery this morning, they let me have a peek at her playing. She was adorable and immediately with a wiggle of confidence tottered in with a giggle waving at all the staff and her friends, then she went up to a group of girls with a smile and said, ‘Look at my jumper. Do you like it?’ Aww! (God, my hair is a state today! Hate it.)

Anyway, still no sign of baby. No breaking of waters. No anything. I now have man weights in my kitchen that need to get moved and well last night I glared at a tower of cardboard boxes in my living room that Keiran quite brilliant moved this morning before I woke. I’m impressed. He’s really good at getting rid of the things I don’t like. He’s flawless right now, i’m telling you. I even congratulated him on his flawlessness,last night in bed. I couldn’t currently have a better husband. He has been a dream over this last month. He’s really managed to pull himself together and glory glow like a champ…after a bit of a dodgy start.

So, i’ve ventured into town this morning. Drove back with a piece of my beige faux fur trapped in the door of my silver Mercedes. #Bouji. I felt my waddle today and it’s hardcore. I’m still eating as much as possible to make my belly drop further and trying to walk around in order to bring on the labour. I even bought coral nail polish to make myself feel better mid-waddle and cancelled my spray tan, because it seems i’m heading into Doncaster in an hour with my mum. God, just doesn’t want me to have a tan this time round! If you see me out and about today and you have a tin of tan on you, instead of saying ‘hello’ just give me a squirt. I’ll appreciate you more for it. You know you’re desperate when you’re asking people to ‘squirt’ on you. 🙂 Wiggle-Wink*(I want better hair now.)

I ordered new wardrobes 2 weeks ago and well I wondered where they were, so i went to go threaten the guy in the store today to find out where they went, only to find that they did actually attempt to deliver them 3 times last week. (Ooops!) But because I didn’t know their number and they didn’t leave a message, I didn’t know that they were looking to arrange the deliver. LEAVE A VOICEMAIL DUDE. I don’t answer to numbers that i don’t know and that’s not as weird as needing to talk to someone to arrange a delivery and not leaving a voicemail.It takes 2 seconds and it’s BUSINESS. I’ve paid for them already.

So, i’ve been given their number and i’ve called and called and called. No-one’s picking up, so i’ll just call another 40 times until  they do. Give me storage! (God, I need to get out of these jeggings. Maybe I can get a spray tan in Doncaster. Where is this baby! I can’t believe i’m gonna have to have a ‘stretch out’ tomorrow. I thought it was FRIDAY. It’s devastating.)

Okay, i’ve got nothing else to say now, other than the fact that I’m back to my initial fruit cravings and i adore you all for tuning in. Hopefully, i’ll be telling you i’ve had the baby shortly. If not, sit back, kick off your kitten heels and have a cocktail for me. Maybe even *push* a little, to send me good vibes and make my lazy son arrive as pronto as can be. (Ugh, i’ve got a snotty nose. Never good when you’re gonna go into labour.)

 

 

Three Days

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Bank Holiday ended up being delicious! Odd, by all means, as now I have two random bits of giant, handmade, wooden gym equipment chilling in my back yard by a cream and pink roofed ‘wendy house,’ a small outdoor grill barbecue, a blue slide and carpet samples. My wonderful hubby and his new found cousin Craig decided that they were going to build gym equipment as they begin their mission to get some body swag. They both have good bodies anyway, good enough to flaunt and that’s all that matters. yet good isn’t good enough in Wunna land, as we need glitzy great bodies. They are prepping for their ‘get sexy’ mission…as am I…well after i’ve given birth. In bed last night Keiran said, ‘ive done it all for you. i’ve made pull up bars and equipment to get you back into shape.’ All for me? I couldn’t pull my own body weight up, if there was gold lining the skies, for crying out loud. I enjoy dieting and girlie working out and only when i have to. Ruby had a go on the handmade equipment the weekend (safety first, try it on your children 🙂 ,) as Keiran lifted her up to help her do up and down pull ups and even she said, ‘Daddy, i don’t want to play down-down-up stuff anymore.’ HAHAH.

I’m impressed with Ruby right now because her speech as come on to GREATNESS levels. Not only can she hold an adult conversation flawlessly, but she can initiate one and lead it with a wiggle. Bank Holiday was a dream to her, as she’s quite outdoorsy. Give that girl a deck chair, a bit of sun and a pretty dress with an updo and she is n FIRE. I’m highly impressed and I mean i can’t honestly believe where she gets it all from or how she comes up with all the vocab that she knows. It’s crazy. It’s like she’s an adult in a 2 year olds body. I have a chatty girlio and it really is the BEST!

Okay, so lots of sun, outdoor fun and good clean bank holiday chill time. I was dressed like a redneck or a Britney Spears wannabe, but 9 months pregnant. I did navy booty shorts, and tight boobie vert, with diamonds and a neon flower in my hair, with over the knee socks and beige fur ankle chill boots. 🙂 TRAGICO! Old men perved on me in the parking area, as I was helping the boys carry the light things out of the back of a van and when that happens, you KNOW you looked horrific. * You bedda REDNECKIGNISE!*

A back yard barbecue was enjoyed in the sun, as they did boys stuff and I enjoyed life, firstly just in a preggo deck chair and then with Ruby when she returned from a Meadowhall trip.She played eating grilled sausages, whilst Olympic running in a race that only involved her. She was quite the ‘Keiran clingy’ over the weekend. But we love that because in any girls life, her ‘Daddy’ is one of the most important men she will learn from and she couldn’t have a more loving role model. Keiran looked at me last night and we giggled half naked under the white sheets, in his new bed and she smiled with happiness saying, ‘I’m so happy to have you as my wife. I love you so much.’ I dolly smiled and then we both fell asleep until morn. At around 5am, I got in bed with Rubes and a weird fluffy Disney bird, who kept rolling me out of bed. I’ve become attached to waking up next t her, whilst pregnant, it’s a bad habit, but a habit that I adore, so for now…whatever. 🙂

Loved snuggling my hubby because we haven’t had that time together in AGES and it’s magical when you’re about to bring your first son into the world. Saying that, WHERE THE HELL IS MY FIRST SON?? I now have 3 days until it’s time for the big wiggly-woo and holy shit, he is not making the effort to poke out. Keiran’s been feeding me Thai chillies on everything, with a red wine spritz to bring on the labour. It’s hilarious because he’ll give me a burger and it’ll be smeared in fresh raw chillies, a sausage…it will have chillies on it…a piece of bread…chillies…a drink…chillies. 🙂 He even got so into it, that whilst he enjoyed sunny cider with his cousin in the garden, force feeding me spicy things, from the land of all things Thai, he lost his mind and said, ‘God, GIVE ME MY SON!’ 🙂

I’ve now become a disappointment. Everywhere i go now, everyone’s like ‘oh i thought you would’ve had the baby over the weekend.’ I’ve failed, to the point where i’m truly wondering whether I am actually pregnant and if i’ve just imagined the whole entire thing? Maybe i’ve just eaten all the pies and well obesity has made me miss all my periods, fooling me into thinking i’m pregnant. WHERE IS HER? I’m still not overdue yet and still very terrified. Yet it would be good to bring on the birth, simply because i feel ouchy, under pressure and like I need to meet my son before the midwife gives me a SWEEP AND STRETCH on Friday morning. Argh! I was knackered yesterday. We all went to the garden centre and i couldn’t even do ‘standing on my legs for 5 minutes’, without having to find garden furniture to sit on and pretend I was buying. I must’ve looked dodgy because when I found myself on a deck chair with lemons on, a lovely posh lady, with concern in her eyes came up to me and said, ‘Are you okay? Do you need any help?’ Nice lady. She was there to rescue me incase I gave birth. I smiled and told her I only had 4 days to go and well she told me that it is hard at such at stage, but I was beautiful. Sweet! That’s everyone’s answer to me, right now. ‘Aww…you’re beautiful, don’t worry.’ I very much appreciate it because i feel like a toad and certainly look like a greedy one. But really, when it comes to the old labour I don’t think ‘beauty’ is gonna come into much, nor will it help. But i’m flattered. Lets hope my son falls out of my beautiful ‘whoop-dee’ before Friday. Then you can all crown my vagina and give it an award for looking so good? 🙂 No joy yet. 3 days, until i’m due. Crikey! I’m getting annoyed at myself now. My bump has never been heavier. I need a tan to calm me and people rubbing my feet and fanning me, whilst i sloth around on a sofa. My belly is about to explode, but lets just hope downwards and with a baby on route.

So Rubes did well with Freebies at the weekend. Wherever she went, grannies loved her and kept giving her fruit, presents, chocolate, sweets and cold hard cash and all because she was cute. I want gifts for being cute. Surely she gets that from my gene pool! I got sympathy ‘aww’s’ for being pregnant and well she gets cash. Hmm…?

Actually people are much nicer to me when i’m pregnant, i should do it all the time. I can’t bare penguin waddling everywhere though. Where’s my Playboy glamour gone. I like the baby part of the shindig, but the 3/4 of a year of preggoness is not a waddle in the park. It’s shit.

I’ve been told that the baby’s not ready to come out yet (obviosuly, i do know that bit) and he’s still putting on fat. Fat? How big does he flipping want to be? This is Karma because i’ve always said that I wanted a pet Sumo wrestler. The Gods are like..’There you go chica….take that..bitch.’ UGH! It feels like he’s not coming out so much that I now can’t even imagine it. That’s how bad it’s become.

I got a card from my neighbours the other day, which was lovely and thoughtful because to be honest I haven’t really spoke to them much, only in passing, (y’know what I mean, like when you’re found closing the boot, or grabbing your shopping bags, or child out the back seat.) But they thought about me enough to send over their blessings., via Keiran with a card and a beautiful gift. I was shocked and happy all at the same time because it’s lovely when you get gifts from the unexpected. I’m meeting lots of nice people this month. I like it. It’s blooming my faith in human kind once more. (I’m currently glaring out of my window and all I can see, with Towie in the background is a GIANT, half the size of the house, wooden pull up frame. It looks like a contraption that they used to HANG PEOPLE on back in the day. I’m terrified. But whatever, it’ll probably come in useful.The other wooden frame looks like a giant rectangle, that a mine artist would use for an act. It’s all very queer. Bank Holiday got the better of the boys. I tired to spend part of it sunbathing on a zebra blanket in the garden, but I couldn’t get up without rolling around like a sausage for a good 15 minutes, swearing and shouting at myself for being an invalid. It was far from glamourous. It was atrocious. I had my sunglasses on and my fur ankle boots, trying to sit up the long way round. All you kept hearing was Asian-Yorkshire moans and the odd ‘FOR FUCKS SAKE.’)

But that’s it, i’ve decided that i’m not going to let this bump get the better of me. I’m ‘Chrissie-Glitzy-Wunna,’ I get what I want. I don’t mull around, twiddling my thumbs, sewing and ‘la-dee-daa-ring’ my time away. I’m gonna strap on my bra of danger today and i’m gonna get busy! Today, it’s curries, heavy loaded food, spices, pineapples, squats..the lot. He thinks he’s pulled one over on mummy. I think NOT! The midwife says it’s because i haven’t eaten too much this time around, so he’s a happy little weight. If i ate loads more, he’s heavy up and drop out. Hmm..? He’s due in THREE days. But Friday…is the dreaded have a lady put fingers in your ‘nunny’ day..so I want to kinda skip that part. Maybe, I should treat Keiran to sexytime? He’s actually being completely and utterly wonderful right now, that I can’t even flaw him. I wonder whether he’ll stay like that forever, or if he’ll end up on his own handmade hangman contraption. 🙂

Right now, he is the best version of himself and i love it. I look at him and think how lucky i am. I’m married to this AMAZING MAN. When a girl thinks she’s done well and can’t do much better, gents you have accomplished your love goal and SCORED. Make a girl feel like she’s the Queen of your world and she will love you forever. It works the same way the other way around. Yet even if you do girls, remember that men are visual…so they often wander off to a prettier face who at a gamble they hope will love them the way they want. Be the package…naturally…and you will have the love game down. Keiran currently feels loved, safe and whole. He feels free and the love that he’s searched for all his life, he now has. When men feels that way, they can conquer the world. I can look at him when he chilling or hanging out with Craig and read him like a little boy book. It brings a smile to my face. It’s like he’s my man and my little boy all at the same time. I’m like a little girl and woman all at the same time. Ruby is our world and our new addition we just can’t wait for. Even Rubes woke up this morning and shouted, ‘Mummy, mummy, when am I going to get my baby brother?’ I can’t believe that in a year and a half, we’ve accomplished so much. There should be no reins when it comes to falling in love, no time limit restraints, no fear and no baggage. Keiran adn I have always just felt love and gone with it with one another, without question. I remember on our first date saying, ‘You know what, lets just throw ourselves in at the deep end and see if we sink and swim. There’s no better way to find out if somethings going to work then to do it and go for it head first!’ I guess he found that attracted, that i didn’t fear loving him, that i cared about him enough to commit to him and that i wanted to give it a go 100% stylio…none of this ‘yadda-yadda- we can just be friends who fuck, bully.’ I didn’t sell myself short and when you don’t, a man knows you have respect for yourself, they know YOU know your worth and they know that they have to treat you right, as that’s the foot you’ve put forward. They see girls they want to ‘just bonk,’ or have fun with, very differently to the ones they choose to marry. He did the right think, he ‘put a ring on it’ and then we pursued our relationship fully, as lovers, best friends, life partners, with a new Mummy/Daddy title. It was new to both of us at that time and well since we truly have done so much together, it’s amazing. When you’re about to given birth and your with the man of your dreams, you do look back upon your relationship and your childhood. It brings it all a flooding and it’s magical. (Well only if it’s been good. Otherwise i’m sure it’s shitty. 🙂 )

I think i need a bath now to relax the muscles that need a chill. 🙂 My exercise will be the house cleaning. (Very ‘Cinderella’ of me.) I wanted a tan, but i’m not sure i can be bothered now. Please, please, please send me labour vibes. I need all the help i can get, so i don’t have to shimmie on down with the finger lady on Friday. I’ve just had chillies on Mac & Cheese and now my tummy is churning. Wish me luck! Lets get this show on the rode and get me out of these too tight for me kinckers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peace, Playground & Bank Holiday Weekends

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Happy Bank Holiday, my licks of lippy candy sticks and macho macho mate fests! The sun has certainly got his hat out. I’m 9 months pregnant and in booty shorts. I’ve skipped shopping at Meadowhall today, after completely knackering myself out in Doncaster yesterday. I shopped, waddled and thundered through the stores and realized that you simply can’t do that and end up okay, when you’re about to hatch a human in a few days time. Luckily, I met my Caramel Frappacino craving at Starbuck. MMmm….! TO DIE FOR! When I gave my first name to the lovely serving me at the counter yesterday, he paused, had another look and said, ‘It’s is CHRISSIE WUNNA!’ I loved it, because along with having my weave tightened, it made me feel like the world was a safer place and that order had been restored on this Earth ball. Infact, a great deal more people recognized me yesterday, at 9 months pregnant, then they have in the last year! It was insane. Everywhere I went..be it the coffee shop, the makeup counter, the hair shop, the pavement…the masses noticed a bit of ‘Wunna-Wunna.’ Maybe people associate me with being pregnant? Or maybe they just associate me with being fat? On the whole, i’m an attention seeker so I loved it. I only wished I was able to divinely glide and wave at people, instead of waddle and pout. But whatever, I’ve still got my wiggle and wink down..and what the fuck….i’m in booty shorts today remember,with a neon orange flower in my curly wurly ‘big’ do.

Keiran and his cousin Craig have spent the morning building a wendy house (macho) and are now venturing to the store to buy booze and barbequey delights. I’m wanting this bump to smack into labour so today and from now on, i’m gonna do all i can to wiggle him out..even if it means squatting..which would be a horrific sight in shorts, being this pregnant and especially because I couldn’t wear knickers because my arse is too ‘playground’ (as I like to call it.) A much cheery term than ‘FAT.’ I learnt it from ‘Real Housewives…Atlanta.’ Kandi had big thighs and she referred to it as having ‘far too much playground going on’ for the boys to play with. 🙂 It tickled my fancy, so like all genius talents…i stole it and took the credit.

So, i guess we’re having a barbeque here in Wunna land…even though we don’t own a barbeque. Yay! Rubes played in the garden all morning, with her magic lawn mower, cheap bubble machine. She’s now ventured off to Meadowhall with Grandma and the troops to shop her little Bank Holiday heart out. She spent the day at the park with Pete yesterday, so she deserved a bit of purchasing today.

Keiran said something lvoely to me last night, after I laid on the sofa, cried a little and stated that even though I wanted our little son out, I was scared to go through the pain of it all. Through dolly tears I held his hand and simply when there was no-one but us whispered, ‘I’m scared.’

He assured me that i didn’t have to be scared and that it would be worth it, even though he could never imagine how much pain it would be…yet he then knelt down next to me, with tears in his eyes, holding onto my hand as I laid on the sofa and he said, ‘You are my rock. If i’ve never told you that before, I just want you to know that you are. I loveyou being my wife.’

Awwwww!! I loved that, it sort of made me want to cry. It was like the part in ‘Troy’ (the movie) where Brad Pitt says, ‘In a lifetime of war, you were my peace,’ to the chick he had fallen for, or boning…or whatever, before he dies. I adore beign someone ‘peace’ and simply because yeah it’s romantic, but who the hell would’ve thought i’d EVER be able to be ANYONE’S bit of PEACE. I’m usually the reason why they’ve got their knickers in a twist.

This baby has made us stronger and our love for Rubes has grown sooo much because of it. We treasure our little ones always, but now it’s turned very hardcore. We are F–A–M–I–L–Y! (Sing it girl!) Everything just feels too perfect. I’m much better now. I mean 2 days ago I did have a weep because in my fear of labour, my head filled with negativity and I began to flashback all the terrible thing that we had gone through in our relationship. I wept for England, like a Princess. Keiran told me to not dwell on the past and concentrate on where we were in the present and the future, because no matter what we had made it to a good place. He looked upset that I had remembered all the rubbish times. I was upset that I had foolishly weeped my eyelashes off. Eww! Never a good look. He’s right though and that’s what is important in relationships, to always focus on the present and ever bring up the past bits that were a tad dodgy. You’ll never grow if you carry baggage. But it’s one of those things that people always tell us and that we always have to relearn. You hear it so much you ignore it.

But he then said, you need to see all that as more of an ‘education.’ That’s all it was ‘education.’ The art of learning. We’re in a tremendously great place now and well i can’t let the nerves of the labour get to me.

I’m relaxing today. I’m due to have a bambino in around 5 days I think? Or is it 4? May 31st, is my due date. My back kills but i’ve got a smile on my face and i’m ready to face the world, place my legs in those stirrups and start pushing the new arrival out shortly…without fear.

Hope you’re all having an ace Bank Holiday weekend. Hope you’re flirting with fun and dipping your pretty selves in cocktails.

Love you all! Thank you for following my life.

 

Ps, Oh shit, I forgot to tell you. Whilst I sat and had my weave tightened yesterday, I was sat next to what looked like a middle aged lady, who was apparently around 34, which would be sort of my age, i’m 32…but she looked like she was 44. Nice lady, but she had never gotten a weave before, she was having her hair highlightened and was telling me how excited she was to be getting extensions for the first time. I felt for her immediately because I know that when any woman is having her the whole *shabam* done for the first time…be it surgery, makeover, hair, new strut, new look…she has gone through some man troubles. It’s inevitable. I asked her why? She told me nothing. Then 10 minutes later she told me that she had just got divorced from the most controlling man ever, who was Italian. She met him when she was 19 and married him young. He mentally controlled and abused her by making her feel like he was a KING and she was a second rate citizen who was to do nothing but cook, clean, have sex with him when he wanted and look after the children. His Mother told her that that was her duty. It depressed her. She ate and ate, felt no self worth and slowly lost her identity.

Her daughter finally turned 18 and went to Uni, so she finally had the courage to leave him. (She always wanted to keep the family together, so stayed in the abusive marriage until her daughter was of age to be able to deal with separated parents.) For the first time yesterday she was getting her hair highlighted and extended. She had never ever done anything to her hair before and well she was wearing skin tight leggings and hells.

I loved it and told her how impressed I was with her because instead of her turning into a shrinking violet and crying into a gin with fear in her eyes on lonely nights, she instead chose to find her ‘Va Voom’ get her strut back on…and start a new chapter…which fabulous hair. 🙂

Women are the strongest beings ever! You keep you’re ‘Va Voom’ going always and you rock it like a Queen! I mean can you imagine a guy, be he an  Italian Stallion or whatever trying to tell me to not wear my FACE! What!?! I AM MY FACE! 🙂 I’d end up spitting on him in an eyeliner wrestle. Saying that, Keiran saw my naked eyes this morning and gave me a lecture on how much more he preferred it to my big smokey black eyes at 7am in the morning. 🙂

Apparently all the black eye shadow makes my eyes look sexy…yes…but ANGRY. (He actually growled.) He prefers the ‘less is more’ on my eyes simply because they look softer and more inviting, like he could see into my soul without there being a mask. I’m sure there’s a reason for my mask. #issuesmuch

Happy Bank Holiday!

C x

I Don’t Think We’re In Kansas Anymore…

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Holy Shit! The wind if so ferocious that Ruby’s ‘giant ‘thought it was sturdy’ Wendy House is flying around the garden madly, like i’m attempting to entice Circus clowns into my bubble, via pathetic Wunna tricks of ‘ooh laa.’ It’s like the Good Lord is FORCING me to live the Wizard of Oz. Like I don’t have enough going on right now. I’m waiting for this baby to hatch and well chasing a flipping plastic, giant, pink and cream, flying like a maniac children’s house is not my idea of ‘calm.’ It better not land of a witch because I really can’t be arsed today. Saying that, it might just land on me…which would probably bring on the labour, so whatever i’m happy.

I didn’t sleep a wink last night due to delicious back pains and all sorts of god knows what achey goodies. Made me moody when I woke, so I had a moan, text my mum with my moaning, grumbled a bit, then packed up my pity party, did my face, got dressed and championed the hideous weather with the lovely pig-tailed fruit of my loins (the one that DID ACTUALLY BOTHER TO COME OUT) and went on the nursery run. Unfortunately I ran over the neighbours plant pot, due to tiredness and not being able to look in my mirrors appropriately whilst reversing. I don’t know how I ended up on their lawn…but I did? Backwards! 🙂 I heard a crash and new it was me, so i simply drove off, with a cringe face and a peek in my mirror. Luckily, it was just a huge blue plant pot that they had filled with beautiful flowers. It’s shattered now. In bits and all the flowers driven over. On the bright side, they’ll never know it was me and well hopefully they’re not bothered too much by the plant pot disaster. If they are, then they’re weirdos. I don’t like people who make mountains out of molehills over nothing. Unless, i’m doing it of course. Plus, you can’t shout at preggos in the rain. It’s rude and inappropriate when everyone has bad hair and i have a weight problem. If it’s brought up, i’ll just charming admit that i did it and state that i’ll buy them a new one…*smile-wink-smile-sorry face.’ They’ll let me off with a ‘no it doesn’t matter.’ Then I’ll waddle off, thankful that it was a only a plant pot and not a little old lady or anything…then celebrate the fact that I got away with it. (Awww…i’m watching a proposal on telly and it’s making me all emotional. I loved my last propsal. 🙂 It was so romantic and meant so much. I want it again!! Haha. I’m such a massive sucker for romance. I loved being proposed to after 5 weeks and I had no idea it was coming. Even to this day, as bouji as I feel, i can’t believe he asked me…and so soon…and then we actually tied the knot 11 months later. There’s nothing lovelier than that moment when it comes to the man of your dreams, when he turns around of his own accord and asks YOU to be his wife. I always said our union was crazy because everyone thought it was so soon and no-one could handle it. But they weren’t living our relationship. By 5 weeks we were so madly in love and so connected that if he had asked me to be his wife in ONE WEEK, i actually would’ve said ‘Yes.’ I’ve always said that to him and it’s the absolute truth. I adore remembering it. Everyone thought it wouldn’t last, but here we are happier than ever, married, moving up in the world, enjoying our new life, closer than ever and with a son on the way…and a little daughter who we adore. BOOYAH! Magic! Well done us! We’re just two people who want the same things out of life. That makes a massive difference to us as a couple because a lot of couples aren’t similar, nor do they view the world through the same eyes..or even feel that connected. Keiran and I want the same things, the same result in all areas…and that is a BIG BIG thing, when it comes to unions and match ups by Cupid…who I used to swear was a drunk. You could even be married to someone and not have a strong connection. Even if Keiran and I weren’t married…our bond would be ridiculously and unconditionally strong. I was meant his wife and like he said the other day, ‘I just can’t imagine being with anyone else. I can’t imagine not having you as my wife.’ I love it. Brings a smile to my face.

Today, i’m in chill mode. Maybe i’m doing this whole ‘bring on the birth’ thing wrong? I’ve been active, happy and strong all the way through my last trimester. It hasn’t worked. If i stuff my face, lay on my back and do nothing whilst moaning…maybe it will alert my little bump into change and make him think, ‘Shit, what’s going on, i’m bored…i need to rock out of here to find some good time fun.’ He is a Gemini after all, they need ‘good times.’ Poor things not even born yet and i’m manipulating him. It’s different when you’re a girl and you have a boy, you feel like you are allowed to manipulate them a lot more than your little girl. I protect Ruby and her emotional stability with everything that I am and because of everything i’ve been through in life, as a little girl and a big girl. I don’t have her around anyone who picks on her, hurts her feelings…bullies her…or makes her feel inadequate…when she’s not. The younger years are super important because it establishes who she’ll be in her older years. I used to always have this argument with Pete, who would always use the ‘she’s too young, she 4 months old, she’ll not remember, by the time she’s 8 months old.’ But to me, who she is as an 8 month old, depends of how she feels as a 4 month old. I was right, she’s now 2 and going strong. She’s intelligent, well mannered and confident and every day is around really kind and super good kids. It makes a difference.

I guess I should use that theory when it comes to relationships. What you put into it in the early stages, mirrors how great or how well your  love will have developed in the later stages. But only put in the work if it’s worth it. If you’re dating a knob, don’t bother and you’ll know if you are, because you won’t feel happy and you’ll watch other girls feel and be treated better than you and wish you had the same. All girls know when they are not being treated the way they should be. Some put up with it. Which is wrong. Some don’t.

I actually read a Tweet by a 15 year old girl yesterday who said, ‘Some women respond to attention because they want to be wanted.’ I mean how clever is that little girl..ALREADY. I like her. She has brains and she has it DOWN. I can see an attention whore because i am one and well I use to be a tragic one. Now, i’m not so much a tragic one. I don’t pine for attention anymore or the need to be loved and because i have love and attention these days. When you have it, you obviously don’t crave it and act a fool to get it. I’m happy. So when I see pictures of grown up chicks, with Facebook statuses that make me cringe, due to them selling themselves far too short, i shake my head with disappointment, sit back on my throne and get on with my day. 🙂

Anyway, i’m off to stuff my face. I felt so ills-ville last night, but now i’m in my pyjamas and resting I feel great. I’m not doing ANYTHING today and why should any chick when she’s 9 months pregnant. I might watch Latinas shove each other on ‘Cheaters’ again this afternoon for cheap thrills and then indulge in a reality marathon of Towie, Housewives and Pregnant Teens. I hate the rain, i hope it stops. But whatever, life is good. Bring on the birth. But hopefully not until i’ve had my weave tightened tomorrow. 🙂

Ps/ My friend ‘Rach’ has woken up in Iceland this morning. It’s 2 Degrees warmer there than it is here in England, so she’s celebrating by treating herself to the Geothermal Blue Lagoon Spa. Great! Here I am chubby, stuffing my face and even hoping to end up in an ‘ass out’ gown, with my legs in stirrups, as I push a human out of my privates. My life is sooo wrong. Lol.

Piddles, Beds and Fripples

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Good morning you dickie birds of jiggy! I almost got excited for a wee moment…(so to speak) because as I dropped Baby Ruby off at nursery, with the lovely ‘turning Glamour puss’ Donna, I thought I felt my waters beginning to BREAK. (Yippee! Hurrah! Bring out the banners!) Alas no. It’s all not that exciting. I actually just wee’d a tiny bit down my leg, due to a distinct lack of bladder control caused my preggoness. 🙂 Sexy! I got all excited for nothing. But i think it’s almost time and simply because last night, when I was wondering around in a frilly lemon tank top, my slanty eyes and my vagina out, i felt ‘ouchy’ cramps, like he was intending on making an arrival shortly. I bent over the new bed, that Keiran was snuggled up in, cosied in white Egyptian cotton sheets, sort of like like dog in pain. It was kinda scary and exciting all in one. However then my lovely hubby laughed with an ‘Oh great, this the first night I get to sleep in my new bed, after months of having to sleep on the sofa, after waking up at 6am every morning and working like an exhausted dog and now we’re going to be in labour all the way though the entire night. Don’t get it on the bed.’ 🙂 

The pain then eased off…almost as if ‘the bump’ knew Daddy needed a good night’s sleep before the circus of a newborn. Plus, I’m getting my weave tightened on Saturday at 1pm, in Doncaster…so if he could just wait until i have fabulous hair and a second spray tan, then i’d be happy toooo! 🙂 I had lunch and coffee with my parents yesterday. We went to Farmer Copley’s Moo Cafe. My Father is friends with the owners, Robert and Richard Copley. We walked in, and immediately Robert screamed out with greeting delight welcoming us to his gaff. Then we had steak sandwiches…best steak sandwich i’d ever had! No word of a lie! love that place. Must go again. I enjoy that my folks know everyone who owns everything. We’re welcomed everywhere and i’m not sure why other than the fact that I have spendy parents and well they have…connections, connections, connections. I don’t know why they’re so happy to have us, but i’m grateful. It gets me in ‘circle privilege  when i’m up north…because I have London and Hollywood down to the wink! I’m loving Yorkshire life right now. It’s a great place to ‘do family,’ well…if you’re not celebrating Yorkshire the ‘chav way’ round. *Dunking my Digestive into my Earl Grey.*(One of my guy friends has just dumped his girlfriend and is now moaning because he’s madly in love with her. Erm..then why dump her you idiot? Boys really do need to man up at times. How does ‘that’s it i want to break up,’ translate as ‘I love you madly, please please love me back.’ Fears a sneaky bastard, but it’s always good to be brave enough to be able to say what you truly feel. That’s what women want. We adore brave men. And not those that chicken out of declaring love, or those that are too terrified to tell a girl that he loves her, without testing to see is she loves him back first. I think that’s why men have always delighted in me and simply because i’m really good and communicating and getting how I feel across and not like a slow sailing ship, but more like a bullet. 🙂 Bad if I dislike you, but ace if i love you. I got my fairytale that way AND on the telly box.)

Anyway…I heard so much GREAT GREAT ‘can’t tell you anything about any of it’ news last night that i was simply over the moon, bubbling over with champagne froth of happiness. It’s crazy how happy you can be for yourself and people, when you hear things that you know makes them really happy. It was an amazing night of good news, which sort of followed an amazing night with Hubbilicious. We set up the new room last night and you should’ve seen little Keiran’s face. He just kept inside smiling and jumping up and down with excitement saying ‘I can’t believe I have a brand new bad. You don’t know how great this feels. No-one’s EVER bought me a bed before. I’ve always had to buy everything myself in life, or buy things for other people. This is amazing. Literally.’ I sort of gave him a ‘Welcome to The Wunna Family’ smile. I have a great family and my branch of development..as in my new little family is an even better extension of that. I love seeing people I care about filled with real happiness. He was like a happy little boy last night reliving his childhood. As soon as i left his tucked up in his brand new fluffy white sheets and turned out the lights, he fell asleep immediately. Oh and yes right now we DO have ‘his and her’s’ rooms! We’re traditional and modern all at the same time. Traditional when it comes to the love, romance, loyalty and way our roles work. Yet modern when it comes to style, manner, swag and material things. 🙂 ‘His & Her’s rooms simply means we can tag team the children AND we can free flow from either room for sleep, cuddles, or sex whenever we want. It keeps it sexy. We’re both independent and love our own space. So it’s ideal for us. Apart from I have Baby Rubes in my bed, weeing, puking and donkey kicking me, whilst i’m pregnant. 🙂 I love having her next to me for a cuddle when I wake. (God, i can’t believe that i simply piddled a little down my own leg this morning and thought it was my waters breaking. Annoyed!)

Yesterday was great. It really was. I got a bit moody mid afternoon due to my delicious hormones and basic preggo attitude problem. I think I was cold and when i’m cold i’m grumpy. I was walking around Junction 32, the outdoor shopping mall in Castleford and it was freezing. I made the foolish mistake of being 9 months pregnant, and thinking it was okay to venture out of the house without my bra on. Not to feel sexy and turn on the masses. But just because my bra hurt my boobies, I had just showered and tan, so i figured a throw on, no waistband, pink maxi dress would be perfect. Bra-less. Bad move. I officially became the weird fripple woman that teens made fun of. Don’t get me wrong, there was plenty of the wrong attention due to pokey out nipplage. But it just made me feel odd and self conscious. Weird really as i’d usually embrace a round of the ‘Fripples’. (frozen nipples.)

Anyway, this morning during the nursery run, I had a convo about what it feels like to be a woman, in comparison to a young hot girl. Donna, (who’s Ruby’s key carer) is turning all glamour puss by the day…and I lvoe that in women and I hope that I inspire that in most. 🙂 She’s getting blonder each time I see her, she’s bought extensions, ordered new shoes, rocking a golden tan…and well even managed to get her lashes to stay on all night the other night! 10 points! We ended up talking about how awful it feels to be an oldie, when you go out to the club because you have to sit and watch young 19 or 20 something chicks, in their tight boobie dresses and booty shorts, with their tans and big blond hair, boobs and heels rock in and grab all the attention…attention that you once had.

I agreed that it can be hideous. However, y’know I feel sexy right now. I knwo I’m not as yummy as I used to be. But nothing is sexier than being 32, having wisdom, life experience, stories to tell, great sex skills :), ooh laa, a Hollywood background, a stint on the telly and a great set of knockers. YES, there are times when I see a pretty girl and see watch every man watch her wishing they could be with her…even if you’re with a guy that’s means to only have eyes for you and it’s not nice, it makes you feel insecure and liek you needs to leave the vicinity promptly. Yet, if you can’t beat’em, join’em. I believe that just as older women are made to feel insecure by a young hottie p’totty. Young pretty girls also feel JUST AS insecure when they see a hot ass M.I.L.F. Boys love M.I.L.F’s. It’s the hot mummy syndrome that they can’t resist. They love to be cared for, think sex will be better and want a bit..always. The bad thing is that boys use young pretty girls for sex and boys, use M.I.L.Fs (well the ones with the good lives) for money. You have to be really careful. It works both ways so ladies work what you’ve got and flaunt your ‘sexy-sexy’. Girls are hot no matter what age. As are guys. It’s all about confidence, glamour and fabulousity. Men kneed to know how to treat a women and women need to know how to visually stimulate a guy. You’ve got to be in it to win it. Sit in ‘ too shy to flaunt’ corner, then you’ll be sat there crying into your rum and coke, as hottie number one, be she young or old takes your man. *Bronze here.*

This week is lasting ages!

Oh and to those of you who don’t know if i’ve had my baby or not. I really haven’t. I assure you, YOU WILL KNOW when i have, because there will be no blog during the labour and well i’m far too much of an attention whore, to not inform you of such an occurance.

Love you. Thank you for following my life.

Excited for the future. Married life rocks. Ruby is delightful. I feel sexy. Entertainment is going to be a blast. I can’t wait for the baby to make an appearance. I can’t wait to start the money making. I’m happy with where I am right now and looking forward to making each and every dream of mine come true! Booyah! Love it!

 

 

 

 

I’ll never make a baker…

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Good morning my sexy chimps of showgirl! The waiting game sucks. I’m not one who delights in the fact that I have to wait for anything, even though I am far more patient now that i’m a glitzy old bird in eyelashes. I’m ready to hatch, but my bump isn’t playing and the thing that terrifies me most is the simple fact that as of right now, I am NOT overdue. He’s not actually due out just yet and well if he’s my son, (I hope he is, ‘Helllooo Jeremy Kyle lie detector’) he’ll definitely be fashionably late to the party. Plus, he’s a Gemini…meaning he’ll be dipped in glittery showmanship via genetics naturally.  But yeah…what i’m actually terrified of… is the simple fact that if he doesn’t come out on time, or before his big date of ‘due’…then I’m going to have to go through the horrific act of the ‘sweep and stretch’ where some lady that i’ve gotten to know during the pregnancy, will poke her fingers, (hopefully gloved) that she’s had her lunch time sandwich with…in my vagina and sweep them around inside me, whilst stretching it out angrily, in order to encourage my waters to break. It’s my worst nightmare. But i’ve told you this many a time. I am aware that most of you would think i’d delight in such an act, because i’m such a floozy. But let me tell you..it ain’t too pretty when it’s fingers that you don’t appreciate, know, or ones that you aren’t sexually attracted to. It’s like having a dodgy one night stand, but in the day, sober and with a middle aged woman. 🙁  Now that i’m a goodie goodie…i only want my hubby’s fingers tinkering around my body parts. It’s a safety mechanism. I don’t trust other fingers. I’m damaged goods, thanks to Hollywood. But yes, as lovely as midwives are, they’re not that lovely when they’re poking and stretching your vagina out…with sandwich fingers. 😮

(I weirdly totally fancy Heinz tinned spagetti. Eww…how low budget of me. At least i’m craving champagne at the same time.)

It’s not even 10am yet and i’ve already told that I’ll never make a baker…because they have to wake up at 4.30am, to roll out pastry and they can’t wear eyelashes. EWW! Can you imagine! I’d be strolling into Cooplands, with a gin spritzer in my hand and staff, with rollers in my hair, glueing my eyelashes on, bronzing my cheeks, rolling out a pie in leopard print heels and a dusty branded apron on. FIRED. I had this conversation whilst dropping Ruby off at nursery. The other mums and staff must love me. ‘Here he’s my child. I’m irresponsible. Your turn.’ 🙂 I’m a show to them and they eagerly await my arrival. Even the tiny babies like me because they think i’m a toy. Honestly, a 7 month old baby boy, looked at me and grinned like a Cheshire cat once his eyes caught mine. I figured he either fancied me or thought i was a toy? I’m going with toy, simply because I’m appropriate these days. He gave me ‘Hey, HEY, hey’ eyebrows. Champion. I’ve still got it, even though i’m fed up and HUGE. I’m huge, i’m really huge. I even stated how HUGE i felt to Keiran last night and what was my romantic hubby’s reply, ‘Yeah, sleep with me and you get HUGE. Oooh Salma Hayek’s gorgeous…’ (as he watched the telly behind my HUGE speech.) Lol. That’s Keiran for you. She is sexy though (when she’s thin…my school and also pregnant friend Ms.Sykes, pointed out that i would find comfort in Googling Salma during her weight gain..I did)  and well yes, not so great chubby, but in the movie last night, she had a beard. Any girl that can rock a beard and still look shaggable deserves a round of applause. GET ME THIN.

Keiran and I are both going on this mad track of wanting to summon our ‘ooh laa’ back once more.. I mean before, Keiran and I had ultimate power because we were STEAMY HOT. 🙂  You could gossip all you wanted and stare from your little peeky corner…but we celebrated love like Cloud 9 Victory Gods of romance (we’re still doing that) but most of all…we were SEXY FIT! And so sexy fit, that it was sickening. It would make boys trip over their willies and girls grow nipples that pointed the peaks off Everest.People don’t mess with the ‘sexy fit.’ So.. I need a waistline, we both need tans and we both want our hot bods and swagger back. (Look to the above piccie…I want that waistline…skip the nipple part…but the waist line…I want. Unfortunately and because i keep breeding…it’s gone walkies.) I’ve never been this chubby in my life, even the first time around, i didn’t hit this peak of chunka-wunka. I want budget spagetti now. I’ve depressed myself. And  I need to tan simply to look smaller. The darker the tan, the bigger the hair, the larger the bag you carry, the smaller you look girls. Remember I said that! *Wiggle-Wink.*

Oh! I also got called ‘Buddha, if he was a Hoochie’ this morning. Life is looking up. I’m getting back to the old me. 🙂 This is what the Mums talk about at Ruby’s nursery AND she goes to a PRIVATE nursery, where everyone is meant to come from a certain standard of living. Pahaha.I love being a ‘hit’ with the mums. Each morning is filled with wit, banter and dropping our children off for others to school and care for. 🙂

So..the BED FINALLY CAME yesterday. It hasn’t restored my faith in delivery services, due to the fact that it was late, especially when the delivery man looked at my receipt and said, ‘oh this was meant to be an arranged delivery…that’s why it didn’t come on time, because usually we get them out to people straight away. Yep..there you go. Arranged delivery’ YEAH, I KNOW IT WAS AN ARRANGED DELIVERY. I arranged it for MONDAY. It’s fricking TUESDAY AT 5.30PM..after a TWO WEEK WAIT.’ But i’m gonna be positive. I have the bed and it looks delicious. Now all i’m waiting for are wardrobes…things are looking up. (I really do need a champagne.)

I’m excited for the birth. I’m looking forward to the telly shows hitting your telly screens. I’m really chipper right now, love and family are brilliant. Keiran laid on the sofa last night and said, ‘I feel really good. Our relationship is amazing. It’s perfect. I’m really happy.’ Hearing the man of your dreams say thatm when you’re not doing anything but being yourself is wonderful. I love LOVE. We honestly have the most amazing little family and we have ONLY known each other for just over a year and a half. So girls…you can and will find your Prince…even when you think it’s an impossibility and when propping up a bar and being sick off your hotel bed seems the only answer. (I did that lots. I remember how drunk i used to get out of boy sorrow. I was amess. Now, i’m a champion and i’ve never felt happier. I’m in a good place and it’s only when you’re in a good place that good things happen. I’m ready to make my dreams come true, no matter what. It doesn’t matter what people say, what you represent, or how you play. If you’re fabulous and have achieved everything you want in life and more…with more to come, then people can say whatever they wish…Your life will always be divine. YIPPEEE!!!

 

 

Stressy Drama & A Whole Lot of Wrong’uns

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So, errand running has been a breeze and errand running has been a breeze because the BED STILL HASN’T ARRIVED! Argh! Incompetent delivery folk really do get on my nunnies. I want a pet Sumo Wrestler, so I can make him greet them at the door and wrestle them to the floor, whilst eating chicken drummers, until they apologise. ‘Yes, Christina. I 100% promise, especially since you’re 9 months pregnant, that your bed will be arriving tomorrow.’ It is almost 3 o clock. They have 2 hours to get it to me…Something tells me this ain’t going to flow as nicely as I need it to. At least I have headboards now. No bed. But a headboard, in fact two. Plus, I was told that my new wardrobes were to be coming tomorrow and now it seems they will be venturing to me NEXT WEEK. What is wrong with people?? Why say tomorrow, if you mean tomorrow of 2072. I guess it’s all about the sale and i make it quite clear that I will refuse to purchase anything that does not arrive promptly..I’m like that anyhow, yet when pregnant, the whole point is that I need to arrive before the baby does. I’m fuming!

Then to make it worse, I tried to be a do gooder and give my quilt to a recycling bin, but I couldn’t fit the goddamn thing into the giant metal slot. It was like trying to wedge my ego into a plughole. I heaved. I hoed. 😉 I moaned and roundhouse kicked my way, in dying hope to get that fucker into the tank. Nope. So, i hair-tossed, thought ‘bollocks’ and left it half in and half out…and went to buy chicken…that I wished was GIN.

I was hoping that i wouldn’t get told off by the quilt brigade on my way out, however luckily, some lovely being had shoved it in for me. (Yay! I love it when you’re rubbish at something, then someone comes and saves the day and does it all for you, in the correct manner. I can luckily blame everything on being pregnant right now, so I need to use it to my advantage around…bins? #sexy)

Anyhow, before errand running began, there I was all exhausted, but hanging in there and my mum came around to aid me headboard carrying. She was much calmer when I drove her into town now. She trusts my driving skills and well..it makes me feel goood. She deserves to get driven, instead of having to look after everyone all the time. My poor mum actually ended up having to watch the shop for the owner, whilst he tended to my heavy lifting for me. 🙂 She always gets herself into those situations. No-one leaves me in charge of their stuff and simply because I have a face that  means trouble…even though i’m a delight. 🙂

But yes, before we left, Pete got SCREAMED AT by my Mother..for a good 25 minutes and I’m talking NINJA-HUBBA SCREAMED AT! It was actually really stressy, to the point where I had to leave the room and it was only down the phone. #yikes. So Pete’s been upset over the fact that he is being referred to as ‘Daddy Pete,’ instead of just ‘Daddy’ and Keiran…just Keiran.’ I knew it annoyed him, yet instead of confronting me about the issue, he decided to secretly train Ruby behind everyone’s back, so she will learn the way things need to be. Which includes her calling my mum…’Barbara.’ Ouchy! My mother LOST IT. Ruby is her entire world and she provides, lvoes and bends backwards and then some for her, which is more than anyone else, including myself even…does. Pete’s really lucky because he doesn’t have to pay for Ruby, he doesn’t have to see her when he can’t, or he doesn’t feel like it, he doesn’t have to do the sleepless nights, the disciplining, the educating…the having her over, the paying child support, or contributing to the £800 a month nursery fee. Making his role…less powerful. My mum put him back in his place, lets say. You never want to get on the bad side of a Wunna.

Surprisingly, he actually brought up the ‘Daddy Pete/Keiran’ thing and well my mum stuck up for Keiran like he was her life, her son, her world! All i heard as I sat on the steps like a little girl was ‘HE HAS EVERY RIGHT TO BE CALLED DADDY. HE DOES EVERYTHING FOR HER. HE LOVES HER. WHERE ARE YOU WHEN SHE CAN’T SLEEP, WHEN SHE’S GOT A FEVER, WHEN SHE NEEDS A CUDDLE… YOU’RE NOT ANYWHERE! YOU CAN’T BE RELIED UPON. HE’S THERE FOR HER ALL THE TIME. HE HAS EARNED HIS TITLE AND WELL IT’S JUST THE SAME AS YOU’RE SITUATION. YOU CALL YOU’RE MUM & DAD, ‘MUM & DAD’ AND THEY ARE NOT YOUR BIOLOGICAL PARENTS. YOU GET IT, BECAUSE YOU’VE EXPLAINED TO ME THAT YOU CALL THEM THAT BECAUSE THEY ARE THERE FOR YOU. RUBY HAS TWO DADS. HE IS HER DADDY AND YOU ARE HER BIOLOGICAL DAD.’ It went on for ages….and because my mu didn’t like the fact that Ruby called her ‘Barbara.’ (Which Pete taught her.) It’s more that just a title, or a name call. My mum literally does EVERYTHING for Ruby. She has the best of everything because of my mum and well Pete’s mum won’t even let Rubes stay over the night, let alone run around the world backwards just to get something that will make Baby Ruby smile for a second.

It was drama..and set the standard for the day. *Imaginary rum here*

Then there’s people on Jeremy Kyle, who i’ve chosen to litter my background noise, who are moaning because they once had sex with a guy in a car park and is now mad that he takes no responsibility for the child that was made during that distinct moment of romance 22 years ago. SHOCKER!  If you bonk men in car parks, then you can’t really complain that he is irresponsible, when you both we’re sort of irresponsible. The chances of him wanting to buy you the diamond and put a ring on it, are slim, when you’ve put out in a Punto, outside Netto..or wherever.You need to be more careful. Then to make it worse….he wasn’t even the dad and there were 3 other options. Jesus! And all of this as the 22 year old girl, sits in her chair in tears, because she doesn’t have a dad. I need a ticket off this circus of destruction. I might need to go into labour, just so I can have a brief lay down by myself. Yeah, it might be a hospital bed…but whatever…it’s a lay down innit. 🙂 An ouchy lay down, but i’d have much more peace than I have today. Where’s my BED!!

Oh! THEN I randomly glance over my online bank statements to find out that Specsavers have been taking TWO DIRECT DEBITS OUT OF MY ACCOUNT. Lol. Could today get any better! I might as well pull my frillies down and kicked up the arse by a big old leather boot. I called them and the lazy insisted that it must have been a mistake on my part. She looked. It wasn’t. But ofcourse the correct person i need to speak to is not in, meaning she had to take my number and call me back. That famous line that ends with no help at all. UGH! I’ll be calling them in a week, if I remember. So remind me.

No bed, no wardrobes, double money gone, bad telly options…massive stressy shouting…Lord Knows what’s next. How can I get through this sober?? I need to relax, I feel ultimately stressed. I enjoy how delivery folk state that if you are not in when they call to delivery your good, they will charge you £20 each time they have to reschedule. That’s a laugh. How about ME charging THEM £20, each time they fail to make a delivery date. I would’ve already made almost £100.

Today is ridiculous…and my fake tan tanned one hand dark mental brown, whilst the other chills in ‘medium.’ Splendid.