Making it through Tuesday


Good Morning, my sexy bits of Tuesday! I have Towie on in the background, the nursery run has been a delight, I’ve managed to book myself in for a hair cut and diddle tomorrow, find out I didn’t need a sight test for another year anyhow, picked up forms to register with a dentist and with a coffee…but still in my faux fur realise that I actually have a midwife appointment today at 2.50pm. It’s a good job I looked…because I knew I had one coming up, but I just kinda didn’t know when and around this time (especially now that it’s got all exciting and my pains are all ouchy and every hour…) I sort of need to go, to see how it’s all shimmi-ing along. The check ups are always boring, as is the last stage of pregnancy. I say bring it on…get them nipple tassles swirling, lets have the baby and rejoice, so mummy can get back to her normal, happy, skinny, Summer ‘all the boys adore her’ self…OMG..AND HAVE A rum cocktail!! I am going to make the extreme MOST of my Summer and simply because i’ve been tied down for almost a year to the simply art of ‘do gooding’ with a side of ‘no fun.’

I’m ready. I’m fabulous! I can’t wait to meet my son! Ruby is eager to see what’s in my belly and well to be honest, it’s not that scary the second time around. In fact it’s more annoying because you can’t tell what real labour or fake labour is…as unlike the first time, you just palm it off with a ‘it’s probably just ‘Braxton Hicks.’ No more kiddies for me, until i’ve made millions then and i’m dipped in an excitable keenness for it, I can’t wait to get to making moola and owning my limelight once more. I’m proud of myself for getting through it all. Not proud of how i’ve acted during it. Yet feel lucky that i’ve managed to almost birth a healthy bambino. I always say ‘almost’ simply because I still have 4 weeks. The pregnancy has really gotten to me this time and well i have this funny feeling that i’m going to explode with glamour, fun, ‘ooh laa’ and diet trends. I just want to feel like ME again and celebrate it with utter enjoyment.

A builder hit on me today, as I was strut-waddling to the hair dresses. He could’ve chosen anyway to make a move and he chose the art of whistling, shouting and continuing with a ‘no really…are you single? Wait!!!’ I just looked, smiled, rubbed my bump, then slammed my Mercedes ‘mummy car door’ SHUT. (Ewww,..there’s a woman on my telly who’s addicted to eating cat hair. American’s really go for it don’t they! 🙂 I mean, I grew up in Hollywood, dipped in the town of tinsel and well everyone thinks the people who reside their are weirdos. Well when I did my 20’s there, it was all pool parties, bikinis’ dreams coming true, hot girls, ripped boys, tans, cocktails and auditions. We didn’t hump donkies, have 22 Mormon wives or eat cat hair. That’s weird. Boob jobs in swimming pools, with casting directors in Hollywood…is a Tuesday.)

I don’t mind builders because if you walk past them and they’re not whistling at you then you’ve completely lost your touch. They hoot and holla at everyone, hence why we girls don’t take them seriously. So, the poor chappy did a devastatingly bad job at beginning his ‘foot forward’ with a hoot and holla and then when I stopped to look at him….couldn’t believe that I had actually listened to him and then tried to do the ‘wait, wait, I need to really talk to you.’ I don’t think so matey. Ya snooze, ya lose! 🙂 I’ve dated everyone, all over the world…you can’t hang off a building at 21, with not even your bum out, trying to be a big boy…with ‘The Wunna.’ But again…i’ll say, I was flattered, as it’s nice when you’re a fatty to feel adored.

Booked a hair appointment simply because I can’t do my own hair and i’m not talking style and cut my own hair, I mean just ‘do’ it. I walked into my local one to book an appointment and luckily the girl that owns it used to go to my school. I didn’t know, but as soon as I walked in, she said, ‘It’s Chrissie, right?’ I replied with a kitty ‘Yes.’ She then told me that she went to school with me and was a couple years below me. I love that everyone remembers people from school. So, now I 100% trust her. Good people schooled alongside me. Now, she can tackle ‘the weave.’ Tomorrow…3.40pm. Bring it!

UGH! I keep eating too much with sucks because i’ve done well through my entire pregnancy only to stuff my face in the last four weeks enough to make the idea of trying to lose the baby weight a devastating mountain load of impossibility  But whatever, i’ll simply then state that curves are in and  because I haven’t managed to loose my weight quick enough. As soon as i’m thin, ‘skinny’ will be the new ‘rock curves.’ 🙂

I’m living off coffee today because i haven’t managed to get much sleep. Ruby and I are tight right now. We’re really close and i’m loving it. She’s my angel. But Keiran decided to…yes…be loving, but then surrender to the art of tease and terrify her with his ‘falling off his bike’ graze,which terrifies Rubes because it’s giant and ugly. (Rubes is a girly makes her weep.) You’d think that when you see a girl terrified, you’d stop teasing her, especially when her bossy mum has informed you that a girl, be she 2, 32, or 62 DOES NOT LIKE TO BE TEASED, made to jump, be lifted for no reason, or splashed with water. Keiran fails to learn this lesson..and being the child that he is…thinks it’s fun. So yeah, it’s fun during the time of ‘tease’ and even more fun for me when i’m sleeping in a bed with her and through the night she’s waking up screaming ‘noooooo like Daddy’s poorly’ via the fine art of nightmares. Men never learn. Earlier in the day he had showed me a picture of a car. (Romantic.) Then he told me that my ‘hair looked weird’ as I was cooking him dinner. (Thoughtful.) In fact the only reason why I have to pay someone else to do my hair tomorrow is simply because he doesn’t know where he’s put his straighteners. That seems odd to me? He’s quite a particular person and would never not know where the are? Not his straightners anyway? There’s definitely something weird going on with him? Not only are we living sort of separate lives, but there’s something not right with him. I don’t bother to ask anymore and because we have our own stuff going on. But we’re okay on the whole. Not perfect. Just okay.

I had a chitty chat with my chick friend yesterday and we discussed whether men who fancied ‘tom boy’ girls, were actually’ in the closet’gays. I decided that they were either selfish and just wanted a chick to do all the same things that THEY wanted to do and have ALL the same interests, so that they don’t have to sacrifice anything….OR they’re gay. If i was a boy, i know i’d fancy a girly girl. We’re a completely different species and we’re meant to be different in order to balance out. Women can do things that men can’t and vice versa. Women love manly men, with an emotional side, yet when it comes to being ‘girly’ we adopt gay friends for that, we don’t date men who are gay, just because they can make our hair look delicious and watch hours of realitv tv with us. Meaning, are men who like ‘tom boy’ girls selfish or ‘in the closet.’ I mean, they can have a glamour puss girlfriend. I once dated a gay who behind my back was making out with boys, because it’s what he truly fancied. I mean ,we only had sex once, in our entire relationship, yet he was quite boasty about dating me? In fact he shouted it from the roof tops because I was a great cover for his ‘straight boy’ act. Plus, I did notice that when we went clubbing we only seemed to go to gay clubs. Yet at that time, I had just tumbled off the telly and was quite popular with the lovely gays, making it the best night out for me ever in London…which is where I lived during that time. So you never know…?

We then both read up on Marie Claire’s ‘Signs that your boyfriend is cheating on you’ list, followed up on ‘Sign that he truly loves you,’ list and ALL THE THINGS that we’re on the ‘Cheating’ list we’re exactly how Keiran and I were. We were pissing ourselves over the phone. I’m like ‘Great.’ I even re-skimmed the ‘Truly loves you’ list and he doesn’t do any of the things on it. Lol. Not ONE thing. Jesus! Lucky me!

I need a nap, before I see the midwife. Extra sleepy today. @Wazza has started his ‘Live below the line’ challenge today, so don’t forget to sponsor him. He has to live off £1 a day. 🙂 http://www/ 


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