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.