Hey-HEY-Hey, my charming licks of love festival, slopped over in giddy wiggles of ‘ooh laa.’ You’d think I got up on the right side of the bed, by the cheery sound of my tone this morning. But I didn’t. 🙂 I was manipulated up by my 2 year old, who made the executive decision to wake at around 6am, and of course if she’s up, I for some reason HAVE to be up, by her rules. It began with her glueing stickers to my cheeks, (face cheeks, not bum cheeks,) then telling me she needed to watch Mr.Tumble, followed by lying, continued with a dollop of moaning, crying and sasserilla, then she DEMANDED that I wake up, followed by stating she needed to watch Peppa pig on my phone, with a big finale of ‘Mum, i’ve pooed myself and pooed all over the bed.’ I leapt up with a ‘OH MY GOSH! WHAT? Let’s get you changed.’ She looked at me with her evil snigger and said, ‘Oh look mummy’s up now..change my nappy and get me Peppa pig.’ She hadn’t even pooed AT ALL.
At 2 years old she has already learnt to lie and manipulate me in order to get what she wants. Today was the day I was out smarted by a being that I created. Jeeze! I’m telling you, it’s all because I’m sober and not in sequins. If I wasn’t, I’d spy it all off by miles and be able to ‘slam dunk’ the situation with a simply hip bump and wink. Luckily, I’m still fabulous, because if I wasn’t…I’d be doomed. I looked at her and gave her the ‘lying is naughty’ lecture. She’ll grow to learn that it’s actually an art that she’ll need to use a lot in her life and sometimes it gets you everywhere. She cried twice this morning. Firstly because she didn’t want Keiran to go to work and secondly because she didn’t want ‘Grandma’ to go to work (who had dropped something off this morning. Keiran enjoys to she her miss him and tear up because he’s a man and it makes him feel loved. Typical. My mum can’t stand to see her cry, because she’s a girl…and almost didn’t go to work simply to make her happy. 🙂 Luckily, I got one over on my own loin fruit by lying right back at her and telling her that Grandma had disappeared because she went to go find a rabbit named ‘Pedro.’ #dontask It worked. Mummy wins! Get your pretty bum to nursery much!
Today and before it was even 11.30am, I managed to kill, whip and ‘shazzing’ my entire ‘to do’ list.My ‘to’ do’ list is always an imaginary,in my head list because i’m far too lazy to write it all down and tick it all off. I think that’s stupid. It’s a waste of my time. I’ll use my brain for now, whilst it still works and well by the time my brain no longer functions, i’ll have staff who can think for me and assistants who’ll remember what’s meant to be going on in my life.
All i’ve actuallly done is by snacks for the home. Keiran, Rubes and I are all about our food right now, so I do daily trips to stock up. (I’m preggo and nesting.) I went too far today and snacks turned into a car boot full of bags and bags of groceries. We don’t mess around in Wunna land. I hate grocery shopping, so i’ll thunder down each isle just throwing things in at the speed of light, simply to get it over with. There’s no ‘umming’ or ‘arring’ over the price of crumpets or whatever. I’m a snatch, grab and pay kinda girl. But I do love a bargain, so as soon as I see things that are reduced or only £1..it’s in my trolley. The problem is, everything seems to be around the £1 marker or reduced…meaning everything gets thrown in and I get judged whilst I do it. Then I get to the cashier, banter about my bump for a good while, ( I end up saying the same thing to everyone with a smile and nod) and then find out that i’ve accidentally overspent AGAIN, by throwing around 90 different things that cost around £1. Pahaha. I’m the worst grocery shopper ever. But whatever, at least we have food. Keiran will be boner galore when he gets in. I asked him whether he was excited to have sex with me again last night…and he answered with a ‘are you excited to have sex with me.’ A simple ‘Yes my Goddess, ‘ would’ve done. ‘You’re the sexiest thing ever and I want you always.’ He spent the night slapping my bum and pretending to cry hump me from behind as we cuddled on the sofa, in the living room, in the dark, yet this time without romantic comedies…but crime. He turns into a little boy when we cuddle and wants me to do everything for him, like peel his satumas and tickle his back and baby him. Rubes and Keiran are truly similar. They have this weird connection, to the point where it’s almost as if they were MEANT to be ‘Daddy and Daughter.’ Now, I know that’s a harsh thing to say, due to her having Pete around, who loves her very much. But because of the way things turned out, it’s sort of like Keiran’s become Dad because he’s the one that’s always there and doing everything for her and Pete has naturally become the Step Dad, because he chooses to see her once a week, at least for a full 7 hour day, but with no sleeping over and then does a nursery pick up on a Monday. He didn’t do yesterday’s and told me at the very last minute, which makes me mad. The thing about Pete is, he’ll say he’ll pick Rubes on and be all excited with bells on for the occasion…note that this is the day he has personally picked to pick her up. Then instead of being there by 5.30pm, I’ll get a call at 5.23pm saying ‘Oh Chrissie, I can’t do it, can you?’ So, now i feel bad because there’s me having previous arguments with Keiran about how he needs to stick to STEP dad duties, when he wants more responsibility and wants, if not fights to be there for Ruby, all the time. He wants to help make important ‘father’ decisions, whenever possible. But Pete, who is her biological Daddy and who loves her very much and lives on the next street to us, acts like a STEP dad and by CHOICE. I mean he only has to do one full day and a nursery pick up and they are days that he has chosen himself…and even that seems to much for him to handle. It’s annoying. I picked her up..after losing my cool with the situation. (I’m fun when i’m shouty.)
I actually had quite a rubbish day yesterday. i kept getting slagged off on line and when you’re a preggo, you get all heated about it and want to be all aggro back. In Hollywood, you’re allowed to state that ‘hater’s’ just hate simply because you’re doing something that they can’t do, or you have something that they want.’ You can express yourself freely and openly and KAPOW people will VA VOOM. In England, it’s different. If you do so, you’re sort of seen in an incorrect light, so instead you are guided and advised to ignore ‘hater’s and simply stay silent, make like they aren’t anything for you to waste your time on, flip your faux fur scarf around your shoulders, slip into your stilettos and continue to strut forward in good lighting. In Hollywood the successful people don’t have to apologise for being successfully and are allowed to be a bit boasty, as they are seen as inspirations and I agree…they are. But in good old blighty, the art of humility is a must and I don’t like it because just because you pretend to be humble doesn’t mean you are. There is no one in the entertainment industry, who is doing, or has done fabulously well, who has no ego. No-one. They may portray that they don’t…but that’s called PR. 🙂 It’s all work. I like to stay real, be real, and celebrate who I am. Sure, i’ll make mistakes and yes, I am rather feisty…but ‘m great and that’s what people need to focus on. 🙂 My utter Greatness.
Posted a piccie of my giant bump yesterday on my Facebook and Twitter. I need saving from it now because it’s HUGE. I have no idea how they are classing it as a ‘small baby.’ I’ve never been stretched this much in my entire life. Here’s the pic I posted, just before the health visitors came around for what ended up being a looong 2hr appointment. MY BUMP IS GIANT!! When is my son going to POP OUT for crying out loud. I’m not even overdue yet, so it’s not actually time. But JEEPERS…if he cooks anymore, i’ll need to get wheeled around in a buggy, like the obese folk in those US documentaries. Yet hopefully, i’l get wheeled around glamourously by half naked men dressed in Greek Togas, but knowing my Yorkshire luck, they’ll just be middle aged, moany women, who hate me. He is due. But I swaer on my life, he has never been so snug in my belly. I’m getting NO SIGNS of an arrival as of yet. He’s already being clingy. I just want to see him NOW. I mean we’re all so
excited, yet Keiran wants me to wait until our wardrobe and bed deliveries arrive, so we can decorate the rooms before his arrival. Great! lol. Priorities. 🙂 If he pops out before then, I’ll have to tell the midwife that I can’t possibly go through it just yet, as we’re still needing to colour co-ordinate bedroom curtains. (Why did that make me think of ‘beef curtains?’ I need to get my mind out of the gutter.) I don’t think i’m able to hold off now. I’m too desperate. (What a surprise.) When he’s away at the weekend working, i’m doing curry galore, with squats. I never squat so this must be serious.
Oh and here’s a piccie of the accidental ‘ill just nip in and buy a couple snacks’ that I purchased today. I’ve labelled the image ‘Tuesday’s Snacks.’ There is no way in HELL that I’m gonna lose my baby weight. I much preferred my ‘before preggo’ not much food and just wine. This actual food malarky, by the car boot load is just leaving me with no hope. 🙂 Ah well..fuck it.
Read more of my Youtube comments today that littered in inbox, of my labour home video, when I was ‘push-pushing’ Rub out 2 year ago. I love the people that decide to defend my honour and well the people who keep calling me hideous names…need to go through labour themselves, before they start bitty bantering.
I enjoy that one girl wrote:
‘Just because she had make up on during her delivery DOES NOT MAKE HER A WHORE. I thought that she handled this beautifully and she did a wonderful job giving birth to a healthy baby. Who cares if she has on make up or not?’
To get a reply saying:
‘…it seems so fake, she seems fake, WTF Girl ..’
I’m wasn’t faking labour. I was glamourously in PAIN! AND to smooth it all off nicely, I looked great. PLUS, i have living 2 year old proof that it wasn’t all set up for your entertainment, you foolish twallop. 🙂 I was in labour, it was a home video, there was no money shot.
Anyway, then the haters rambled on about how I looked ‘out of it, ‘ like I was on drugs. Answer: ‘I flipping WAS! I WAS GIVING BIRTH. I had a human coming out of my ‘lady part.’ I had had an epidural..and that’s DRUGS! THANK GOD!’ I should obviously rule the world. My peoples skills are amazing. I’ll stop now, as i’m getting all hectic for no proper reason :), and probably because I’m about to do it all over again…shortly…if my bump ever decides to venture out of my belly. (I have a double chin now and it’s disgusting, yet it seems to not be stopping me from eating another peanut butter sandwich?
….he wants me to find a yellow slip for him or something? It’s apparently an emergency. Fun!)
I had loads more that I wanted to tell you, but now i can’t remember it all. I can’t believe my ‘at home’ health visitors appointment was 2 hours long yesterday. I didn’t mind as i like entertaining health visitors for some reason. I like them to forget about examining me and start telling me all about their own lives. I found loads out. We talked about their children, domestic violence, babies, life , boobies and all sorts. I did actually receive some sound advice and yes random health visitor visits can be annoying if you’re not down in the dumps and your healthy, but it’s great for the women that are depressed, going through a difficult time during pregnancy and need help. Really great for women going through domestic violence and certainly a great system for women in need and i’m all about the welfare of women. We should be treasured…especially when carrying a child. The stories they told me actually moved me. I mean so many men are getting away with so much shit that they are putting on their pregnant spouses. It’s awful. They told me the reasons why men bully pregnant women, or in fact women in general, how it makes them feel to abuse women and how men wrongly think that it is only abuse if they have ‘hit’ a women. This isn’t true, an aggressive grab, or shove, or even no physical contact and simply VERBAL abuse, with emotional abuse, or financial abuse, ALL COUNTS. They can go to prison for it! So, if you are a women going through any of the above…you must get help because it’s there for you. The worst thing you can do is be frightened and not alert the correct people who can help. The way to deal with worthless men is to put them in their place, so they know that messing with you is no joke.
There you go. Ended on a strong note. Saving women a wink at a time.
I sooo need my weave tightening at the weekend. It’s baggy again.