Tuesday, 18 August 2009
Here's a little questionnaire from my lovely fellow blogger Nappy Valley Girl, all about writing.
Which words do you use too much in your writing?
So, though and annoying. Oh, and I use far too many, er, Hmmm, Mmm, etc etc.
Which words do you consider overused in stuff you read?
The words recession and Jordan seem to be cropping up a lot in the things I read, which hints at my kind of reading habits.
What's your favourite piece of writing by you?
Hmmm, I am quite critical of things I write and am always astounded that anyone reads them. Although this is not my funniest, it means a lot to me as it's about the first day my daughter started big school.
What blog post do you wish you'd written?
There are so many I LOVE, including Nappy Valley who passed this Meme on. Not Enough Mud and her tales of single life and dating is a blog that pulls me in every time. Many blogs have reduced me to tears. But the one I have chosen is Millennium Housewife. Her lists are funny and original. The post I have picked is about hormones and having another baby. Hilarious and touching at the same time. She also gets 40 odd comments for her blogs, so I bow down to her.
What is the strangest thing you have ever been asked to write about?
The joys of quickie sex by Arena when I had a six week old baby. It never made it to press...my first ever kill fee. Sob.
Name three favourite words...
Enlighten, Mummy, fabulous.
And three words you're not so keen on?
Pubic, discharge, moist (writing sex features has obviously haunted me!)
Do you have a writing mentor, role model or inspiration?
Helen Fielding, you have to admit Bridget Jones summed up the feeling of millions of women at exactly that time. Louisa M Alcott because Little Women was the first book I read over and over again. I wanted to be Jo. Lynn Barber writes fantastic interviews in The Observer, Shane Watson always seems to say what I'm thinking in her columns, Andrew Clover makes me laugh out loud in bed every Sunday when I read his parenting column in the Sunday Times Style magazine, he also has a great book out called Dad Rules. Judy Blume writes fantastically for teenagers. Are You There God? It's Me Margaret, was my saviour when my parents were going through a divorce and I'd started my periods. Truman Capote, his writing style is known as 'new journalism' a cross between modern journalism and literature. He wrote the wonderful Breakfast At Tiffany's and In Cold Blood. There are so many more I could list, but I fear I am boring you now...
What is your writing ambition?
Doesn't everyone want to write a novel? To be able to tell a long story, structure it correctly, use perfect grammar, be entertaining, funny and get a whopping life changing advance. We can all dream.
I am going to pass this on to Millennium Housewife, as she is pretty rubbish at these things, but you never know. My friend Mom or Mum Wars if she has time to do it when she's in Spain, and finally Not Enough Mud, if she has enough time as she is jetting off to the US in a quest to marry eternal bachelor George Clooney. Good luck girl!
Thursday, 13 August 2009
We went to the beach last weekend and whilst there, I kept needing the loo.
The next morning I burst into tears, over nothing. Proper sobbing. And I still needed to wee. A lot.
Hmmm, I thought. The last time I felt like this....
I remember. The last time I felt like this...I was up the duff/with child/bun in the oven/PREGNANT.
My tummy flipped.
I headed off to Boots and purchased two pregnancy kits.
Just cheapy ones, their own brand. All the time thinking, nah, this isn't happening. I am imagining things.
I peed on the stick.
As the wee slowly absorbs up the stick, I'm thinking, 'This is so going to be negative. What a waste of money.'
A minute later.
Hello big blue cross. You appear to be telling me I'm pregnant.
Houston, we have a problem.
Or more like, husband, we have messed up.
Now, the other times I was pregnant, we had been trying, ooh for all of two seconds, but both were much wanted babies. This time, we hadn't been trying, just being very amorous. Using our preferred method of coitus interruptus, which has worked well so far for two and a half years.
Am I mad? Am I a teenager? Do I not understand the withdrawal method is far from reliable! Why, oh, why didn't I go for the coil?
This isn't in my life plan!
OK, so secretly I kind of like the idea of three children, but husband is so firmly against it, I have resigned myself to the fact it's never going to be, got used to it and imagined my life as a working woman from September when my littlest starts pre school three mornings a week.
I felt sick.
I wasn't sure I wanted this baby and that made me feel bad.
The others were so wanted.
What if I resented this baby because it was a mistake?
After baby number two I bled so badly for 9 weeks, the after pains were horrendous and it took two years to feel I could break wind without worrying, so bad were the piles (apologies people, too much detail).
Could my poor body cope with being turned inside out again?
Could I give three children the attention they need and deserve?
We would be poor.
We would be cramped.
I took the second test upstairs just to make sure.
I peed again.
Negative. No sign of a cross.
Hmmmmm. This has happened before. With baby number two I tested positive, negative, positive, negative and then positive again.
Next day, I buy two more tests, this time expensive ones. Test again. Negative.
OK. Feeling calmer now. Next morning I do the next one. It's negative again.
I go online. Still says if you get a positive you are very likely to be pregnant, as a false positive is so rare. I wait a few days, my period is bound to start. A week later, no sign of the decorators visiting.
I fork out for two more tests (they all seem to come in twin packs now).
Right that's it. If I was pregnant, it would definitely show up by now.
The weird thing is that by this time I am feeling sad.
I would quite like a baby. In fact, I really want to be pregnant and have a baaaaaaaaaaabbbby!!
I had talked myself into it. I was EXCITED. I was already thinking names and deciding the colour of the nursery.
Finally my period arrived. Ten days after the positive test.
It was such a weird feeling. A mixture of relief and utter sadness.
Two weeks after the event, I am being more practical. Perhaps in a year, I may try to persuade my husband to impregnate me. In the mean time, I must ask Boots for the £30 I spent on pregnancy tests back, as their test was quite clearly faulty...But for now, I am very thankful for the two gorgeous girls I already have.
Saturday, 1 August 2009
Today I went shopping.
It was revolutionary.
And here is why...
* In the car I could have the music on a radio station I like at top volume without protests of, 'turn it down,' 'I don't like this music' or, 'can we have the snake is in the grass one?'
* I parked on level two, gliding straight into a space, instead of circling continuously around the parent and toddler parking bays and then I could walk down several flights of stairs because I didn't have a buggy. Did you hear that? I could walk down stairs. I haven't walked down car park stairs in a long time. I forgot, they generally smell of wee.
* I walked straight out of my car to the wee stairs without shouting 'STOOOOOOOPPPPP!' whilst yanking a little girls arm. I actually only had to look out for myself and luckily I know that in a car park there are cars, and cars can run you over if you walk in front of them.
* I could look around shops without saying/shouting, 'Put that down.', 'No, you can't have any sparkly shoes.', 'Stop hiding in the clothes rails.' 'Stop touching the clothes.' 'No we are not going up the escalator again.''Where is your little sister?' 'Don't wipe your bogey there thank you.' 'Yes, she's mine. Thank you. Sorry about that.' 'Yes, you can have some apple/mini cheddars/cookies if you just stop calling me Mummy for five minutes.'
* I managed to buy a whole outfit for a wedding from one shop. Yes, you heard me. A dress, some shoes and a vintage cardi because I had time to try them all on and get some great advice from the sales assistant, who btw, I wanted to keep with me forever more as my personal stylist. And I told her. I think she thought I don't get out much. She is right. Well, not without children anyway.
* I then managed to saunter around the farmers market without anyone pulling at me, demanding a cupcake, touching lavender, taking a bite out of a bell pepper or saying, is it time to go home now?
* I even managed to go into the supermarket without buying a princess magazine, a bag of buttons and some gingerbread men to decorate. I just got exactly what I needed, nothing more, nothing less.
* Although I could have as much time as I needed, I actually got all this done in an hour and a half at a leisurely pace, due to the fact I didn't have a buggy, two children and a miserable husband loitering along about a metre behind me.
I skipped back to the car, whistling with happiness at my brilliant and productive mornings shopping.
When I arrived home I did a little fashion parade of my purchases feeling ultra pleased with myself.
He said, 'Aren't you going to be too hot in that?'
And from the little girls, 'Why do you always buy dresses that are black?'
That was just the sound of my bubble bursting.
Back to real world.