Wedding Shenanigans

On Saturday we attended another wedding, this time with my friend and work colleague Q and her husband. I'm sure that the boyf and her husband were feeling nervous as they know how much we can misbehave...and we certainly didn't let them down...

The wedding was due to start at 12.30 "European Time not Sierra Leone Time" it specified on the invite. The boyf was still in the shower at 12.30 and at 12.45, Q called to say that they were in the pub. When we finally rocked up at 2pm with the bambino in tow, the wedding had only started ten minutes beforehand... Of course by then, the bambino was due for a feed and after cooing along (yet again) during the vows, she went into one of her hunger hissy fits and I had to rush her out of the church. As I fed her in the car, an elderly man took a good peek at my boob in the car and when he passed it he looked back, so I yelled out the window "Are you getting a good enough view?!" He quickened his pace and there was no more looking back!

As luck would have it, we were all sitting together and we had a good giggle whilst the bambino had a snooze in her car seat. As the speeches started, the bambino woke up, so the boyf and his bro whisked her off. Admittedly us ladies were a bit bored with the speeches which seemed to go on forever because they were open mic. However, much giggling ensued when the bride opened up her speech by thanking her boss (Q's husband) for coming along at the top of her speech! As we continued to snort with laughter, he gave us one of those warning looks, so we calmed ourselves down. Then an elderly woman did a heartfelt speech and at the end, we heard Q say "Ooh, she rhymed!" which made us collapse in giggles again.

AM, my future sister-in-law and I became engrossed in a whispered conversation with one ear on the speeches, when we both froze in horror as the words took root in our mind. "...she has waited eleven years...both have waited...she came to me when there were problems in the relationship. At one point things were not working out between them....Told her to have faith in the Lord and not to lose her virtue..." Q, AM, and I looked at each other in horror and I looked around at the guests and felt the air being sucked out of the room. Q and AM were clutching me and we were trying so hard not to laugh. This woman had just told the entire wedding party that the bride was a virgin and was pretty much airing out their private dirty laundry in public! Then the words of the groom "We have waited a very long time for this day..." and the father of the bride "I asked her what she wanted to do now that she had graduated and she said she wanted to get married and I told her NO" all came rushing back to me. At the first opportunity, we made a hasty exit from the room so that we could let out the pent-up laughter.

After dropping the bambino home to her grandpa (we didn't waste much time in availing of his babysitting services) we headed back to the reception with AM and the boyf's bro. Q had been carted off home as she was quite drunk after being on the vino since lunchtime, so it was left to AM and I to pick up the troublesome reins. I leaped to my feet when I heard MJ and we hit the dancefloor, checking to make sure the boyf wasn't looking before breaking out a few MJ moves. We were the only people on the dancefloor so it was quite funny when people started clapping. The DJ was pretty awful so nobody danced very much, and it's unfortunate that we'll be remembered as the girls who raced up to the dancefloor when LL Cool J's "Doin It" and Akon's "I wanna love you" which turned out to be "I wanna %$*% you"... Clearly I was overexcited by being out as I even danced on my own at our table whilst we waited for AM to return from the bathroom before we left.

We decided to go home and as we said our goodbyes, AM and I stopped to talk to the groom who was in his evening garb of traditional African dress. His mother was standing behind him in a long evening dress with a fishtail (not literally) that would have done Crystal Carrington from Dynasty proud. As we chatted, I found myself staring through the cut-outs of his top and seeing his nipples and chest hair. Before I knew it, I heard a mental thought becoming a verbal one as I said "Oooh, you don't have anything on underneath your top!" He and his mother stared at me in amusement as AM and I started to howl with laughter. Thank goodness they were good humoured about it as AM and I were carted off by our boyfriends. Outside, the boyf and his bro were cracking up laughing as we recounted the days entertainment. As we tried to pull out of our parking space, a woman advised us that a car had broken down and we'd have to maneuver around it and for some reason this made us laugh even harder.

At home as my head swam and tried to get out of my heels, I said to the boyf "I didn't make a show of you did I?" and he laughed and said "God no. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself!" and as I wobbled around he added "Will I help you upstairs..." and I thought 'Thank God I have a boyfriend who is chilled out and let's me be myself' followed very quickly by 'Hmmm, I wonder if they're consummating their marriage yet....'

Is My Bra An ATM?

At 11.30 on Friday night, I walked out of restaurant with five other women that I met through my National Childbirth Trust (NCT)antenatal class. It was our first proper night out since having our babies and it was supposed to be a night on the razz but we appeared to be finishing early, and whilst people had drunk, they hadn't drunk very much. "So where do we get taxi's?" I asked and they all looked slightly embarrassed. "Oh X and Y are driving...." and I suddenly acknowledged that the cliquey vibe that I had been trying to ignore could be ignored no longer. One of them very hurriedly offered to come back into the restaurant with me to call a taxi and made a half hearted offer of waiting with me, but I quickly told them that it was OK for them to go and said my goodbyes.

In the taxi on the way home a few tears plopped down my cheeks as I smarted from what had happened. They were probably vino tears propelled by the few glasses of wine I'd had... I got home and spoke briefly with the boyf and the lads who were having a poker night and quickly took myself off to bed. I lay there for a while playing back the evening and some of our previous get togethers (we meet up each Wednesday - all around England, women who met through National Childbirth Trust (NCT) antenatal classes tend to meet up each week) in my mind till the boyf came to bed. He put his arms around me and said "Do you want to wait till tomorrow or do you want to tell me now?"

I told him about feeling like a complete dick outside the restaurant and realising how they'd organised amongst themselves without a care in the world for me. How one of the women (from South Africa) described being held up by black people at her business and them searching her bra for money. "Stupid people think thought that I had money in there. They forget that it's black women that carry their money in their bras. White women carry theirs in handbags." Do you know that not ONE person flinched from that comment? I described how I'd been at one of the get together's and come back downstairs from using the bathroom and caught the tail end of two of them arranging to meet up a couple of days later. "Will we do our usual meet up?"asked one of them. "Yeah, let's. Where do you want to meet?" "Shall we meet at..." and as I approached she gave her a warning look and tried to style it out and pretend that she was talking about something else. I didn't say anything and I couldn't have given a monkeys that they were meeting up. It was the weird secretive conversation and pretending to be talking about something else that let me know that she was afraid I'd want to be included. What are we? 7! Or how about when I first met up with them after having the bambino and some of them were being strange with me because she slept through most of the afternoon. One asked how she was sleeping at night and I was foolishly honest and said that she was sleeping really well. She looked at me with a tight face and snidely said "Ha! Let's see how long THAT lasts for!"

The boyf understood where I was coming from - He has previously expressed concern about the cliqueness - and he was upset for me as I shed tears at what feels like a weird rejection from people I don't know particularly well, and it's made all the more odd that we all met at the same time. I do live in a different area that's not far from them, which may have contributed to me being on put on the edge, but that doesn't make me feel any better. At the end of the day, it's not about wanting to be Miss Popular, it's more about not wanting to put myself in an uneccessary situation.

I happen to know I'm not on my own. The stories I have heard about NCT bitchiness are rife and I realise that motherhood and what you do with your baby, whether you breastfeed and are good at it, whether your baby is content, sleeps through the night, your clothes, your boyfriend/husband and any other thing that they feel like putting up to scrutiny means that I have now entered into an adult highschool. It's not a competition for me. The thought of people comparing baby weights, how well they feed, when they roll over, sit up, walk, talk etc just makes me cringe yet I know that it will happen regardless. I thought that hanging out with people who were going through the same life stage and experience was great but it's just another way for women to be bitchy. I'm 30 years old (jaysus I really am 30) and I'm too old for this bullshit. I know I'll never be able to escape the bitchiness that can sometimes be dished out by women but I'm not about to put myself in the frontline of it every week, just so I can say that I hang out with some new mothers and their babies and pretend that I fit in.

I'm not an over-sensitive person and I'm not going to keep soul searching and asking "What did I say? What did I do?!' because at the end of the day, breathing, existing, and being happy is hardly a crime. Women find all sorts of reasons to be cliquey and it doesn't have to be about me per se. At the end of the day, we're all adults and I'm glad that these people have found friendships and closeness. Being on the edge of a clique just isn't a nice feeling and I have so much going on in my life and much to enjoy and be happy about that it seems pointless to be uncomfortable with people that were unknown to me 4 months ago just for the sake of the fact that we've all had babies and become mothers.

As for the casual racism, I'm not going to second guess what was meant by that generalisation and whether it was or wasn't racist. All I know is that considering that I am the one black person at that dinner table, you need to be some kind of crackerjack to think that I will be comfortable with that comment...I actually said to the boyf "Do you think she's one of those people that doesn't 'see' me as one of 'those black people' or should I just consider myself lucky that when I've been at her house she hasn't asked me to come by the back door!?!" We were cracking up laughing in the bed and I knew that I would be fine and that the upset would fade. Just as I was nodding off I said "Maybe next time I see her I should pull some twenties out of my bra...." and the rest! Doesn't she realise that this black woman practically takes everything but the kitchen sink in HER handbag?!

Do I Have to Be Around When You Air Your Dirty Laundry?

On Saturday we went to a BBQ with our usual cohorts. It's normally pretty relaxed, with our bambino's in tow and plenty of giggling and pisstaking. Whilst we had fun, I have to admit that this time it was different as there were some guests that were very full on. Much as I may take the piss out of our men, the boyf would be mortified if I spoke to him like a dog in public (or in private for that matter) and aired any problems in public. I just wouldn't dream of behaving like this anyway because not only is it disrespectful but if he did it to me, his nuts wouldn't know what hit them...

For the whole evening, we were treated to this woman antagonising the husband about the fact that he hadn't married her yet. Nevermind the fact that she was already pregnant with their second child. At first I thought it was kind of funny because she was so blunt and he just seemed to tune out of her frequency, but as the evening progressed she just seemed to get more aggressive about it and occurred to me that this woman wasn't messing around. They had their kid with them who was a bundle of energy and didn't stop moving and touching stuff. We might as well have referred to him as 'DOOOON'T touch that or you're getting the wooden spoon!'... She tried to get the dad to take him off her hands and sent him outside to him. We were chatting away when the little boy mysteriously materialised in the sitting room (we were on the 1st floor of an apartment block). She looked absolutely livid because clearly she wanted a break and no word of a lie, she opened up the sitting room window and roared down to her boyfriend like a fisherwoman "DON'T THINK THAT YOU'RE FUNNY YOU KNOW!!!! JUST DON'T! I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING! DON'T MESS WITH ME! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO HAVE YOUR SON DOWN THERE AND YOU THINK YOU'RE FUNNY SENDING HIM BACK UP HERE! YOU'LL SEE! COME AND GET YOUR SON!"

I watched this unfold open mouthed and then I did what I always do in awkward situations where I feel nervous and had a terrible fit of the giggles. Then I caught my friend T's eye and she looked like she was going to bust a gut from holding in her laughter and we both started to laugh even harder. I tell you - Some women really know how to get GANGSTA with their partners!

We had a laugh but the evening was not our usual relaxed vibe and at one point when she snapped at her husband for saying that if he could turn back time ten years he'd stay in his home country with "Don't think that you could knock up a woman back home and not marry her there!", I wanted the ground to open up and swallow us all. Instead, recognising that the carpet wasn't about to give way to all of us, I ran into the kitchen and hid in there with T. We were laughing but cringing at the same time. The boyf of course was completely oblivious because he was watching the football, cricket, and golf. I had to explain to him what had happened even though he had been sitting in the same room! Honestly, you can't take him anywhere! But the fact that he watched so much TV whilst we were out suggested that on some level he knew that there was tension and 'tuned' out...

In other news, the bambino has taken to shrieking with joy by way of greeting us, and sometimes when she's about to go to sleep or just woken up. The boyf and I are pleased that she is so vocal and happy but find it quite strange when she does it 4am... When she does it just after waking up and it's dark, I do have to wonder what on earth can be entertaining her so much. But this is a child who has been focused on eating her hands for the past two weeks and who also sucks her tongue, much to the amusement of onlookers. She's clearly going to be a chatterbox..just like her dad (I say), just like her mum (he says) as she makes lots of sounds and if you mimic them, she gets very excited and does even more sounds. So far she has reduced both of her grandmothers to watery eyes with her chatting antics... As long as she doesn't grow up shrieking out of windows at her boyfriend like a fisherwoman on crack...she can shriek to her hearts content!

I'm Overdue - Can I send the baby a red bill?

Just so that I get to dispel any unnecessary potential excitement caused by a lack of blog post, where some may think that I have popped the bambino...I haven't. I can barely believe after all the predictions of the bambino arriving early because of my size of bump, small frame and pre-labour pains (everyone else's words)...I'm now two days overdue. When I say I was inundated with messages and calls on my due date (the 18th), I kid you not. The phone started ringing at 7am - Have I mentioned that I'm a grumpy bitch first thing in the morning? The boyf, who already gets twitchy whenever the phone rings, was still answering calls and messages late into Friday night and the snowball continues...

He has taken to calling out 'Honey, are you in labour?' when we're in different rooms. I've warned him that for each time he says it, I will dig my nails in his arm and give him Chinese burns during my labour!

I am pleased to say that after almost four months of being pissed around by our estate agents and our buyer and seller, we are moving on the 29th May. In a weird turn of events, we exchanged contracts on our house on Friday (the bambino's due date). Whilst we are pleased, it was difficult for us to feel jubilant because we're close to two months late moving and we despise nearly everyone in our chain. We feel like we'll never move again, which of course is a lie, but buying and selling property in the UK involves having to deal with nob jockeys that take your money and put out very little effort in return, whilst wrecking your head and telling lots of porkies. I still have not gotten over coming home and discovering that our tosser of a sales rep had decided to put his feet up, watch TV and then accidentally pause it so that I discovered what a lazy little twat he was. When we write our feedback, I must remember to write "Next time we have somewhere to sell, I'll be sure to let you guys do it and this time, why not root through my drawers, try on my underwear, and sleep in my frigging bed?!"

So I have reached another milestone in my life - I am officially a homeowner. We own a 3 bedroom Victorian family home with garden that the boyf has big ideas about changing (I have rarely seen him pick up a tool for DIY, never mind garden clippers....) and I do feel rather pleased and I would feel a building excitement, if it wasn't for the fact that it feels like the bambino just headbutted my pubic bone....

We ended up having an impromptu gathering at the flat last night. I seem to remember that the idea was that the boyf's bro was coming around to help bring more of the stuff we've packed down to the garage. Instead there were no boxes brought downstairs, and there were 10 of us (2 of them being 4 months and 7...) sitting around eating food prepared by the boyf's bro and having a great laugh. The boys as usual spent most of the evening in the kitchen, talking boy doo doo, and us girls hogged the sitting room. One of the girls and I spent most of the evening trying to convince the most innocent one that she would make a great sex toy seller - you know like Ann Summers or Pleasure Parties where you go to peoples homes. She was having none of it though - she claims that when she has been to sex toy parties, it's the sexy pillows and sheets that have got her excited. Boring!

The boyf was quite pissed by the time everyone left. "I'm weally drushhhnk. If you go into labour now, we'll have to get a taxi..." and then he passed out. I was tempted to pretend, but he looked too cute for me to get his hopes up!

The boyf asked earlier "What if you had a painless labour in your sleep and you woke up and found the baby there?" I just stared at him silently. Sometimes men have no clue. I was especially entertained by all of the guys who suggested that I take whatever pain relief is going when I'm labour in the previous posts comments. Clearly they have much experience!

How Now Brown Moody Cow

I have been a moody bitch from hell for the past couple of days but thankfully it's starting to taper off now. I'm impressed that it's taken me till the 39th week to become properly hormonal and demanding that the bambino comes out, but the poor boyf hasn't known what to do with me. "Everybody else is having their baby! WHY AREN'T I? IT'S NOT FAIR!" and fair play to the boyf, he pissed himself laughing. "NML, it is not a competition. This is one of those things where you can't get competitive!"

The bro spent a few hours with us yesterday which was entertaining. "Where is our baby?" he demanded as soon as he came through the door - seemingly me having a baby means that everyone is having a baby... At least he's not like my mum who refers to it as her baby... "Have you tried eating curries? I hear that's good! Let's see if we can get the bambino to arrive whilst I'm here!" he said excitedly. The boyf and I were cracking up laughing. "Oh yeah!" I said. "I KNOW that if I went into labour now, you'd be out that door and on your bike so fast!" The bro can barely even handle the words 'period' or 'tampon', yet he expected me to believe that he'd stick around for labour???

The boyf: NML, did you tell him about that time when we went up to the hospital?
NML: Er...no...(warning look)
The boyf: You didn't tell him about that time when you thought your waters had broken? (This was about two weeks ago)
The Bro: What happened? Had you pissed yourself?! (And he fell around laughing)
NML: No I hadn't you cheeky f*ck! Let's just say it was a false alarm and leave it at that ALRIGHT!?! (shoot the boyf murderous looks) By the way, how are ma and her boyfriend getting on? Are you calling him daddy yet? (I thoroughly enjoyed watching the bro squirm)
The Bro: I told you I don't want to HEAR IT! Fine, I'll shut up now...

The boyf did a plaster cast of my bump last night. The bambino, who seems to hate any type of restriction, went nuts whilst the cast was on my stomach, kicking away like a little maniac. The boyf claimed he felt like an artiste as he laid out the wet strips of plaster bandage which is nice for him as I felt like a mummified punchbag! When he took the cast off he said "Hmmm, I could see this as a fruitbowl!" When it's ready I will photograph it, ideally minus any fruit in it....

I ventured into central London to get my hair done on Saturday as I woke up from a dream on Friday where I went into labour with my hair all jacked up. Much like the dream where my mum says that she's a woman with needs (as in pleasure ones...), I woke up clutching myself in fright and made an appointment first thing. Bearing in mind that I have hardly anything left to wear and have to wear my jeans with the zip undone and a scarf through the loop, this was a risky business, especially when you don't tie them properly and try to expose yourself.... Of course I got to London Bridge and I thought my bladder would explode. Fortunately the Tube people were lovely and let me use their staff toilets, making a right fanfare out of it. "Let this lady through. She looks like she's ready to give birth any minute!" one of them yelled. Er, thanks! I was singing their praises to myself but that became short-lived when I realised that they had given me directions for a journey that couldn't be done because the piddling Tube line was closed! Thirty minutes of waddling backwards and forwards muttering swearwords to myself!

3.5 days to go till my due date. This truly is the waiting game... I'm off to eat a Mars Icecream....

Crack of Dawn

It's just after 5am and I've been awake for over an hour and a half. I'd bitch about having broken sleep but it seems stupid considering that I'm likely to have broken sleep for the next few years... Clearly I'm practicing for when the bambino arrives, whereas the boyf can't seem to get enough sleep and is sleeping for England. He's normally the night owl and we're in some weird role reversal. I have relied on BBC News 24 as my sleeping tablet for the past few years. If I can't sleep, all I need to do is put it on and 10-15 minutes later I'm out for the count. But the bastard has failed me for the first time.

However, I chose the right moment to get out of bed because within a minute of coming into the sitting room, the boyf let a ripper of a fart out...

I'm 39 weeks pregnant today - One week to go till the official due date. I will probably have cracked up by then as I'm starting to feel impatient. One of the girls from my NCT class (antenatal) had her baby on Wednesday. She was due two days before me. We were only bitching about our early labour pains the day before! I even had contractions for a couple of hours at a time, twice yesterday, but nothing. I'm like "Either fecking stop giving me pains or start the labour!" Two weeks of this BS early labour pain and I'm now practically begging for my va-jay-jay to be put through the most traumatic thing of its life. Well, not that the va-jay-jay has a life...trust me...

Ma: You don't call me anymore. [cue Barbara Streisand 'You don't bring me flowers']
NML: Er, last I recall, YOU said that you had a busy week and that you'd call me.
Ma: I did? Oh... Well you could've called me.... [cue violins]
NML: Last I heard, I'M the one whose PREGNANT and due to give birth!

I must point out - I'm not going to stop doing this blog. I was just going to change the banner and title from Tired of Men to something else!

Much Ado About Crackness

No I haven't given birth yet... OK, so that's out of the way until I get the usual daily texts, emails, and phonecalls... Oh the joys of being about to pop!

Anyhooo...I dragged myself up into central London again on Thursday as I had a friend visiting from Dublin. Whereas before many people would rugby tackle me to get in front of me to get on the Tube or grab a seat, now when I approach it's like the parting of the red sea. I was not impressed when I got to Oxford Circus, hoisted myself out of the seat and turned just in time to see two men pointing at my bump! Now I have no idea what they were saying, but have they never heard that saying 'It's rude to point'? Or is it 'It's rude to f*cking point?' It's been a while since I've done my I Hope Your Nuts Shrivel to The Size of Walnuts glare and I enjoyed seeing the hand shrink back. Yes I'm hormonal and yes, maybe that was a bit bitchy, but it's better than what could have come out of my mouth if I had dared to speak!

My ma chewed the ear off me (not literally) for an hour whilst draining my brain for man advice. Isn't this some weird role reversal? Shouldn't she be advising me about men? Or at least how to ensure that her daughter manages to give birth without ripping herself to bits (sorry for any trauma caused by that last line...)? She's still seeing the guy from the baby shower, or at least she was when I last spoke to her. It's like having a mother with teen angst. My ma is me multiplied by a million with a hell of a lot less tact, so even though I'd been inclined to think that 'Daddy G' is a no good, cocky, too old to be a playa but he'll give it a try, lothario, I couldn't help feeling vaguely sorry for him being on the end of her earache. As she explained her gripes (apparently he used up all the hot water after she told him not to and he says 'Innit'), I had to say 'Are you on flipping crack? Seriously, you should hear yourself! Are you deranged?' to which she replied 'I've told you to stop calling me a crackhead...'

On top of her dating dramas, the bro is pretending that 'Daddy G' doesn't exist which is creating mucho tension. A recent conversation with the bro about the situation went something like this:

NML: So about mum and the...
The Bro: No...I don't want to hear it!
NML: But you don't even know what I..
The Bro: No, no, no, no, NO! I'm not hearing it! They don't exist!
NML: Don't you think that y........?
The Bro: I am warning you! If you say that man's name I..
NML: Alright, but don't you think you're being a bit melodra..
The Bro: I don't give a f*ck. Do you have any idea what it's like living with your mother and having that smirking, muther..(insert a hell of a lot of expletives)
NML: Well it's not like they're d...
The Bro: NOOOOOOOOOOO! I'm not having this conversation anymore!

In the early hours of the following morning, I woke up startled from a dream where my ma said "Well NML, a woman needs pleasure!" I woke up clutching myself in horror and grabbed at the boyf, who in turn woke up in a panic because he thought I was going into labour! When I told him about the dream, he howled with laughter and when I added in the conversation with the bro, we were both crying with laughter!

I appreciate that my ma wants companionship and all that jazz, but it's be great if she could do it without the drama. I used to have a serial case of bad taste in men and had more dodgy chat ups, encounters and dates than I care to remember, and now it's like my mum is morphing into an exaggerated version of my old self. Or is that I got it from her? Or heaven forbid, have I taught my mum to be crap at dating?!

On a slightly different subject, I'm still trying to figure out what to do with this blog, but I am seriously considering changing the title to 'Are you on crack?' Hmmm, if I can hold off on giving birth, I'll make a decision this week.

The Boyf and I Do Antenatal Giggles

I've been a busy bee for the past few days and I've almost forgotten about my ma having a hot date with the builder she met the day before at my baby shower... I say almost because a certain naughty Vulture Boy did make some wisecracks about whether my mother had got an 'extension' from her date. Perish the thought!

Yesterday the boyf and I went to the second of our two part intensive antenatal class with the NCT (National Childbirth Trust) and of course, it couldn't pass without entertainment.

NML: Why is there two streams of milk shooting out of that woman's nipple? Is there something wrong with her?
NCT Instructor: I see I have yet another pupil who thinks that nipples only have one hole in them...

Entire class looks at her blankly and she has to acknowledge that nobody knew that nipple, I mean nugget of information.

The Boyf: So let's say you were having sex. Could milk come out? *looks visibly pained*
NCT Instructor: Yes because sex releases oxytocins like the ones that release breast milk.
NML: Anyway...you're hoping.... Who said anything about you getting any sex? *cracks up laughing*

NML: Seriously, I feel like I'm going to pass out. *The NCT Instructor was discussing stitches and when they go wrong*

The Boyf: What if she's an agressive drunk? *His response to the NCT Instructor explaining gas and air and the rather hardcore pethidene. The whole class looked at me like I was a trouble making pisshead*
NML: Whatever. I take the piss and do Michael Jackson when I'm drunk!
NCT Instructor: I suspect that won't be happening for this occasion....

NML: I forget what an epidural is. Is it like what my mum had in the 70s when she had me? Something to do with putting something up your bum and soapy water? Oops, I just realised that was an enema! *Everyone is falling around laughing*

Just Call Me Daddy/When Mothers Turn Baby Showers into Hot Dates

Yesterday I had a baby shower thrown for me and of course no occasion could be complete without a bit of mama antics. Am I the only person to ever have a baby shower where her mother decided to combine it with having a hot first date?!

I found out about my ma's date G, when she called me up yesterday morning to ask if it was OK (to be fair she'd already invited him) and explained that he was a builder that she'd met through her work. Of course I wasn't going to object but she did mention that the bro was livid with her. I was already distracted so I didn't ask any questions and quickly got off the phone.

The next time I thought of G was when my ma brought him outside to introduce us and I happened to be standing with several friends and the bro.

"This is my daughter, and NML, this is G, friend and builder" she said gaily and I shook his hand and tried not to meet the eyes of my friends for fear of giggling.
"And THIS is my son, the one that said 'Mum, what are you bringing that builder to the party for?'"
The bro froze and his face became blank as he pretended that the two of them didn't exist but it was too late because we were all falling around laughing. I looked at my ma and G and she was grinning like a cheshire cat and he seemed to be loving all of the attention. They were barely out of earshot when the bro hissed at us "Can you believe that they f*cking met when he came to do a building quote yesterday?!" and this time he was laughing too as everybody tried to laugh their way out of shock.

I went into the house a little while later and found my ma chatting very cosily with G. There was a lot of giggling and flirting and I just felt thankful that we were all outside enjoying the BBQ and the sunshine. I raised my eyebrows at the two of them and gave my ma that look that said "Behave yourself" and being the pisstaker that she is, she saw the opportunity to wind me up.

"Say hi to your new daddy!" she said with a giggle.
I looked around me and said "Who?"
"G - How would you feel about him being your new daddy?" she wisecracked, just as the bro walked in and glared at the two of them. "Now!" she said looking at the bro. "Show some respect to your new daddy!" she quipped and B and I started snickering at the showdown that we sensed.
"Only if he lasts a week...." the bro replied drily. B and I were nearly in hysterics laughing when we saw their faces.
"THE BRO! I'M WARNING YOU!" my mum said, now starting to sound slightly nervous.
"What? It's true. Don't worry G, you have a seven day cooling off period!" he quipped and now we were all laughing.

We finally left them and went back to stuffing our faces outside. I relayed the story to the boyf who was clutching himself laughing and of course my ma was now providing the entertainment... The bro left about an hour later without too much drama but admittedly quite a few barbed comments were directed at my ma. After he left, I figured it would all be calm without any more drama....till I went into the house and discovered that there was no sign of them.

I demanded to know her whereabouts and was told that she had gone out the front. I walked out of the house and turned to go out to the street and froze when I saw my ma and G giggling, looking very cosy with their arms around each other. I didn't even think before I spoke. "MA! What the HELL do you think you're doing?!" I exclaimed and we all stood there staring at each other.
"NML!" my ma said and she looked nervous yet mischevious as she started to extricate herself out of his embrace.
"GET.IN.SIDE." I said icily.
"NML!" she said laughing. "It's OK, we're just talking."
"I don't frigging care. And G, would you mind taking your hands off my MOTHER!?!" and stalked back into the house.

After that my ma knew she was on thin ice with me. It wasn't that I wanted to piss on her parade, but having a first date at my baby shower and acting like randy teenagers was NOT what I had in mind. I thought this was when she would have been in the proud grandmother role!

She left an hour or so later with G escorting her. I was polite to him but kept my distance as I felt that he was enjoying the discomfort which isn't exactly a sign of him sticking around and ingratiating himself with her family... "Make sure my ma gets home safely because if she doesn't, I WILL be calling the PO-lice!" I said half jokingly. The boyf said goodbye to him and wisecracked "So should I start calling you Uncle G after today?" and G replied with a big dirty smirk "No....just call me Daddy G!"

In other non randy teenager related activity, the boyf's mum had her friend bless the food before we all started. I was expecting a quick grace but I hadn't realised that she was a reverand and she proceeded to sing and then break into lengthy prayer. Two or three minutes later, I started to break out in a hot flush and clutched at the boyf's hand. Once it was over, everyone dived on the food and Vulture boy said to me "Jeez, I thought she was going to start praying for the #2 bus any minute!" Hilarious!

Sex Kitten Achieves Clown Status

So clearly I should have read some of the comments on my previous post before trying to reignite my sex kitten status... After getting out of the shower, I decided to put on my va-va-voom Victoria Secret silk nightdress, or should I say negligee. Considering that I'm one week away from being 9 months pregnant and I had just got out of the shower so my body had probably swelled a little, I should have realised that I was being more than a touch delusional. I clumsily put my legs into the negligee and when it started to approach my thighs, I did think that things felt a bit tight but continued on regardless. I tried to pull it up further and after the traitorous negligee hesitated on my arse, I decided that it was time to accept that the bump was NEVER going to fit inside it!

Still I tried one last time and it became wedged around the bump, so I tried to pull it back down and the fecking thing was stuck and wouldn't go over my arse. Let's just say that I wouldn't describe myself as nimble at the moment, so I struggled and careered around the bathroom trying to get the stupid thing off me. The bambino of course, chose that moment to start kicking away... Eventually I gave in...

"Boyf! Look what I've done!" and I padded into the bedroom where he nearly pissed himself laughing.

Sex kitten? More like Bobo the frickin clown!

Pain In the Bum

"Er, where are you? Mum's wondering..." asked the bro. I looked at my phone and ruefully noted that it was 2.04. That made me at that point about 4 minutes late....
"I'll be there in a bit... I...er..haven't left yet..."
"Tell him why!" called out the boyf.
"I'm in a bit of pain...It's taking me longer to leave the house..." I said wincing.
"What's wrong?" asked the bro worriedly.
"I think I have a trapped nerve" I replied, praying he'd leave it at that.
"Where?" Oh for f*cks sake!
"In..my..bum..."
I held the phone away from me whilst he roared with laughter.

"I'd like to make an appointment for a massage please?"
"What type?"
"Well, I'm er...quite heavily pregnant and I have a trapped nerve..."
"Where is it?" Jaysus can't people just accept my answers?!
"In my...bum...I mean...not actually in it...I meant my bum cheek!" I added hastily.
I could hear her snickering in the background and hastily hung up.

The pain is sort of subsiding and is being hastily replaced by a pain across my lower back. I will admit that I have had paranoid thoughts about being in early labour. The boyf's lucky he's not here as I'd be bending his poor ears. Instead he is at his mum's getting a facts of life chat. OK, it's a bit late for that one but each of our parents has taken to calling us around to talk to us about 'the future'.

I went to my ma's for mine yesterday. I brought the baby clothes we'd brought so far, my checklist and baby catalogues only for her to forget to actually give me the chat.... She gave us some baby clothes (I'm really getting into receiving ;-) ), told us not to ever put baby nappies in the kitchen bin (WTF!) and to wash all of the baby clothes before the birth. Jaysus, this is 30 years and 4 kids parenting experience! She cracks me up though as I think she got carried away telling stories and taking the piss.

The boyf had a major faux pas at the dinner table. He told a story about a girl who had had 3 abortions and had become hypersensitive to the reasons why they had happened, but who had successfully ended up having a child. My mum, the bro and I kept looking at each other and it took a few moments before I twigged that he meant miscarriage... He was really embarrassed but my mum was just relieved that he hadn't suddenly turned into a weirdo...

Have You Got Pants on and Good Intentions

"I don't need to take off my pants and bra do I?" I asked the boyf. No we weren't about to indulge in a kinky sex session... I was having my dinner and I broke out in an all over body itch and he suggested that I derobe to see if the itch would settle.

"Are you wearing pants?" he said staring at me sitting there in my knickers and bra.

"Er yeah!" I said lifting up the bump to show him. He laughed and claimed that he knew I was, but looking down at myself and the bambino bumpage, I suspected that he was just being nice....

I think I am losing my marbles - yesterday I was asked a question about a friend and knowing that I needed to be cautious about how I answered, my brain stalled for a moment and I found myself lying. Of course I don't advocate telling lies (I'm about to be a mum - I need to learn how to behave myself), however sometimes, it is easy to believe that they will stop any further questions. A bit like when I was single and I'd get chatted up by guys and find myself making up imaginary boyfriends to let them down gently....

Of course, despite telling the lie, I got asked more questions and found myself making up a bit of a story as I had now backed myself into a corner. Just like when I would lie about having a boyfriend and the silly persistent men would continue to ask more questions about 'him' and I would have to make up my new life, despite the fact the fact that all and sundry were asking me when I'd get a boyfriend and why was I still single.... (I made up for that by getting knocked up....)

I confessed my lie to the boyf who looked at me flabbergastered. "So let me get this straight. You told a lie and then made up a story to go along with it? Why didn't you just tell her to mind her own business?"

Panicked and knowing that the two may meet soon, I had to phone my friend and explain that I'd told a lie about her...F*cking hell I make things complicated for myself.... She was pissing herself laughing and laughed even harder when I told her about her fictional life. "So let me get this right - You told a lie AND you made up a story?! NML!"

Jaysus, Mary and frickin Joseph. I had good intentions and at the time it made sense. Like a lot of things do for about five minutes when you're pregnant...