One handed blogging

(no capitals...)
baby-boo iscurrently asleep on me. not something i usually encourage but he's so utterly gorgeous today i can't put him down...combined with having been such a good boy since his first injections yesterday...
that really was a horrible experience for me though - having to hold him while pain was inflicted on him - twice...
Right, now I have two hands...he was so totally zonked out I thought I'd try putting him down (usually doesn't work all that well...) and he's stayed asleep long enough for me to have a sandwich so I thought I'd return to this.
I don't really have anything to say. Although we are starting to come back to life/sanity/whatever, all I do really is feed and change nappies and try to get some sleep. Feeding can be lovely but is also very, very hard. Changing nappies can actually be a lot of fun, Baby-Boo is often at his happiest when able to kick about on the changing mat. Trying to get sleep...can be exciting when it works (bed time has been fairly consistent this week, before 11.30. Very exciting for me who used to like to be in bed not very much after 10...) and can be soul destroying when it doesn't (and you have no idea why because as far as you can tell everything is exactly as it was yesterday.)
So, like I say, not much to say here but I thought having made an effort to blog again, I'd try to keep it up.
I shall do more pics soon. And perhaps one day I'll post the "birth story" not particularly because you want to read it but because it might be nice to write it.

Better late than never...

That title applies to the arrival of our beautiful baby boy as well as to the arrival of this blog post.

Baby-Boo is currently asleep on me in his sling and my back is beginning to give up (plus I want to see if I can get him down stil asleep so I can sleep too...) so this is again a very quick post but so overdue I couldn't leave it any longer...

So Baby-Boo was born on December 3rd at 21:36 by sort-of-emergency caesarean. He's doing very well now. He lost a lot of weight at first but once he got the hang of eating, he hasn't really stopped. He's piling on the pounds now but is still a relatively petit chap, compared to most of his friends anyway.

So, all you really want is pictures so you don't mind I'm not writing much more, right? I've only uploaded one camera so far and don't have the absolute cutest, cutest pictures here but for starters...they are me and Baby-Boo when we first met, Baby-Boo at about three weeks old and Baby-Boo and Husbink at six weeks. :) More, umm, soon, umm, ish...

Just a high speed update...

...cos I need to be napping!
I went back into hospital again on Wednesday morning with wriggle-bottom's head out of place again and have just come home this morning. It has been very stressful because I just kept being told different things and different midwives/doctors had different levels of paranoia. So at one point it was a c-section on Friday, then Monday, then an induction in theatre in case of emergency, then waiting for it to happen naturally but in hospital in case of emergency...now home!
I didn't really cope very well with getting sent home today because of having been told so many different things but I'm here now which is really good. I'd like about 24 hours to unwind and get a decent sleep and then I'd really, REALLY like to go into labour! (And it would be kind of cool to go into labour while really wanting it rather than being terrified of it, don't you think?)
Hope you are all well. Thanks for the comments on the last post :) I'm really hoping that the next post will contain pictures of my son!

I Want...

• To Sleep On My Back
• A Nice Big Glass Of Wine
• Pate. Any sort really.
• Brie. In the same meal as the pate. Or not. Anytime really. In a baguette, with bacon and cranberry sauce. On its own. With the wine...
• Soft Boiled Eggs. Soft Poached Eggs. Sloppy Scrambled Eggs.
• A Proper Hug From Husbink. Currently, I have to stand side-on and lean, otherwise I can't actually reach him.
• To Get Out of Bed Without Groaning
• To Get Out of Bed Without My Hips Popping
• To Be Able to Walk My Normal Speed/Distance
• A Large Peanut Butter Sandwich. Or six.
• An End To The Braxton Hicks. Who thought they were a good idea? "Is it labour? Is It labour now? What about now? That's three hours at 20 minute intervals...are we heading somewhere? Oh, no, they've stopped now..."
• Most of all, more than any of the other things, more than anything at all ever, I want my baby. I want to hold him, not carry him in my tummy. I want to see his face, not imagine it. I want to tickle his toes, not my tummy where his toes are.

It hasn't been the best of weeks. I spent Wednesday-Friday in hospital because my baby's just too active and won't keep his head down. He was manipulated into position on Thursday morning (fortunately, he was at that point only about three inches away from position so it wasn't a full turn. Still really rather painful and my tummy muscles are only just recovering now. At least they are mostly recovered, I figure going into labour with already sore muscles probably isn't the best.) and managed to stay there until Friday afternoon so I was allowed home. (Actually, there was one fun thing, I've been scanned quite a lot and in one of them they managed to get some pictures of his face. Ok, they don't give much idea of him, but I can sort of look at my baby now.) We went in again on Sunday because he'd shifted a bit, but this time perhaps only half an inch and so following a scan, it was home again. Today, he seems to have stayed still but I still had to ring labour ward with some questions I forgot to ask on Friday or Sunday. It made me feel like a fruitloop. Now I just have to get through tomorrow and I get to see my midwife again on Wednesday. I just want my baby. I want him to be well and safe and in my arms. Everyone due ahead of me (that I know, clearly, not in all the world) has had their babies now (which includes my absolutely gorgeous nephew. I went and bought him extra presents today cos...umm...I wanted to...) so It Is My Turn. Now please. Baby please. Now. Thank you :)

Final Flings

Last night, with much apprehension on my part, we drove to Newcastle for the evening to see Mr Eddie Izzard in his new stand up show, Stripped.
We bought the tickets oooh, about nine months ago... I'd been umming and ahhing for ages about whether to sell them. We even had someone prepared to buy them right up to the day before if things should happen. I'd been keen, then I wasn't keen, then I realised how keen Husbink was so I was keen again then all the migraines and bad weekends and all the rest of it happened (I may not have blogged about that...in a nutshell, my lovely smooth pregnancy got a little less fun and every weekend got ruined for a while with one bout of illness or another. I was unimpressed and it also made me feel a lot like giving up and just hibernating until he comes out.). So I was pretty much sure that we shouldn't go and wouldn't go and that it would be a really bad plan to go.
Part of the reason that I thought it would be a really bad plan was because Husbink had been on nights all week and so neither of us would be really up for heaps of driving. However, Husbink got a better sleep at work than I did at home on Thursday night and so...I was persuaded.
I'm glad we went, I'm glad we didn't give up and get tied to home before we really had to. We took my hospital bag in the car so that I didn't have to worry and we went. It was fun. We saw the last night of the Sexie tour so this was pretty much as close to back-to-back shows as possible - six years apart. I couldn't enjoy it as much because my bump isn't all that keen on uncontrolable laughter and when you have to stop yourself from finding things funny...
Anyway, this isn't meant to be a review of Mr Izzard (though it is tempting, it was very good in places, slightly off-on-one in others and for me a little sad in others - but overall very good, I've chuckled to myself quite a bit today); this is meant to be about final flings.
Husbink and I are living in hope that we are going to find the time to go out for dinner and have a real date thingy before we become three. We are hoping that we will find time for enjoying each others company (in amongst the getting-the-house-ready and Husbink starting to revise again stuff). But who knows? It could be tomorrow. It could be another five weeks. But I'm glad we went last night. I'm totally wiped out today, but I'm glad we went.

A really weird coincidence...

A lot of the time at the moment, I can feel the little one wriggling around in my tummy. He's a busy lad and whenever the midwife says "is he moving ten times a day?" I just laugh - he's often done at least half of his quota before I get out of bed...
I can't however guarantee what is going to make him move (though Husbink's hand on my belly often makes him stop...he's showing signs of being a little difficult!) but there is one thing that I'm sure is just coincidence but it has happened too many times now and is frankly a little weird...
My ankles have a bit of a tendency to lock (they always have done, or for years at least, this isn't a special pregnancy issue like all the others I could witter on about) and I have to strain a little and make them crack.
And he jumps. Not just after the crack but as they crack, he jumps. He can be totally still, having a little rest but an ankle crack equals a jump. He'll then go back to sleep. My elbows click but he doesn't jump for them. Just my ankles. Crack-jump.
It has to be coincidence but it's happened so much and it is really rather bizarre!

It's a miracle!

So.
I used to have lots of trouble with my hands when we lived in Leeds. Lots of trouble with dry skin, cracked, bleeding, ow... Mostly I blamed this on the OCD at the time.
We left Leeds, the OCD got better and so did my hands.
After a few years we moved back to the same lovely county and the same lovely water board. And my hands.....OUCH! For the past year and a bit they have been getting worse and worse. I concluded pregnancy wasn't helping. But all it takes is a few days away from here at my parents' or even better at Husbink's. My hands clear up amazingly quickly.
I'd pretty much given up on the hope of them getting better while we lived here and just resorted to using a huge amount of handcream day and night.
Two days ago, I ran out of soap in the bathroom and found a random bar of moisturising soap in the drawer. It is a miracle! Yesterday and the day before I forgot to put handcream on during the day and my hands were only really dry at bed time rather than destroyed. At the moment, there are just a few little patches that aren't quite supple...
I've used various different soaps while we've lived here (it all comes down to what is on offer, right?) and various different degrees of super-moisturising handcream but nothing has worked like this! Woop! I am no longer in danger of bleeding on people's tablecloths (this happened at a student's house last year).
Ok, not the most exciting post in the world but one of the most exciting developments for me!