Another weird conversation with Alex. He was driving, I decided that I wanted to cup his testicles. So I did.

A: Ouch! Oi!!
K: I only touched you
A: You stabbed me.
K: Gently, with my fingertips, in a stroking manner.
A: Stabbed in the manner of Oddjob.
K: Stabbed with a hat?
A: He had spiky shoes too.
K: He can use anything as a weapon. Oddjob - he's very versatile. And well presented. Sort of person you'd want working for you, really.
A: As long as he was on your side.
K: Unless you had HR issues with him.
A: Yes..disciplinary meeting with Oddjob.
K: "Now look here, Oddjob, this decapitation of your colleagues has got to stop"

God knows.

ANTENATAL APPOINTMENT...WITH MY MOTHER IN LAW

Oh God...I think this was a bad idea. I have an antenatal appointment at 2.10, but Alex has an interview today* so couldn't come. My mental mater has 'plans' (she was vague about these aforementioned 'plans', so they're most likely plans of the internet chatting variety...but plans nonetheless) so she can't accompany me. So Alex's Mom is coming. Oh dear.

I love her dearly, she's ace. We do get on really well. But sometimes, when I'm having a hormonal day, she can wind me up something chronic. And if she mentions the damned conservatory** today I might actually beat her to death with a speculum.

Potential for annoyance today:
-- Alex has an interview, therefore she will likely talk to me about interview techniques and programmes she's watched/books she's read with 'hints and tips' in them***
-- Alex is losing weight miraculously on his diet. She is on the same diet but is fantastic at making excuses and coming off it in order to have treats. She can't understand why the diet doesn't seem to be working so well. She has a preoccupation with weight and size. I, on the other hand, am trying to recover from an eating disorder...and therefore am actively avoiding having a preoccupation with weight/size/weight loss techniques etc. So you can imagine conversations such as "don't you think Alex looks better now he's lost weight?", "I've read about this amazing new diet...", "How much weight have you gained with the pregnancy?" etc, are a really effective way to rub me up the wrong way.
-- She has to stop and have a coffee at every opportunity. This is kind of funny...but after a while it can get tiresome. I have a sneaking suspicion she will suggest a coffee on the way out of the hospital. I hope she will just wait until we get back here.

Oh, and there's the added fun today that the midwives likely will ask some questions about Thursday nights emergency visit. This conversation will involve me talking about my sexual relationship with her son...in detail. I don't think she will appreciate this.

* Alex's interview: Remember arsehole man who I slept with ages ago, who emailed me recently, who is, for want of a better description, a total twat? Alex has an interview at the company he works for today. Oh dear.

** Damned conservatory: We have to decorate the WHOLE HOUSE, as the people who did it out before we moved in kindly listened to our request for no woodchip on the walls...and decided to woodchip the whole house. The two most important rooms are the nursery and the front room. We also need to put the tiles down on the bathroom floor. When these two rooms are completed we would like to decorate our bedroom, if we have time. All of the decorating has to be finished by mid-April at the very latest.

So. Dee's inexplicable obsession with the conservatory is driving me towards a nervous breakdown. I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE CONSERVATORY. We don't use it, apart from for storage. It's too cold in the winter and too hot in the summer. It's a non-room. Her offer of buying us some lino or tiles to go on the floor is kind, but if she wants to buy us a gift I would much rather have a changing table or something else useful and baby related. Her idea of creating some drapes to 'soften' the ceiling...interesting, but not really necessary. Her incessant interrogation as to 'what sort of colour scheme are we thinking' is driving me to distraction.

Alex thinks that she just wants a project, which is all well and good...but in order for her to play at making the conservatory pretty we would have to empty the junk out of the conservatory and into the house. It's not going to happen.

***Hints and Tips: I seriously hate it when people read a self-help book/watch a tv programme/see something in a magazine which advises them on tricks for the best way to do things ('things' being anything from doing well in an interview, organising your life, losing weight, getting on with difficult people...anything)...and then take these 'tricks' as A FORMULA WHICH CANNOT FAIL TO SUCCEED.

Unfortunately, Dee is one of these people...and she takes the tips to the Nth degree. Like what colour shirt to wear to an interview in order to give subliminal messages to the interviewers. Like music to play to the baby in utero which will encourage intelligence (she chose 'Baroch' music, because apparently it is more in tune with natures rhythms than other classical music. She gave me a cd. I did not listen to the cd. I do not like classical music**** and the baby has been developing to the calming 'rhythms' of system of a down, nirvana, hole, audioslave and the chilis, amongst others. This will be a well balanced child).

**** Although, on an admittedly sad and geeky note, I do like the score to some films. Donnie Darko and The Hours in particular. This is odd and confusing, even to me.

INABILITY TO DO FOOD SHOPPING

I can't decide on anything I want to eat at the moment, and it's driving me insane. I was almost in tears the other night because I was staving, but couldn't think of anything that I could possibly consider eating. We went food shopping yesterday...and the food aspect of the shop ended up consisting of:
-- Cheese trianges
-- Green pesto
-- A can of Heinz spaghetti and sausages
-- Ham (for sandwiches)
-- Crumpets
-- Honey Loops

Hmm. It's not really the most balanced diet...

TERRIFIED AND ILLOGICAL THOUGHTS ABOUT GIVING BIRTH

I keep having totally insane thoughts about things that could go wrong during the birth. Such as:
-- What if I go through the whole labour and then I'm too tired to push?
-- What if I'm not good at pushing?
-- What if I start pushing, get the baby halfway down there and then GIVE UP?
-- What if my uterus turns inside out? (This one is extremely weird...where have I got this idea from?)
-- What if I have the quickest labour ever?
-- What if I have the longest labour ever?
-- What if I have a c-section and I CAN FEEL WHAT THEY'RE DOING?

And so on and so forth. Alex is beginning to develop a twitch due to me spontaneously grabbing at him at odd moments and saying "Alex!! What if...."

Poor bloke.

Right...it's 12.50 and I have no make-up on (yes, yes I am a scabby cow. But I have cleaned downstairs very thoroughly, so I think I have an excuse. Don't judge me lest ye be judged. Oh ho we're getting a bit biblical now). Dee is aiming to get here at around 1.30, so she'll probably be early...dammit, I'm going to have to throw myself together again. I'm so classy.

OH EEP OH EEP

GO ON...JUST HUG ME A LITTLE BIT. I PROMISE I WON'T BITE.


give Kate-Lee more *HUGS*Get hugs of your own