We have spent some time observing the locals. Most appear to be
programmed to be nice, but are lacking in skills of reasoning and car
repair and conversations that include any level of intelligent
thought.
I wonder if we will ever leave
The burger king down the road is hiring, there is a hospital nearby.
If worse comes to worse we will just live here. Maybe it wouldn't be
so bad?
Oh boy. I just hope to all hell that our next leap, is the leap home.
--
Sent from my mobile device
The pregnancy is fine, don't worry about that. No person or animal has
died. But Alise and I are having a shit arse crap day.
I shall explain more another time.
--
Sent from my mobile device
The nursery is now really taking shape. We have a new light fixture in
there, complete with dimmer for the bay-bee. We've put up shelves in
the closet and we've bought more clothes and toys. We are no where
near 'ready', but we are certainly getting there.
One conversation that we've had recently has been in deciding whether
to go with cloth, or disposable diapers. Cloth are cheaper, and better
for the environment, disposable possibly fit the child better and are,
of course, easier. If anyone has any thoughts on the subject then
please weigh in!
--
Sent from my mobile device
The nursery is painted, and we're having an electrician over this weekend to install a new light fixture and electrical sockets in there this weekend. Things are moving quickly!
Alise and I are really getting into the spirit of things now. We've been thinking of how the nursery will look, and we went to Ikea the other night to buy a Spanka, Sthummelstrob, Krenka, and Plajebomb. Or something. We're building up our collection of cute clothing and we're looking into toys, books and all things baby.
This is all most probably because Alise is showing and growing quickly. For a while there she didn't look any different at all, then she looked like she'd just gained a few pounds; but recently she's most obviously looking pregnant. On her way back from the hospital yesterday a lady gave up her seat on the train for Alise, and people in the outside world are comfortable to make comments.
The hospital visit was critical, but quick. Alise was one of the lucky ones to get the H1N1 vaccination, which is heavily recommended for pregnant women. I hope that any of you out there that are pregnant make sure to get the vaccine, and those that don't practice good hygiene methods and don't get sick!
Alise and I live in a fairly residential, well-to-do neighborhood. There are some younger families with children, there's a park within a couple of minutes walk, and plenty of grandparents. Usually for Halloween we get quite the crowd of candy grabbing children, and the 31st October is a fun night for all.
This year we went all out. We went to Target during the day, bought another big bag of candy (to add to the 4 big bags that we'd already bought), and I got some awesome skull lanterns. When we got home I set up the lanterns so that they framed the steps to the house and could be seen from far away. I added some more lights, we lit candles on the porch, we got a big bowl ready for candy, and we both sat on the porch with our laptops.
Waiting.
And waiting.
And waiting some more.
While we did get some trick or treaters, we didn't get nearly as many as we should.
And why not? It was pretty warm on Saturday evening, it was dry, and the house looked awesome. So why?? H1N1? Scared parents banning their kids from going out in case of razor blades in candy or pedophiles? Are children just too lazy these days and stay inside watching DVD's and playing video games? What the F?
Next year our boy will be dressed for fright night, and I'm going to add a fog machine and scary noises soundtrack to our Halloween experience. I will do what it takes to ensure that we get more next year than we did this year. And if they don't come? More the year after!
It's that time of year when we have to select our medical and life benefits.
Much like many people, we're given a chunk of credits that we can apply to different benefits. This usually means that someone like me (blind, British, scared of the doctor) may apply more credits to vision and dental coverage, less to medical coverage. I don't need to add our child to my plans just yet, apparently having a baby is counted as a 'qualifying event', and means that I can change my stuff when the 'event', 'occurs'.
I'm usually fairly frugal with my credits. Credits that remain can be converted to cash, which is added to your paycheck. The bare minimums usually work for me, enough coverage to be legal, not quite enough to be healthy.
This year is different.
This year I've given myself a half decent medical plan. I've gone with the premium vision plan, purely so that I don't have to clean my glasses on the scrubs of the delivering doctor before taking my first look at our son. I've even gone with a good dental plan, and might even go to one of those tooth doctors. I saved though, the biggest splurge for last.
I usually go with the minimum 1x salary for life insurance. I don't like to spend my money on life insurance, because I will never benefit.
Next year though, things change. So I turned the dial to 11. The max that I could get, I'm worth $200,000 dead. Alise is the sole beneficiary.
For the last couple of days, Alise and I have been virtual mirror images of ourselves. We both sit, looking tired, with our hands stroking our stomachs.
For Alise, of course, this is all perfectly natural, healthy, and sweet. She's holding our child protectively, like the wonderful mother that she already is. She's getting used to this new growth, and getting to know her new body. Aaww… so sweet.
For me its because a war of attrition has broken out in my bowels.
After an initial night-time raid, the ars-is of evil struck a blow against the colon-ition. It was an intestine battle, during which the Turds were expelled from the Holey land.
Ok, I'll stop there. Sorry.
Of course, because I'm male, whenever I'm sick I'm 'dying'. Pretty soon I'll be fighting fit though, and ready to eat Indian food once more. To victory!
I think one of the strangest things for me about this day and age, is how small the world sometimes seems.
Today I read a story on the BBC website, so published in London, about a terror suspect that had been arrested in Massachusetts. And this was how I first found out about it.
Nevermind that I actually live in Massachusetts; I hear about where I live via the country that I left.
When I was growing up, America seemed like a lifetime away. I had always been very interested in the country, and it was always #1 on my personal 'I want to go there' list. Now I'm living here and I call it home; and understandably I guess the appeal has waned. Now I think that China or Japan are terribly interesting and deserving of my presence, and hopefully we'll be able to visit at some point.
Our child will think nothing of traveling long distances. As things stand, he's 3000 miles away from each of his grandmothers, one being to his east and one to his south-west. One of his uncles is currently about 3000 miles west, his closest grandparent a three hour car ride north.
A lot depends on whether we decide to stay where we are or to move closer to relatives, but it's likely that our boy will grow up with different ideas about family than we did. I truly hope that he will be as close to as many of them as possible, and hope that he won't miss out on anything just because his dad moved to America.
Alise has had a belly button ring for about 10 years now. Its always
been there, a constant in an ever changing world. As the belly has
grown though, its become clear that this ring, this symbol of youth
and wild abandon, has to go.
We will miss you, old buddy. Thanks for the memories!
--
Sent from my mobile device
I read two separate articles the other day.
The first was about some new kind of battery technology, that if successful will create batteries that, though just the size of a penny, could provide energy to power a device for 10 years. Without being recharged. Imagine the possibilities? Cars could be clean and need no gas, laptops could be used in the third world, and my phone won't need to be plugged in every night.
The second was about some mad scientist bloke who is developing a procedure that can slow the functions of the body to a basic crawl, allowing the critically ill to get medical care before it's too late. It's as if they are put into a suspended state. All very cool.
All of this is very exciting. Of course, I wasn't born in the dark ages but the level of advancement over the past few years has been quite astonishing.
Which led me to ponder… what will this earth be like when our son is our age?
What will the life expectancy be? What will transport be like? Television? We had a colour TV, but only with 3 channels and no remote control or method of recording. We had one computer at school, but it was very basic by today's standards and each child had about an hour a month on it. Alise and I, between us, have (I think) seven things that can get onto the internet. Will this be considered laughable in the future?
It's exciting to think of being a parent, but almost more exciting to think of the advances that will occur during his lifetime.
Dear Autumn,
WTF man?? What happened to you this year? Are you okay? Sick? H1N1???
We wish you'd told us. We had everything ready for you. We were going to pick apples and carve pumpkins and kick piles of leaves into the air. I had jackets for us all to wear too! Usually you show up and I can wear them for a few weeks and feel comfortable. But no. Apparently you're just TOOOO important and decided to bail on us.
Old man Winter, despite his age and arthritic knees, was EARLY. This should shame you. He actually made it snow this morning.
There's still time for you to make an appearance… just please be quick. Halloween just isn't the same without you.
Coldest regards,
New England.
When you were in, the ultra, sound,
I asked the doctor, what will you be,
'will it have bollocks, will it have none',
Here's what she said, to me…
It's a boy, a boy…..
That's quite enough of that nonsense.
So! We're having a boy. The ultrasound yesterday was quite an experience, really. While we didn't really get to see much of the whole of the child (not sure why, maybe he's too big to get onto the tv screen at once now?), they were able to do a 3D type photo of his face. I'll post that here when its scanned in.
It is quite a bizarre photo, and he looks kind of half alien/half child. The more that I look at it though, the cuter he gets. I think he's going to be a little heart breaker when he's older and less critically under-developed.
The strangest part, most certainly, was seeing that he was sucking his thumb. Even at just 18 weeks; this being, this child of mine was lying back, enjoying life, and sucking his thumb like his dad did until he was about… oohhh… 17.
We just had an ultrasound, and are waiting to see the doctor. Or
nurse. Or doctors assistant. Or something. Anyway, someone with much
more knowledge than I will be seeing us shortly.
The ultrasound did go well, and all appears to be in order. When the
time is right, we will announce the sex of the child, because we now
do know!
--
Sent from my mobile device
Something of great importance happened on Friday evening.
Alise and I, happy with our bulk cooking/freezing extravaganza, decided to splurge and go out to dinner. We settled, after some discussion, on a Chinese restaurant that's close to where Alise used to work. Called the 'Ginger Root', located in the Italian section of Newton, it's not much to look at from either side of the windows but it serves good Chinese food at a reasonable price with great service. And the mango chicken really is to die for.
After gorging ourselves, we both reclined and adopted the 'hands on belly' pose. When the waitress bought the check, she gave a shriek. 'You're pregnant!' she gasped.
This, ladies and gents, was the very first time that someone who doesn't know that Alise is pregnant has said that she is. It's official, she's looking like someone who's pregnant.
I did have to take a moment to make sure that she was talking to Alise, and not to me. While Alise is displaying a belly that's consistent with a 4 month old growth, so too am I.
It is, apparently, a common phenomenon. The daddy also eats for two, and puts on some weight. Last night I took a bath and was alarmed to find that rolls of fat were creeping up my torso, almost restricting my movement. I've added a few pounds, and I'm getting chunky.
While its never a bad idea to add some insulation as winter approaches (and it seems to have taken an express train, the morning walk was not pleasant today); I've never put on weight or bulk as quickly in my life. I'm eating well, but heartily, and at the current rate will be a bit of a bloater by the time the baby is born.
So; I'm going on a bit of a diet. I'm going to fight the flab and reduce my carby footprint. No more bacon shall pass my lips!
God I'm a terrible liar…
Alise and I were talking about her symptoms, or lack thereof, the other day.
It is, of course, a good thing that she hasn't suffered from morning sickness. Some women can suffer terribly, which isn't a good thing when nutrition and hydration is so important. The other 'Hollywood friendly' symptom that's been largely lacking has been for food cravings.
It was always central to my image of 'expectant father' that the man be seen driving all around town at 3am to locate the specific brand and flavor of ice-cream that his partner desired. I've always heard stories of women craving the strangest concoctions, mixing ingredients with wild abandon and barking almost impossible orders, Emperor style. 'Bring me freshly picked oranges! And then liquefy them with Gouda. And do it now!'.
Alise hasn't asked this. She hasn't really asked anything close. When she needs to eat she NEEDS TO EAT RIGHT NOW! – but she's basically been eating the same things that she ate before.
So, I kind of feel like I've been missing out. It feels like I've missed out on a rite of passage. This way is preferable to scouring the 24 hour stores for blueberry jam, but still… I've been largely redundant throughout all of this.
One symptom, of course, that's hit particularly hard in the last week or so has been lack of sleep, coupled with back aches. We'll touch on that one shortly.
This morning I woke up fairly late and scurried to get ready for work. My morning routine on days like these involves dressing largely in the dark so as not to wake Alise any more than I already have, throwing some food down Coco's throat, letting her outside so that she can water and fertilize the lawn, swishing some mouthwash, grabbing some lunch out of the fridge (if available) and scooting out of the door to walk the 15 minutes to the train station.
This morning, as I walked, I noticed that one of the temporary water pipes that's been set up in the neighborhood had sprung a leak, and was sending a torrent of water into the street. I avoided getting splashed by cars and got to my train.
When I checked emails on my phone, I saw a flood (pun intended) of emails from the neighbors, complaining of a loss of water pressure. I communicated to then (via the neighborhood email chain thingy) my findings, relaying that it was probably the cause of said loss of pressure.
Emails erupted. Everyone complaining, and reporting their loss of water. I remember thinking to myself 'jesus! Calm down people! It's only water!'
Of course, in a few months it'll be different. Alise and I can perfectly take care of ourselves whether we have no water, no electricity, or even (gasp) no internet. Soon though we'll depend on these things, we'll need all of the creature comforts of home to be uninterrupted. We'll rely on people and things. Whereas now we often say 'you and me against the world', we'll soon need the world more than ever.
It was probably only about 6 weeks or even a month ago that Alise and I were in a Gap Maternity store.
At that point, she had put on a little weight, and had a little bit of a tummy. She really didn't look pregnant though, more like she'd eaten quite a bit recently and hadn't exercised. Her clothes were getting a little tight though, and we'd begun to shop for maternity clothes.
While there, and while she was trying on her clothes, Alise found a 'fake belly' in the changing room. Basically a bump with Velcro strapping, she was able to see for herself how she'd look with a baby belly, and therefore how the clothes would fit.
At the time, if I'm honest, it kind of scared me to see her with this fake belly. Hypothetically I know that a real belly would soon come, but to see an artist impression of Alise in the future had put me on edge. And this was only 6 weeks ago, if that.
Within the space of this 6 weeks (or less. On reflection; I think it's more like a month) Alise has certainly grown. She went from 'might have had a few too many cheeseburgers' to 'I should probably give my seat up to that girl but I don't know for sure if she's pregnant so I might offend her if she's just a bit heavy' to 'baby on board'. Obviously she's going to get a lot bigger before she gets smaller, but she's certainly well on the way.
And am I scared? Do you know what? I'm actually not. Alise looks wonderful. She's glowing, she looks healthy, and she's as cute as a button. These are good times.
One of the better pieces of advice that I've had in the last few weeks was this:
'Practice bending over now. You'll be doing it a lot when you've got a child'
Sound advice.
Alise and I both have issues with our backs. I have graduated from feeling a twinge in my back every now and then to now always saying 'oouuch' whenever I bend at a greater than 90 degree angle. Often I wake in terrible pain, and many of my older t-shirts now stink of Ben-Gay. For those of you that are not American, Ben-Gay is a menthol rub product, and not what your perverted minds are thinking it is.
To try to help ourselves, we've been talking about buying a new mattress. Many people with back complaints consider a good mattress the best purchase that they make, and no doubt we'd feel the same way. Since, however, we're a pair of cheap bastards; we've been exploring more frugal alternatives.
The first thing that we're trying is a mattress pad. This thing that we bought from Target is the consistency of a heavy comforter and sits on top of the mattress, below the ground sheet. We put it on last night and it transformed our bed from 'fairly normal bed' to 'most comfortable bed in the world'. Time will tell what effect this will have on our spines, but I'm not going to let this thing go without a fight.
This though, isn't the only difference to our sleeping. Alise is having to sleep on her side these days, for that's what's recommended. To aid this, last week we bought a body pillow. A big, long, soft, green thing that's now sharing the bed with Alise, myself, and our four cats who have decided to bury their individual differences for the sakes of somewhere warm and comfortable to sleep.
Things are getting a little crowded.
We don't have the largest bed in the world. It's a queen size, and on an average night contains 4 pillows, 1 super large pillow, 7 heartbeats and some crumbs. If this truly is the calm before the storm (which I'm in no doubt, it is), then it's going to be one hell of a storm.
Alise and I were discussing our 'what to do's this weekend' earlier.
Last weekend we went to the football (soccer) game at Gillette stadium, home of the New England Revolution and the New England Patriots. They've built quite the complex there, with stores, restaurants and a Showcase cinema. Last weekend we went to 'Five Guys' for a burger before the game, and found it to be (in my humble opinion, at least) the best burger joint on the face of the Earth.
We've decided that this weekend we'll go to see a movie at the Showcase, having lunch at Five Guys before we go. Quite seriously we decided to go to an afternoon screening, because when we go to the movies in the evenings we get tired and feel like falling asleep.
Now, Alise has an excuse for this. She's pregnant! What's my excuse?
My hair gets grayer with every passing month. I get tired easily, and my back hurts. I'm old even before someone as yet unborn has the ability to say 'Gawd Dad! You're SOO old!'.
I'm wondering what effect this baby will have on me and my energy levels. On one hand I think that it'll whip me into shape. That I'll be so busy that I'll have no time to be tired. On the other…
It scares me to even think what shape I'll be in, in a year from now.
I mentioned Coco yesterday, and her magnificent efforts to save us all money by heating the house solely through the heat of her farts. She hasn't yet realized that we outdo her efforts by opening the windows to allow the smell, and the heat to escape, but she is trying and we appreciate this.
There has been another noticeable difference in Coco's behavior, over the last few weeks.
I've told you about Coco before, but let me recap. Coco is a gorgeous, very large, lovable and quite goofy nine year old Chocolate Lab. She's an English Lab, so has larger ears and a more pronounced nose that your typical lab, which just adds to her beauty. She's the kind of dog that people slow down to gawk at, and children love her. We were walking her the other day down our street when a child being held by its father came the other way. This little girl (must have been maybe a year old) gave a shriek and pointed at Coco, her legs waving in a gesture of sheer joy, matched only by the smile on her face and also by the tail wag of Coco.
Coco is great with kids. When around adults, especially tall, adult males she will horseplay like the horse that she is. She'll rush into people, jump up at them, try to lick the tops of their head, and generally be a big and unruly goofball. When faced with small kids though, she'll calm down and allow them to pet her, she'll make less violent movements, and she'll let them do anything to her. She's wonderful, and I'm quite sure that she'll be wonderful with our child.
There is something though, I think, that she's already started to do. I think that she's started to become ultra protective of Alise.
If Coco is allowed into our bedroom and onto the bed, she'll quite gently but quite deliberately crawl to Alise and lay her head onto her stomach. She'll be calmer than she used to be. I've noticed this as a subtle change recently, and I think it'll become more pronounced as the weeks pass. In addition, last night she heard someone outside our house. Before she would have let out a short 'gruff' sound. Last night she howled, loudly, and then barked. Very rare for Coco, but I think indicative of her probably very innate transition to protector and guardian of Alise.
Coco, if you're reading this (and I know you do all sorts of things while we're at work so I'm not putting it past you), thank you. You've been an awesome companion for the last few years and I'm looking forward to introducing you to your little brother or sister to you. They'll have a long way to go to beat you.
If Shakespeare is to be believed, the name of anything bears no impact upon the beauty of that thing. A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet. Surely by default this would mean that Coco's farts, if called 'buttercups', would still smell horrific and would still mean that we'd have to have all of the windows in the house open, even as the weather cools.
Of course, they would. Coco has no knowledge of the word 'fart' and therefore cannot influence their regularity or potency just because Alise and I call out 'OHMYGODCOCOFARTEDBAD!' to each other. By the same token, if our child is given the name 'Buttface', 'Poopstain', 'Smeghead' or 'Margaret', it will still be as cute as a button, despite its unfortunate moniker.
So why are we stressing so much about baby names?
Because, it's the single most important decision that we can make for this child, that's why.
Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating. But maybe not. I attach great significance to the names of people, and form opinions in my mind before I meet them in person if I know their name. I have often thought to myself 'he's nice, but I don't think he's a proper 'Dave'', which is a very strange thing to think.
So we're going to discuss this name business, quite probably until the moment of birth. We have a few that we like, but we've decided not to share. We're like great artists, we only want you to see it when it's finished and signed.
Both of us, individually, have each held the following opinions.
1) 'we shouldn't find out the sex of the child, let's keep it as a surprise!'
Or;
2) 'lets find out! It'll make things much easier! Plus, we're really impatient!'
We've also both discussed this, at length. I suppose it could be possible that one of us knows and the other doesn't, but how long do you suppose that would last?
We both really don't care if this child is male or female. There are pro's and con's to both; Alise loves the little dresses that girls can wear (though she is fast becoming a fan of boys clothes too), while I would probably prefer to play with toy cars and trucks than Barbies. We could, of course, have a boy who plays with dolls or a girl who plays with cars and that would be totally fine with us (especially if the girl graduates to play with bigger cars and can perform a tune up and oil change in the driveway), but I'm working on what's more likely here. I will play soccer with either sex and the child will be a Nottingham Forest fan (the poor soul), so its not like we have different plans for raising the kid if born a boy or a girl.
But, there are things that we can decide on beforehand if we know what we're getting. A name, for one. Baby clothes could be bought in confidence before birth.
Neither of us are big fans of 'blue for boys and pink for girls', though. The nursery will be painted in a gender neutral color, a yellow or green perhaps.
Still, we think that we will ask to know the sex of the child as soon as possible. We'll be able to settle on a name, we'll be able to plan a little better, and we'll stop referring to the growth within Alise as 'it'.
Which then leads to the next question. Do we tell our friends and family what we're getting? I kind of think it might be awesome to keep it a secret; something Alise and I could share. It would also mean that baby shower gifts are more gender neutral.
Hhmmm…. Things to ponder…
Alise and I went to a consignment sale this weekend.
It was basically a few yard sales in one. There was furniture, toys, clothes for both baby and mommy and other 'things'. While we were able to pick up a few bargains, it also bought home something to me.
Babies need a lot of stuff!
Obviously, baby needs to be dressed, especially if it's going to go outside. It needs something to catch its number ones and twos, it needs something to be wiped with. It needs food, and if breast milk is its food then we will need something to extract the milk and store it for those times when Alise's 'kitchen' is closed. It'll need somewhere to sleep and somewhere to sit. It'll need toys and it'll need a car seat. It'll need a stroller, it'll need… a whole lot of stuff.
I was a little overwhelmed at this place. The fact that 'baby will need stuff' wasn't a foreign concept to me before, but being there really bought it home to me.
I think that part of the problem is that, while Alise is now showing (photos will be shown, I promise), and even though we've seen an ultrasound; it's still kind of a hypothetical concept. Honestly, I think that we'll both be able to better analyze and consider this 'thing' as a person when we find out the sex, and when we decide on a name.
Both of these, things that I'll talk about in the next couple of days!
For the last few months, this whole 'baby thing' has been quite fun, really. As I've discussed in detail, Alise has had to pee quite a bit, has had some (but not many) food cravings, and her boobs have grown. Apart from that though… all has been pretty quiet. There's been few constant reminders to me, that she, is preggers.
All of this has changed, literally in the last week. Whereas before Alise looked like she'd possibly had a few too many cheeseburgers, she now looks decidedly pregnant. Her belly has grown; she's 'popped'.
As Alise pops her belly, Jeremy poops his pants.
Seeing Alise now so obviously 'with child' has kind of scared me. I knew it was coming, but it still came as quite a shock to me and I'm struggling to reconcile it in my teeny little head. I suppose it's like a lot of things. I've known that people are dying but it didn't sink in until I saw them in hospital. I've known that winter is coming but it won't hit me until I see frost on the car windows and snow on the ground. I work so much with visuals (surprisingly, since I'm so blind) that even the mental knowledge of an event means little until I see evidence with my own four eyes.
I know I'll be okay, I know I'll adjust to this and be fine. Mentally, I know this. I've yet to see it with my own eyes though…
Here's a helpful tip for all of you baby daddies out there who want the chance to repeat the baby making experience again, at some point in your life.
If baby mommy wants food, either get it for her quickly, or get the fuck out of her way. Pronto. This means NOW.
I was a little naive. I have observed pregnant ladies eat a little more than they perhaps need.
'I'm eating for two!' they'll claim. 'Baby wants corn-dogs covered in syrup!' they'll call. 'Bullshit' I'll call back, under my breath of course.
Alise has been eating a little more than usual, but nothing totally out of the ordinary. She is trying to eat more healthily, and frequently. This helps the nausea you see.
The one thing that we have learned though, is that when she needs to eat, she needs to eat immediately.
The other day we were both in the kitchen. I was putting away dishes (primarily clean ones), while she was making herself a tuna melt.
I was, as usual, messing around.
'I need to get a pan out of that cupboard', she told me. I was standing in front of this cupboard, putting stuff away.
'One sec' I told her, moving slowly.
'I really need that pan' she said.
'Yep, moving quick as I can'. I wasn't, I was messing around.
'PLEASE! GET OUT OF THE WAY!'
I don't blame her, but you see, I wasn't aware. She went from being a little peckish to feeling like she'd faint without instant nourishment. I slinked away and made myself a mental note.
Never come between a pregnant woman and her food!Regrettably, my lack of a post yesterday isn't due to the fact that we actually won $170 million squillion dollars, more because we were busy, got home late, and I crashed into bed, neglecting my blogging duties. I'm ashamed and terribly upset with myself.
We went to friends for dinner last night. They have a young son (between the age of a year and a half and two years, I think) who is a lovely little brat. He is, according to his parents, a ball of terror but he has a wonderful smile and in my book at least, could get away with murder. He's quite taken with me, apparently, and spend most of the evening playing with me, sitting on my knee, handing me hats and glasses to wear, calling my name and warming my stone cold heart.
Anyway, to the first symptom of pregnancy in the first trimester. The frequent urges to pee.
This was the first sign that we had, that Alise might be 'with child'. Even before the pregnancy tests were even unwrapped and peed on (yeah, I'm sensing a theme here too), Alise spent a couple of nights of discomfort because she had to keep getting up, sometimes hourly, to use the bathroom.
Honestly, I have no idea why this happens. No doubt Alise will read this blog and then tell me. Obviously further along in the pregnancy baby will be big enough to put pressure on momma's bladder which will have much the same effect, but for now I'm going to take a guess at 'hormones'. Hormones take the blame for a lot of things, rightly so.
The constant urges to pee have followed Alise for the last 10 weeks. We only have the one bathroom at home (unless you count the toilet in the basement… ever seen 'Trainspotting'? The toilet that we have is much the same as the 'worst toilet in Scotland'), but thankfully, so far, there have been no arguments over ownership of the facilities. I do feel terribly sorry for Alise though, it must be an awful wrench to have to keep getting up to pee, and to have to always be worried about where to pee when we're out.