Sleepless Nights

Author: Veronica

  • And then? My head exploded.

    So I don’t think I mentioned it, but last week one of my cats had a kitten. A tiny little ginger tomcat that Amy adores.

    Eventually I will tell the story of how that kitten came to be living in my bathroom cabinet with it’s mother (funny story, no really) but not tonight.

    Tonight, I am much to exhausted to talk about kittens.

    Instead, I want to talk about death.

    And destruction.

    Namely, the death I intend to inflict on the father of said kitten.

    We have 2 cats. They aren’t desexed because we didn’t have the money to get them done. Shuddup about the stupidity of not getting them spayed, because honestly? I’ve heard it all before, mostly from my subconscious at 2am.

    So, 2 cats. One of which has had a kitten. So, that leaves ONE cat, not pregnant or lactating.

    Unfortunately, that second cat? She wants babies. She wants them bad. She wants them SO bad that she sits underneath my bedroom window all night yowling for her boyfriend.

    Who is only to happy to oblige her, seeing as how male cats and teenage boys are incredibly similar and spend a whole bunch of time thinking with their penis’s.

    [Side note, should that be penis’s or penii?]

    Unfortunately, in the obliging, he doesn’t seem to feel the need to be quiet.

    This means that at 2am, I end up with cats screeching underneath my bedroom window while they get their freak on. Even the torrential rain last night didn’t put them off, they simply burrowed under the house and screeched and screamed UNDERNEATH MY PILLOW. Underneath the floor.

    Which in turn, sets Seven off.

    Seven isn’t a large dog, but man oh man, can she bark.

    Nathan and Amy manage to normally sleep through all the cat sex and barking. Me however? I wake up if a fly buzzes near me.

    The only way to shut ANY of the animals up is to let Seven out to chase the intruder cat away (no seriously, she is like a big brother. A big brother who might just kill the suitor if she catches him).

    So for the last three or four nights, I have been kept awake by all the animals in my house.

    I swear, if I get my hands on this ginger tom cat, I am going to squeeze his neck until his eyes pop. He’s lucky I don’t shoot.

    Damn lucky.

    Please, for the love of god, just ONE night where I sleep through? Please? Without animals waking me up shagging, or barking, or meowing? Please?

  • 30w3d

    30 weeks and 3 days in. Only 9 and a half weeks left to go, right?

    Please excuse my terrible posture, Nathan made me laugh just as he was taking the photo and I kinda threw my head forwards.

    Ugh.

    What to say about 30 weeks?

    Has anyone else found that their fingernails grow twice as fast while they are pregnant? Seriously, what is up with that? I seem to be having to clip my talons every 2 weeks, rather than however often I used to do it before. Not as often as now though, I feel like every time I clip them, they need it again.

    And let’s not talk about hair.

    I’m all for my head hair growing twice as fast and twice as strong (or whatever happens) but seriously, everything else? Really? Do I need inch long pubes in order to give birth?

    I think not.

    And considering that I am having a hard time seeing anything below my belly button at the moment -where all my stretchmarks currently reside- how on earth am I meant to trim or shave my pubes? I’m not game enough to work blind with sharp implements down there.

    So the hair growth? Feel free to slow down anytime now. I’m not sure Nathan really wants me to hand him the razor and say ‘go for it baby’ when things aren’t going to progress much past the shaving part. Poor boy.

    On that note, how unfair is it that my libido seems to have returned? Just at the point where the actual logistics of getting laid are much more involved than the actual act?

    Not fair at all. To either of us.

    Leaky boobs. Oh the fun!

    I had forgotten just how much FUN leaky boobs are.

    I was examining my nipple the other day (as you do) making sure that everything was fine – I had cracks show up prior to Amy’s birth. Funnily enough, I didn’t get any after she was born, even though she spent all her time attached to my boob like a limpet – when, I squeezed a little too hard OBVIOUSLY and squirted myself in the eye.

    Sure it would have been funny, if it wasn’t MY eye.

    Plus, colostrum is much stickier than actual milk. I’m lucky that I had a sleeve handy or I might just have glued my eye shut.

    [Wonder if I could glue Nathan’s shut the next time he pisses me off? Squirt him while he is sleeping and see what happens…]

    Right, I think that’s just about everything covered. Fingernails, pubes, sex and breasts. Sound about right?

    Hey, I never said I had any modesty left. At the end of all this I fully expect to push a baby out of my vagina and that isn’t exactly the kind of thing to lend itself to modesty.

    So there.

  • Real Mums

    Okay, I hardly ever do meme’s, but I like this one alot.

    Jenty tagged me for this meme about Real Mums.

    Apparently there is something about mutation too?

    “Proponents of memes suggest that memes evolve via natural selection in a way very similar to Charles Darwin’s ideas concerning biological evolution on the premise that variation, mutation, competition, and “inheritance” influence their replicative success. For example, while one idea may become extinct, other ideas will survive, spread and mutate for better or for worse through modification.”

    So we’re all about mutation and propagation here, people. As we’ve all already subdivided and had kids, let’s mutate! Add yours to the list.

    1. Real Moms don’t flinch when they talk about boobs. They do make you laugh your brains out.

    2. Real moms go on vacation. Real moms go on vacation and learn to play traffic cop.

    3. Real moms brag about their kids

    3. Real moms do not mince words when they present the truth.

    4. Real moms juggle

    5. Real moms “resist the guilt and embrace the journey”

    6. Real moms don’t give a damn to media generated Mommy Wars

    7. Real moms have kids with potty mouths.

    8.  Real moms sometimes forget about toddler-proofing

    And then there is mine…

    9. Real Mums sometimes forget to hide their ‘toys’ properly.

    ****

    I’m going to tag Lotus, Barbara, Debbie, Dawn and Jennifer.

    Because I’m sure the links they add will amuse me no end.

  • Not Nesting

    So a few weeks ago we started bring baby stuff out of storage to make sure it was okay. Some of it has been moved 3 or 4 times now.

    Like our bassinet. Our bassinet? Dead. It would probably be okay for another baby, but the wicker weave has started to come away from the base and there are pokey out staples everywhere. It would be a simple matter to fix it, but I simply cannot be bothered.

    Instead, we will just set up the cot in our bedroom and bypass a bassinet completely. I know from experience that little ones don’t spend all that much time sleeping in them anyway, tending to prefer sleeping on Mummy’s boobies.

    We also brought out the bouncer thingy that Amy spend alot of time sleeping in as a baby.

    We knew damn well that Amy would insist on sitting/bouncing/laying in it for a while and we wanted the novelty to wear off before the baby arrives. Personally, with how enamoured Amy is with the bouncer (despite being much too big for it and falling out occasionally) I’m not sure the novelty is ever going to wear off. She might get bored with it for a while, but I think once the baby is here we might have some issues with the bouncer.

    Ditto with the pram.

    Up until Amy was 12 months old, the only time she would nap was in the pram. I used to walk for HOURS with her in order to get her to sleep (I measured it once, it would take Amy about 1.5km to fall asleep if she was sleepy and longer if she was overtired). She eventually started napping in her cot around her first birthday.

    When she was about 15 months old and bigger, we retired the pram and bought a little umbrella stroller for when we were out shopping and stuff. The pram went to sit in a dusty corner in a spare room and then when we moved here, it ended up in the shed.

    So not too long ago, I grabbed the pram out of the shed and gave it a bit of a wipe over, washed the cover and brought it inside to get Amy used to having it about again.

    Unfortunately she now spends all her time clipping herself into the pram and yelling ‘Help Mummy! Click! Click!’ and needing me to unclip her.

    Sigh.

    Not to mention the fact that every time I turn around, Amy is wearing another article of clothing that is meant to be for the baby.

    I’m sorry Amy, but a 2 yo does not fit into a newborn growsuit, no matter how creatively you twist it.

    Funnily enough, Amy does fit into the baby’s pants. Heh, who knew that size 000 and size 2 pants actually all have the same waist measurement.

    [Also, I need to add, as I’m writing this, Amy just wandered past singing ‘bedtime, bedtime’ to herself, while sucking on a bottle teat. I thought I’d thrown all our old teats out, but obviously not. She’s just wandered into my room, wonder how long she will occupy herself in there?]

    [about 2 minutes]

    All round though she has been pretty good.

    Although, I am almost dreading setting up the cot. God, how is that going to work? We plan to do the three sided cot thing that we did with Amy with the cot up against our bed; at least for the first few months.

    Speking of cots, I don’t have any idea where the bolts to put the cot together are. Nathan swears he does, but I’m not sure I believe him.

    Excuse me while I go and turn our house upside down looking for them.

    ***

    Also as an aside, it’s my birthday today! 20 years old.

    I feel so much older, hehe.

  • Remembrance Day

    Lest We Forget