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So, on Saturday morning at 08:00, Albert’s mother and her hubby rocked up at my house without so much as a text to say they were coming. Now if she had just come to see Rees (who is her grandson too, obviously) I would have been pissed but I would have understood. I would have made an effort, anyway.
But no. They had been kicked out where they were staying, and had been sleeping at the cop shop for two nights. Now what they wanted was a shower.
Seriously?
I mean, who rocks up at their son’s ex-girlfriend (who’s had nothing to do with him for almost a year and is now living with her PARENTS) ‘s house at 8AM and asks if they can use they shower? Are you kidding me?
We let them use the shower. We even gave them breakfast. And then we spent the rest of the day hoping they didn’t come back and ask for a place to sleep.
She didn’t even look at Rees!
These were taken a bit closer to his actual birth (within two hours, I think). As you can see, he was much less pretty then.
Not nearly as pretty as here, for example. Even though here he’s still a little yellow.
And now, he is much bigger (I’m having a struggle producing enough milk to feed him) and so terribly handsome!
My gran died quite suddenly last Tuesday. She went into hospital on Sunday with tummyache. On Monday she was a little better, on Tuesday afternoon she was much worse, and on Tuesday night before we could get there, she passed on.
We had our differences – many of them – but I loved her to bits.
She was a great lady and will be greatly missed.
So, on Thursday, 27 August, I went into hospital. I had hypertension and they thought I had swine flu. Friday night, I went into labour, and on Saturday, 29 August at 05:55 AM, Rees-Nicolas came into the world. He did this in grand style, in one grand push, screaming his little head off. I was a little out of it at the time, having actually given birth wearing a surgical mask (don’t ask me why) and thus suffering from oxygen deprivation, but i am informed that it was probably the easiest labour in human history.
He promptly developed pathological jaundice due to blood incompatibility, and we’ve been home only since last Wednesday. But he’s fine now, pink and healthy and all that.
More pictures to come on Friday!
The cot? has been sanded. Now all that remains is to actually paint it. Yay!
- Albert moved to Johannesburg (which – yay! –means I’ll probably never see him again)
- My father had a heart attack (which sucked, obviously)
- I did not vote in the national elections.
- My feet turned into this
- I broke down in tears because there was no milk for my coffee (and now I’m sorry for everyone whose PMS I ever laughed at, because this? Is so much worse.
- I got made up to look like an Indian (possibly an Indian. Not really sure what it’s meant to be. I think I looked pretty, though.)
- I talked Marcel into letting my cousin make-up him. She didn’t turn him into a pirate, which I think is unfair.
- My dad got into a fight with a blesbok (which is a kind of antelope with really sharp horns and a nasty temper). It nearly disembowelled him, and he tore his shoulder to hell. This was after the heart attack, mind you. It was Monday, in fact.
- I found out I’m having a boy, contrary to expectations.
- I started writing again
- I installed Windows 7, which not only takes the Cake of Awesome, but eats some of it and smooshes the rest into your face so you look like a clownhead.
- I installed Windows Live Writer. Can you see I’m having fun with it?
- Mood:
artistic
34 weeks, in case anyone was wondering, is 8.5 months. That’s eight and a half… if I give birth in 3 weeks, my baby will not be premature.
Is that not a terrifying thought? Firstly – in three weeks, it’ll be my birthday. No sane woman wants a baby for her birthday, because excruciating agony is not the way to spend your birthday.
And secondly – hands up anyone who thinks I’m ready to be a mom? In three weeks? Thought not. Of course, three weeks, three months or three years…I probably still won’t be ready to be a mom. You’re never ready to be a mom.
Thirdly and most practically – There is, as yet, no cot for my baby. Or rather there is one, but it’s not finished yet. Let us all join in a chorus and say *weeble!*
Please check out This Blog. It’s a serial children’s story, and I wand EVERYONE’S opinion!
Just go have a look. Promise you won’t be disappointed!
- Your ass will expand to gargantuan proportions
- You will walk like Godzilla – and nobody ever bothers to mention that this walk is not due to just being TOO FAT TO MOVE PROPERLY, but because of actual PAIN!
- You will cry for no apparent reason.
- You will want to scream at people (and if you think you can get away with it, you will.)
- Your brain will shrink to the size of an acorn.
- So will your bladder.
- Everything else, up to and including your feet, will grow. And grow, and grow, and grow…
- You will cry the first time you feel the baby kick.
- You will hate the father of your baby every time you struggle out of bed in the middle of the night for yet another pee break (in my case, I hate him already, so I should probably say hate him more.)
- It is the single most worthwhile biological function you will EVER PERFORM. (and men can’t do it, neener neener neener)
Technically, people do sort of imply nr.10, but they rarely actually come out and say it. And I think that it’s important that people take note of the fact that pregnancy is the most important thing a human being can ever do. And men can’t. Hahahahahahahahaha!
Apparently. Colour me stunned. He did say it might still turn out to be a girl, though, so I might still be right. If it’s a boy…God help me, he might turn out like Albert!
Boy was I wrong.
Anyway, off to buy some blue stuff!
Finally, I am able to write again. It’s amazing, the freedom I suddenly have to express myself. DOWN WITH WRITER’S BLOCK!
And here is a picture of my baby, as she was last week Monday.
Maybe she looks like a tiny little gorilla now, but just you wait!
So, anyone got suggestions for names?
For a girl i like Mae, Claire, Grace and Kathryn. And Seven, but I’m not seriously considering that last one.
For a boy…Lucius? Luc? Jean-Luc? Alexander? HELP! I have literally no names for boys!
Is that cool or WHAT?
I’m so excited I can hardly breathe. I’m 17 weeks, and convinced it’s gonna be a girl. All hail my little one!
Her family is looking for people with comparable symptoms, who may or may not have had some success with treatments.
These are the symptoms:
- a. Has had similar rapid weakening, going from healthy to paralyzed very quickly
- b. Teenage girl, with recent onset of menses (periods)
- c. Have had similar treatments: IVIG, plasmapheresis, multiple
forms of steroids and Cytoxin (an immunosuppressant), a “mitochondrial
cocktail” of antioxidants, and lithium and riluzole - d. Recent HPV vaccine
- e. Possibly family history of neural diseases, such as seizures and/or palsies
- f. Possibly had an auto-immune condition in the past, such as a rare skin condition like pityriasis lichenoides
- g. Possible heavy-metal exposure, for example aluminum or environmental mercury exposure.
Her family's blog is at http://jenjensfamily.blogspot.com/
Large numbers of prisoners are dying in prison, and many have now made the case that these prisoners should be allowed to go home and die with their families.
Which is all well and good, and a clear case of tempering Justice with Mercy, as is right and proper.
But is it really? We are so very concerned about Mercy, that it seems to me that Justice has fallen by the wayside.
Where was Mercy when these men raped children? Where was Mercy when they brutally murdered people in their homes, or shot them in cold blood because they were 'inconvenient'?
The answer? Mercy was nowhere to be found.
My Wise Sister-in-Law said (wisely, of course) that you can't pay with more than your life. Which is very true. Many of these men would not be dying now if they hadn't gone to jail, so in a sense they are paying with their lives.
But here's the thing: 99% of them do not care. It's a well known fact that if you go to jail, unless you're very fast or you have some serious connections, you will be raped. Repeatedly and violently. And there's a very good chance you will get AIDS from it.
Everyone knows this. But they still do it. They still think they can do whatever they please, to whomever they like, and there will be no consequences.
I'm not saying that male rape in prison is a good thing, don't get me wrong.
It's a horrible thing, and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.
But it is a consequence.
And when the government is so concerned with tempering Justice with Mercy that Justice has gone out the window, we need those consequences.
Think about this: in Saudi Arabia, consequences for crime are clear, immediate and more often than not severe. Allright, some of the things they consider crimes are not in the Western mind, crimes at all, but the point is that there are consequences. If you murder, you die. It's a simple equation, and it works.
Because they are less concerned with the rights of the criminals than the rights of the citizens.
In the West, it's often the other way 'round.
If our Mercy was more tempered with Justice, the world might be a different place.
So we've decided to take a little break - a month to be exact. I'm staying with my brother for a month, and Albert's going to be at home.
Not sure if that's a good thing, but at this point it seems like the best of all possible options.
In any case, I'm freaking out a little. Stopped myself phoning him randomly at least four times. Have got to stop doing that, as he feels caged and that I'm too demanding.
I actually do think that this might be a goog thing. I have many many issues, and I do need to work on them. So that's what I'm going to be doing this month - working out my issues.
Also, getting fitter. There's a swimming pool, and also it's very hilly in the complex they live in, so walking will help. And they eat very healthy.
My goal is to lose at least another 10 or 15 kilos before I go home.
Anyway, so that's where I am now. Sorting out my issues, stressing about my relationship, and wondering whether everything will be okay.
No Internet 9Oh, internet, why hast thou forsaken me?) and nothing to do.
Am currently planning to take job offer for below-minimum wage, as Merlin is desperately in need of food.
So am I, come to think of it...
Will update again hen I can get online, which probably won't be soon.
Because apparently I should have.
In any case.
I have finished The Naked God, and it's like a genie popped out of nowhere to grant me all my wishes. I really loved that book.
In other news, Albert was an Asshole Royal last night - dragging me out to his friends' place until ten when he knows I have to be at work at six, and then fucking off to some other friends untill bloody midnihgt. He also said they phoned him to go, but I was tired, not deaf. They never phoned him. So either he went there out of his own will, or he never went there at all. And thus was out doing godknowswhat with godknowswho. He also smoked all my cigarettes.
To sum up: I hate my job, I love the book, and Albert is a pain.
