Foreign Policy & Freedom

I love Saturday mornings … an 8am lie in is plenty enough for an early bird like me [and by that time I REALLY need to pee!]. Two whole days of freedom, with laundry and food shopping thrown in, and a party tonight. Let’s rock this bump on the dance-floor. Liberation!

Last night before bed, I caught up with “Our Girl” on the iPlayer. I like Lacey Turner, and remember watching the one off special they produced last year. It made me strangely emotional [hormones?] considering yesterday’s vote for strikes on Iraq. I was born in the midst of the Falklands War, and it seems every generation has it’s own conflict, although with weaponry getting more advanced and dare we mention the N word, it gets a little scary.On a global scale, I remain bemused that we haven’t learnt lessons from the history of conflict; yet on a human level, I feel immensely for the soldiers [and their families] being deployed. I used to take the harsher view, that if you joined the army,  you had to expect to be sent to war – it’s written on the tin etc. Yet perhaps the military appeals because of the associated “adventure” and routine, an opportunity to travel, and avoid the 9-5 day job. Either way, I thought “Our Girl” was brilliant, and will be watching again tomorrow. Brave men and women facing their fears far from home … fighting for us whether we want them to or not [whether they want to or not …]. Do I agree with the vote on Iraq? I remember standing on a decrepit balcony in Calcutta, in 2003, trying to tune a crackly handheld radio to BBC World Service, listening to reports from the fresh war in Iraq. 11yrs ago. I think our mistake was joining Bush in the first place [thanks Tony] – you can’t just blitz a country, kill their albeit evil dictator, leave it in an utter mess, and expect respect from the citizens whose lives you’ve ruined. Total fuel for the likes of ISIS.

Gosh, that was a bit heavy for 8.20am on a Saturday. In a strange way, being preggers, I tend to think about things in a different way … I find myself sitting at my desk formulating the kind of childhood I want my child to have; what values and philosophies I’d like to share with them. I’ve touched on this before, and no doubt will again in the coming months. I’ve also thought a lot more about my own childhood, and the huge debt of gratitude we owe our own parents for devoting so much of their lives to our own. Amazing how much we take forgranted.

Midwife appointment went well this week, BP was normal [I’m such a fruitloop] baby’s little heart was chugging along like a train … and only two weeks until the next scan when hopefully baba will uncross his/her legs so I can start planning the nursery! Regardless it shall contain bunting, the family crib, and a rocking horse. Essentials, no?! Talking of which … I can only plan the nursery once I have a moving date! I’m hoping the solicitors will let me know in the coming week when we exchange contracts … everything seems to have gone smoothly so far. Excited much. My very own keys to my very own flat!

No doubt I shall keep you informed!


Patchworks quilts & Maternity coats

Getting used to my bump

 Getting used to my bumpI

I’m not sure when summer became autumn, but it feels very autumnal this evening. It’s not yet 8.30pm and I’m snuggled under my patchwork blanket about to settle for the night with a novel and mug of Horlicks [middle aged, you say …]. I quite like the freshness of the early mornings, the magical mist which hangs in the air as I drive to work … however, it does remind me that time is chuntering along rather quickly … time; time; time … time which slows down and speeds up at various points in life …. time which is measured in things ticked off a to-do list, in the cliched spoonfuls of coffee, birthday parties and chimes from the church clock. I find myself looking back and remembering how long school holidays used to seem, how being “grown up” seemed an eternity away [perhaps it still does!] – the magical season of childhood … and what a privilege it will be to introduce my own little baby to the world and all the exciting adventures and possibilities within it.

Today I won a maternity coat on eBay. This is very exciting, as I’m a little despondent at the dwindling choice of clothes I have to wear. It was also rather satisfying as I’d been watching it for a week. In other news, I made a chicken casserole for supper … and am trying desperately to fend off the household sniffles which have passed from Garry to Aby to me …. sneeze sneeze cough cough. The joys of house sharing.

I see my midwife on Wednesday morning. Last time I read an article on childbirth whilst in the waiting room. It wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had … as I said to my midwife; the least I know the better … no birth plans, no ante-fucking-natal classes telling me how to breathe. I’ll just show up on the day, take the gas and air, and do as I’m told. Idealistic again? I’m sure I’ll give a graphic blog desciption after the event … but I figure this is one of the most natural process a female body goes through … I’ve seen women give birth on pavements in Calcutta … so I have faith in my vagina ….

And on that note, I should probably be quiet. Goodnight campers.





Does my uterus look big in this?

Little cupcake at 12 weeks

Little cupcake at 12 weeks

This seemed the perfect occasion to create a new blog. Little cupcake has been cooking for 16weeks 3 days, and the miracle of life continues to amaze me. Wow to the growth of my breasts, the expansion of my stomach [and sadly, thighs and gluteus-maximus]. Wow to the fact that we all started out as a miniature person wiggling around in our mother’s womb, eating her food and playing havoc with her bladder. This is really happening to me. Pinch pinch. Now I’ve just got the small matter of moving house to contend with, Christmas, and then 2015 will be upon us. Preggers the same time as the Duchess too. Bingo. Welcome to the world of the grown ups.

It’s such an exciting journey to be embarking on, and I thought a little corner of cyberspace would be a good place to record the adventure. I spent the first 12 weeks either yawning, asleep, eating [gosh I’ve been HUNGRY; greedy little cupcake] – or staring into space in disbelief! Generally I think I’ve been really lucky so far, no puking or nausea, just an insatiable desire for glasses of cold milk or huge pieces of steak. Give me the cow etc.

I’ve predicted a little boy since the beginning, but I get to find out in a few weeks at my 20 week scan. I have no preference, but my instinct says boy. I have a Doppler, and every morning I listen to the heartbeat chugging along like a steam train …. incredible incredible incredible.

In the rare quiet moments between work and sleep and FOOD, and house purchasing …. I try to formulate my parenting philosophies and what sort of mother I hope to be. It is such a balance, such a responsibility. I’ve had so many enriching experiences in life, from my travelling days, volunteering, university etc. and what I hope for little cupcake is to be brought up first and foremost knowing that he/she is loved unconditionally … that I will always be there to talk to, to listen, and to give one of those big warm hugs we all need from time to time. I want my child to know that it is okay to be different, to think outside the box … that life is precious and short and to be embraced to the full. I want them to know that most people are good, kind people, trying their best – and not to be caught up in the culture of fear. I want them to play outside and enjoy the fresh air … to form opinions and read books … I hope they will grow up slightly fearless, knowing that whatever they do, whatever they like; I will do my best to support it. I want them to laugh a lot and never take life too seriously.

That may all sound terribly idealistic – and I don’t see parenting as some marshmellowy sugary fun factory …. but hey, this is my blog, and I’m just airing the things rumbling around my head this Saturday evening.

I’m sure I’ll be back again soon … in the meantime, I need to sort out my stretchy clothes and I really need to invest in a maternity bra … miraculous things are happening to my usually B cupped breasts. The weight of them!!!!!!!!