Archive | March, 2013

Week 32: The Replacements – Sorry Ma, Forgot To Take Out The Trash

29 Mar

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I’m going to go out there and say The Replacements are one of the greatest bands of all time. Go on go on go on. You know it’s true.

I have lost the ability to listen to (or, in fact, DO) anything challenging. I am rolling round and round in a world of old and comforting favourites like Placemats. I spent last weekend clearing through my CDs, torn between a nesting urge to get rid of everything I haven’t listened to in 10 years and being emotionally wracked by anything that brought back memories (that was most things) and being unable to consign a single thing to the bin pile. Needless to say, I gained very little in the way of space. What I DO have is a new and overwhelming urge to listen to Planes Mistaken For Stars and Life Detecting Coffins. Maybe I’ll have better luck at getting rid of stuff when I clear out the shoe cupboard. Or… maybe not.

Nesting (it’s a real thing apparently, and it’s happening to me) is not only giving rise to clear-outs, it’s prompting a compulsive need to clean and bake. The sad thing is that I appear to do neither very well any more, falling asleep halfway through the former, and forgetting to buy any of the right ingredients for the latter leading to some horrific “improvisations” and leading to nothing but more cleaning up and a pervading sense of my own failure.

Luckily it’s Easter and we have a joyful four days off for me to indulge these new “favourite” hobbies, plus also sleeping and eating which I could currently win Olympic events at . We’ll also be celebrating six whole years of being Team Braz-Smyth tomorrow as our two year wedding anniversary on June 4th is likely to rather dominated by the arrival of a tiny and exhausting bundle. Large chocolate eggs and much lolling on the sofa drinking tea seem to be the order of celebrations- it’s amazing how exciting I’m finding the prospect. Sam has spent the entirety of our relationship trying to get me to sit down and chill the fuck out, and I think it’s finally worked.

 

 

 

Week 31: Sly & The Family Stone – Stand

19 Mar

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Happy birthday Sly Stone! 70 today and still funky.

When I’m 70, our little boy will be 37.  Some people think you should hold back on imagining your child’s life for them, but really, who can resist? It’s like a birthday party or a wedding or meeting a famous person – impossible not to daydream about what it might be like, however hard you try. I wondered what my kids might be like even before I was pregnant, and now it’s an itch I can’t stop scratching.

I don’t waste time wondering what his career will be or any of that. I have learned the hard way that what you are on paper might not say that much about who you are as a person. But I do like to think about his personality – the things he will more than likely not escape with his gene pool (stubborness, independence, a stupid sense of humour) and the things that could go either way – will he be shy or loud or something inbetween? Technical or artistic or neither? Or both? It’s too much fun not to wonder. I wonder about things all the time, and then they never turn out the way I expect. That’s half the fun of having your head in the clouds.

I am going to be very good and not be melodramatic about my tooth this week – instead I am setting it as a pain benchmark and wondering how much labour will surpass it by, in a very detached and scientific way. The antibiotics have helped enormously but I’m still feeling cross about the lack of anti-inflammatories I’m allowed and worrying about how I’ll cope as it heals following my extraction which is booked for next week. There should be some rules about not having to go through this when you’ve already got a list of antenatal ailments as long as two pairs of arms. And also just as Easter lands and my one year of guilt-free chocolate consumption will have the mockers well and truly put on it. These things are important, you know.

Will also not be melodramatic about being first trimester tired again, recurrent bad back or the fact that work is horrible and I still have five weeks to go until I finish. WILL NOT. Will not.

Instead I will look in awe at this very exciting being wriggling underneath my t-shirt and wonder what it will be like when he’s taller than me.

 

Week 30: Stars Of The Lid- And Their Refinement Of The Decline

10 Mar

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I went to Italy and it rained and I slept and that was the best thing for me. I could have done without Tooth Of Doom rearing up halfway through and preventing me from eating The Delicious Things, but a week off work has still been liquid gold and I can’t complain a bit. My Sam is very patient. I’m glad he doesn’t mind being a lazy bones.

Now, however, things are not fun. It’s all about somehow keeping up strength and nutrition on a liquid diet and trying to sleep through the pain and being sick all over the place (why is that? is this first tri again?), which is all really rather annoying as I was quite rested by Wednesday and even felt a bit psychologically prepared for going back to work. I feel wrathful that, as ever, there is so little pain relief that anyone is prepared to say I can take, so I’m having to minor dose in order to get sleep in more than 30 minute blasts. I am unapologetically grumpy and scared. I have never been in this much pain for so long. I dream about codeine and tramadol and I fantasise about smashing my jaw with a hammer or drowning in a long bath, just to have some rest.

I’m choosing music for birthing, which is why I’m listening to this Stars Of The Lid record this week. It’s at the very least interesting to see how fear through pain can be managed, how to relax and think around pain, and how much harder it is to move away from a fear reaction when the pain you’re going through is due to something being wrong with your body rather than a natural process that our bodies have evolved to perform.

This might change nearer the time, but I can honestly say I feel more anxious about how I’ll cope after our baby is born than I feel worried about labour. I feel about labour the way I feel about a long, hard run – I’ll get through it because I want to do it, because I’m completely focused and I want the prize.

This tooth though. This tooth can fuck right off.

Week 29: No Doubt – Tragic Kingdom

2 Mar

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It’s just a week to listen to this record, it just is.  A full album I know every single word to and can’t hear without singing every one and pretending to myself that I might sound even vaguely like Gwen.

Not only has the sun started to come out just a tiny bit, which always makes things better, I’m also busy throwing things that still vaguely fit into a suitcase ready to jet off to Florence on one last fabulous holiday before our family gets bigger by a whole person.

I have never been this excited about a holiday.

I feel the exact feeling I used to feel just before summer holidays at school. This might be because my job feels more like school than ever. Also because I am starting to get really tired again and am beyond ready to collapse for a few days. Forcing myself to stay up til 9 is getting to be a real fight, and the idea of having full days with no plans where I can sleep when I want to, go out when I want to, eat when I want to, and generally loaf about and not do anything if I don’t want to is utterly blissful. I also showed enormous foresight by getting us a proper nice hotel for the first time in our lives so if I want to spend the full six days getting pruney in the bathtub then I’ll only be getting our money’s worth and I shan’t feel an ounce of guilt.

I promise to bring you lots of beautiful pictures, but seeing as Sam tried to take one of me yesterday and declared “I can’t make the camera make you look pregnant. You just look like a chubber!” I think we might be skipping any of me for a while.

Happy March everyone. I hope you have something happy to look forward to this month, even if it’s just listening to some super-awesome 90s alternative pop music for the rest of the day.