Ways to get Free Stuff

It's always going to be weird when you have to tell your parents you're pregnant. You may as well be screaming in your father's face "I HAD SEX!!!!!!!! and LOTS of it!!!!!"........ awkward.

Due to a major coincidence my mum is actually travelling in London to see me, so I had to tell her my news. I decided to wait until the first day we had to spend together, rather than blurting it out then having to run to work at 7.30am and coming home at midnight leaving her to stew on that all day.

When we did have the day to ourselves I came across lots of places not to tell your mother you are pregnant;

in the off-licence.
in front of the banksy.
at the market where the guy is selling bootleg reggae CD's.
at the coffee shop surrounded by loud smokers.

basically, once that cat is out of the bag there's no putting it back in. maybe not telling your mother makes it less real, because making it real means OH MY GOD BROKEN VAGINA!!!!!!!.

I couldn''t think of any way to segue into that conversation either.

"i ate so much last night i gave birth to a food baby this morning!.. and also a real baby in 8 months time..."

scene: whilst squeezing avocado's at the fruit stall "imagine trying to squeeze a baby out the size of that! i'll be doing that for real pretty soon"

luckily none of those scenes came to pass.

instead it was more like like this:

scene: outside the cutesy baby boutique in Notting Hill
me: "I just need to get something from in here.."
- unfortunately there is a sign on the door saying 'back in 5'
instead of going inside we go to the Popcorn shop where I buy a giant tub of cheesy popcorn and eat it in the space of 30 seconds. Then we go to an art gallery and look at paintings of nude men for 5 minutes.
we go back to the shop which is now Open. We are the only people in the shop.
me: (picks up tiny little shirt) "i'm going to buy this"
mum: who for?
me: "me... cause i'm pregnant"
mum: "for real?"
me: "yes for real"
-cue mum crying in the change room, and the lady who runs the shop standing around awkwardly.
me: (takes little shirt to the check out) "i'll just buy this then..."
shopkeep: "consider it free, considering what I just witnessed"

so take this as my advice - make the scene as awkward as possible, because you might just get some free clothes out of it.

Pokerbump

I really think Lady Gaga is missing a trick in her global empire of stuff that she releases. We've got; music, filmclips, books, perfume.... but what is missing is a book about Pregnancy.

She could call it 'Lady Gaga's Guide to Little Monsters. Going Gaga for your Baby'.

She could release a CD/Pregnancy book with songs to go along to with the Chapter Titles.

Pokerface: ma ma pokerbump, ma ma pokerbump.
Judas: Mucas! Mu-ca-haas.. Mucas! Mu-ca-haas.
Lovegame: Let's have some fun, whilst you feel sick, go and have a pee on this pregnancy stick.
Fame: Pain! doing it for the Pain! doing it for the Pain, cause you've got a baby coming out of your vagina.
Alejandro: Epi-Epi-Dural, Epi-Epi-Dural.
Telephone: Stop Pushin, Stop Pushin, I don't want to push anymore! I'll give birth to my baby on the dancefloor.
Paparazzi: Baby you can cut me, hopefully I tear easily, Epi-Episiotomy.
Bad Romance: Whoa Whoa Whoa Whoa Whoa, caught in a Bad Contraction.

Then when they sew you up at the end of it, they give you the Lady Gaga Special.

Paranoid Innit

apparently my zygote is now the size of a tadpole, so i'm updating the nickname from Goaty, to Tad.

Tad. Sounds like a strapping young man who plays sports like Lacrosse and sleeps with the entire cheerleading team, but is actually secretly very gay and having a relationship with Tim the science lab nerd.....it also sounds like Tad hails from america. like Totally!

I'm coming up with names, and I want something retro. I'm thinking something like: Cassette. You know that by the time my babies generation grows up the cassette tape with be a footnote in history like the penny farthing, and the phonograph. I'll just tell them it's French for 'Girl With Music'.

It's early days, but I am paranoid about everything. I am being secretively extremely over the top about it too. For instance this morning I was having my morning glass of berocca when I had a thought mid-sip that you might not be able to drink Berocca when you're pregnant and I spat it all back into my glass. There's no explaining that to a room full of co-workers without sounding suspicious.

I'm also paranoid about;

Omega 3 Vitamins.
doing the photocopying.
using the binding machine.
going over speed bumps.
moisturiser.
cooking with wine.

but the most ridiculous thing I am doing is this: every time I start to feel a bit moist 'down there' I quickly run to the bathroom and stare at the crotch in my underpants. I stare at it at least 6 times a day. I never used to do that before.

My boobs aren't any bigger, but they've always been a talking point amongst my co-workers and friends, so I'm looking forward to being able to rest one boob on someone's head.

I Mourn My Jeans

I've done the incredibly hard pregnancy arithmetic, and I am now in my 6th week.  I am equal parts elated, laughing hysterically, and bursting into tears.

Being the major drama queen I am a hypochondriac, I am pretty sure that my jeans don't fit me anymore. I had to sit at my desk with one button undone today, which could either mean I was too fat for my jeans to begin with, or that little Goaty (that's what I choose to call my zygote) is actually growing at an alien rate and by my due date i'll be size of Susan Boyle P.W (pre-win).

I forgot what i'm doing when I'm doing it. At work today I made a million mistakes I wouldn't be surprised if they demoted me back to reception.

I'm really into Bon Jovi. I don't care who knows it. I can only deal with wholesome and heartfelt music, and something about the Lyrics to 'Always' are really striking some lame-deep seated need to listen to honest soft rock. I hope this is a symptom of pregnancy that wears off, or maybe one that I get instead of getting a facial rash or leaky boobs.

I was really looking forward to buying a new pair of jeans. My incredibly self-centred 'to-do' list only has about 3 things on it "buy eyeliner/buy more cardigans/buy new jeans" but now what's the point?the whole point of new jeans is to get a really tight and perfect fitting pair that makes your butt look amazing, and my butt is about to grow to the size of melons. I should write a new list to include; buy stretchy pants/buy more stretchy pants/buy bigger stretchy pants.

I really want to tell EVERYONE. But I know you're not supposed to tell anyone for another 6 weeks.. so I have told....9 people. Some of those people had only known me less than 4 hours, but sometimes news like that is better out than in. Otherwise i'm sure i'd come down with some illness caused by trying to keep a secret in for 12 weeks. Not Happening.

I feel nauseas, irritable, and crampy. The thought of runny eggs make me want to be sick. I will have to come up with some excuse for not eating all the eggs at work tomorrow - given we have the caterer coming in and everyone in my office knows me as "5 Eggs Girl" due to my greedy disposition for eating all the eggs on shoot days. What if they know something is up? maybe I'll have to just take the eggs anyway and hide them around my desk. Then i'll forget about them and someone will open my desk drawer - pull out the Positive Pregnancy Test and an old soft poached egg and then the jig will really be up!

I've only just realised how gross it is to have my pregnancy test still in my desk drawer at work. That means i've effectively put my urine enzymes all over everything in there. Oh i'm going to have a good snicker next time someone comes along and has the gall to open my drawer and steal my pen.

That will go down in history as the first Practical Joke Goaty ever played on anyone.