Rollercoaster

So I’ve had a bit of a week! My waters broke at 30 weeks, without contractions. Then a few days later, I started going into labour. They gave me some drugs to stop them, which have worked. Now I’m at a special hospital that can take care of very little bubbas, just in case he decides to enter the world early.

I haven’t been through something this tumultuous in so long. My coping mechanisms are a little rusty, but I know that I don’t feel as unhinged as I would have before.

The difference is Tim. I’m worried sick about the bubba, but Tim is my anchor and not just because he is strong. He is also my home, my safety, my stability, and my protector. I’m not afraid of fully feeling my fear.

And I haven’t had any dreams about stairs.

So even though I am in an awful, scary situation, I know I’ll survive. And that’s not too shabby at all.

 

Unplugged

As soon as I drop Josh off at school I plug my headphones in an I blast my latest favourite tunes to block out all other noise. I am plugged in till I step off the elevator at work.

But lately I’ve been playing the baby music from my iphone during my daily commute. The baby gets a little Beatles, a little Rufus and a little Coldplay. To avoid having to listen to the same six songs twice a day I don’t plug in anymore.

It’s opened up a whole new world of sound to me. I’ve realised that being plugged in has allowed the narrow minded part of me to grow. By blocking out the world for two small parts of my day, I was allowing myself to ignore a huge slice of life.

This made me less tolerant of other people when I wasn’t plugged in. I would easily become irritated listening to other people talk to each other. I was disconnected from life at large.

It’s taken a while but lately I’ve found myself smiling at the snippets of conversations I hear everyday, whether it’s on the mobile or between friends or colleagues. Even teenagers, who once drove me bananas with their inane conversation, can make me chuckle.

Could this be related to the whole i phenomena? We have iphones, twitter, facebook, myspace, youtube. Why are we so focussed on ourselves? Why are so attached to our idea of what is good or bad or right or wrong?

We are surrounded by real people every day. Why do we have to search so hard for a connection when we can learn so much from the variety of people around us?

 

He speaks the truth! Kinda.

I can’t say I agree with this guy completely, but he’s definitely touched on something that has always made me uncomfortable about these aid concerts, and he’s written it brilliantly.

I do agree 100% on what he says about day to day compassion – most people have no compassion for one another when it comes to non-concert life, especially in big cities. I’ve seen countless examples of this myself – including the many people who will not give up their precious train seat for the elderly, injured or pregnant. But to give a little balance, every now and then I do see wonderful random acts of kindness, and they give me heart.

 

What I can’t tell you now

The three month waiting period before you can officially announce to the world that you’re knocked up feels like an eternity. Here’s a short list of things I was dying to share with the world at the time, but couldn’t.

1. I didn’t get morning sickness. I got morning, noon and night sickness. They told me that in order to keep nausea at bay I have to eat. But eating was the last thing I wanted to do. Every morning I forced a dry biscuit down in order to stop myself from throwing up on the train.

2. I was even more emotional than I am normally. I used to cry at commercials for tissues. The other day I found myself blubbering when I saw Michelle Obama give Laura Bush a gift at Obama’s inauguration. At the end of Gran Torino, I was crying so much that I went through two large face towel napkins.

3. My knockers were, and still are, unbelievably huge. I could seriously do an injury to myself. They seem to have a life of their own and get mighty pissed off if I disturb them in any way.

4. I’m getting fat at an alarming rate, and I’m not allowed to do any exercise.

5 .When I hit the 3pm wall at work, I crashed right through to another wall made of some impenetrable material and remained stuck there like an exhausted splat of a human being.

6. Every indiscretion got blamed on my pregnant state. My boys created cruel nick names for me like “Project P” and “MS” (Mother Ship), and would roll their eyes knowingly if I raised my voice even slightly.

Ah… it feels good to complain!

 

Slap me Sally

I first watched “When Harry Met Sally” when I was a chubby pre-pubescent teen, with a penchant for McDonald’s thickshakes.

As I was watching the scene where Sally slaps Harry for saying he had pity sex with her, I was still thinking about the preceding scene where she throws away a perfectly good prawn-based canape. “What I waste! I would so eat that before a fight,” my greedy 12-year-old mind thought.

Watching the same scene a few years later as a full blown teenager, I was mortified that they would have such an open display of emotion in front of complete strangers. I blushed with embarrassment for both Harry and Sally – I couldn’t believe that they would let the kitchen staff know they had sex.

In my early twenties, I was firmly in the sisterhood and cheered Sally on for slapping the stupid idiot. How dare he impose his paternal and egotistical mindset on a strong and independent woman!

The other day, I channel flicked into this movie and found myself at this same scene again. As a married woman with a step-son, my first reaction was to chuckle. It was really amusing to me that human beings waste so much energy agonising over the choice that they have already made.

Then I got a bit teary because I was so exhausted and hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in I don’t know how long and was all tired and emotional. Then I thought about prawns.