It'll come in handy, methinks, when it comes to working out how to stick a nappy on.
80% of babies by this stage are head down, so I was thinking that the roundy solid thing poking out with great regularity below my ribs was his butt, and was feeling very pleased with myself when I trotted off to the obstetrician on Wednesday. However, this is, of course, our child, and statistics supporting any norm be damned, the little demon is cheerfully breech and the roundy solid thing is his noggin. His large noggin. In fact, the exact words of the obstetrician, after he asked who ate all the pies (yes, he did) were "That's a big noggin" as he measured away, and the husband stifled a snort while I groaned. Although it may not be an issue when push comes to shove, or, rather, doesn't (here's hoping). There may be fittage issues vis a vis a kiddly head and a mummy pelvis, in which case, I have been given a pre-emptive 'our priority is to ensure a safe delivery of baby, the health of the mother, and we will do what is best when it comes to the birth' which really was quite unnecessary ... they could put two sunroofs in for all I care at the moment. That head looked big even to my untrained eye.
Anyway, we'll see.
We're otherwise healthy as a horse - some of us more horse like than others of course, although it's a competition between me and Cuinn as to who is growing faster. He's up to 2lb 11oz (1214 grams), so he's doubled in size, and apparently the general rule of thumb is that between now and his due date he should triple that. And by 'general rule of thumb' I'd say that by the veiled smirk on my obstetrician's face, the fact that we've bucked the trend from day one with the little demon, one should probably just rely on the kiddly likely being enormous. Excellent.
Next visit to the obstetrician = last 4 week visit to the obstetrician.
Also, just as an aside, I'm wondering if it's entirely appropriate that my concern at this point with the possibility of a c-section is that I won't be transferred to Birthcare afterwards, but will have to kick back at Auckland Hospital. Ergo, I doubt there will be creme brulee. Very uncool.
Oh, and different topic altogether. Ack. Halloween is tonight. I think. There seem to be an inordinate amount of pumpkins and cobwebs about which tends to suggest. And that means that there will be countless numbers of little kids flooding the neighbourhood, not wearing even a hint of a costume, making for our front door to ask for lollies. In lieu of a sign telling them to go away because they usually ignore that anyway, I've just not fed the dogs. That should ensure ... well, not peace and quiet by any stretch (have you ever heard our dogs tell us we have visitors? It's the anti-peace and quiet I can assure you), but at least the only sightings of little kids not wearing a hint of a costume will be them running back down the path as fast as their little legs will carry them, having made it only part way to the door.
Friday 31 October 2008
Tuesday 28 October 2008
So yeah ... 28 weeks ...
And no, I can't believe it either. 12 weeks to go. 12 weeks! Eek! Actually, eek from the perspective of time running out, but also eek from the perspective of I'm kinda the size now that I thought I'd be full term. Uhhhmmm ... Oooerrr. 12 more weeks of kiddly growing.
Mind you, maybe, maybe not. IVF kiddlies have a bit of a habit of coming early apparently (yes, I know google isn't a medical authority, however) so Al and I are thinking that an appearance at the 38/39 week mark might be nice thankyouverymuch. Then again, I don't know that it's so much a case of them coming early (if you discount the 28ish weekers whose super-early arrivals I am inclined to think perhaps relate to the issues that required IVF in the first place), or that conception is extremely accurate, but calculated the same way in everyone. Does that make sense? Hopefully, although I really don't care if it doesn't. The whole brain-don't-go thing really does add a dimension of serenity to one's existence.
Having said that, serenity aside, I'm still a bit dark about having to do antenatal classes, which incidentally start next week (7pm-9pm! How the hell am I supposed to stay awake till 9pm? Honestly! Do they realise they're dealing with pregnant women at these things? We're supposed to stay awake and absorb information. Yeah. Right. Mind you, it could be advantageous falling asleep at about 7.10pm considering some of the stuff they want to talk about at those things. Episi ... you do what now? *shudder* Epidural? Yes. Definitely. I want five please. The husband will just take the gas. And a blindfold probably. And a chair which will allow him to keep his head between his knees for the duration of the fun stuff. And someone exceptionally large (or several normal sized someones) to catch him when he faints if he's stupid enough to take a squiz at the business end. There'd better be blimmin creme bruleee on the menu at Birthcare is all I can say.
Anyway. That whole 12 weeks to go thing was supposed to be a segue of sorts into what we've been doing lately, not an entire post on whatever I was on about.
When the penny dropped (I heard a marvellous version of that saying the other day ... something about the penny dropping, rolling down something and clunking somewhere else ... it was very clever. Can't remember it though. I should have written it down) that Cuinn had reached the milestone whereby he'd have a fighting chance if he was born (actually what did it was re-booking for our obstetrician appointment tomorrow and realising that it's the second to last 4 week appointment before we go down to 2 weekly and then weekly check ups), it also dropped somewhat more loudly a wee while later that he could potentially be a toad and give us all hysterics, even though we're hoping that he's more his father than his mother, and that he's far too comfortable splayed out on his uterus couch playing whatever version of xbox he's got in there to be getting all impatient-like about this in utero growing business. But, you have to think of these things, and as soon as I did a vague but insistent sense of anxiety set in that I needed to get organised. Just in case. The husband did venture to suggest that if for some reason Cuinn did come this early, he'd be in hospital for ages so we'd have plenty of time to buy whatever we needed. I've pretty much been hoping ever since that no one will actually notice that the husband's gone missing and that there's a rather large patch of freshly turned earth in our back yard ...
I was very good - I made a list instead of just going shopping, and over about 2 weeks I thought about it, took things off it, put things on, changed quantities, stewed on why I wanted what I wanted and whether it was a valid reason (why did I 'need' 2 plastic bottles instead of glass ones, when plastic ones are 3 times the price? Maybe I did, maybe I didn't, though I did get them anyway on the basis that I'm perfectly happy with glass at home, but plastic for going in the baby bag, or to the park, or anywhere else it could be annihilated where it's not easy to clean up, seemed sensible) blah blah etc etc, and eventually managed to shave quite a bit off the end bill. I still have no idea whether I should have gone with onesies or separates, but I opted for half and half on the basis that whichever works out to be best, I can make do for a couple of months and then just run with my preference for the next size up (crap I forgot to get singlets for under separates).
I'm pretty sure that we have everything we'll need. I don't feel any anxiety that we don't anyway, even if we do end up finding out in due course that we have nothing we'll actually need and everything we'll probably never lay a hand on.
We also made sure that we had the carseat ready to go in the car by making sure that the anchor bolt was fitted, and that we had everything we needed eg. the belt extension we didn't have, but we found we needed when the car belt proved too short. And there there was the oh-bollocks-the-carseat-has-every-safety-feature-under-the-sun-but-doesn't-fit-in-the-backseat-of-the-car-rear-facing-reclined-for-a-newborn moment, and we found it necessary to add a baby capsule to the list. Argh. On which note, I'll say a very loud bless Pal Katherine for coming to the rescue on that front. I'm assuming it'll work like a charm - Jazz seemed to think it was all good anyway.
In a moment of uttery nesty-madness, I even cleaned out the wardrobe in his room and made sure it only had kiddly supplies stacked in it. Of course, that does sound a bit more impressive than it really is - although his wardrobe is nice and organised, I highly recommend not even thinking about opening the wardrobe door in the end spare room. I'm still not sure the best way to go about getting into that to clean it out when the mood strikes, assuming that it may do at some stage. Either that, or at some point, a guest is going to want to use it. I might wait a few weeks and then send the unsuspecting husband down there to retrieve something for me and let everything fall out of the wardrobe all over him. That really does seem like the best plan.
So muchos organisyos has been taking place over the last few weeks. That, and 'enjoying it while it lasts' has been the order of the day as far as sleep, relaxation and spending time together just spending time together, musing over whether the kid will be a ginger, and cursing the little demon when he goes to ground for a few days and refuses to move even so much as a muscle to let us know that he's perfectly happy and just having an extended snooze thanks.
Oooooh! There has been vege gardeny goodness though, which I'll tell you about and provide photos of. In the meantime, those of you who know me well can amuse yourselves having hysterics at the thought of me trying to do anything that involves plants, let alone edible ones (the husband won't even let me water the house plants because as soon as they see me they die), but I can assure you that so far all is well, because there aren't actually any plants involved yet. But, for now, I'm going to have a sleep.
Zzzzzzz...
(Also - just a wee end note ... if any of this doesn't make sense, I wouldn't hassle yourself complaining about it because I don't really care. Such is the joy of pregnancy-induced serenity from my perspective. Tra la la)
Mind you, maybe, maybe not. IVF kiddlies have a bit of a habit of coming early apparently (yes, I know google isn't a medical authority, however) so Al and I are thinking that an appearance at the 38/39 week mark might be nice thankyouverymuch. Then again, I don't know that it's so much a case of them coming early (if you discount the 28ish weekers whose super-early arrivals I am inclined to think perhaps relate to the issues that required IVF in the first place), or that conception is extremely accurate, but calculated the same way in everyone. Does that make sense? Hopefully, although I really don't care if it doesn't. The whole brain-don't-go thing really does add a dimension of serenity to one's existence.
Having said that, serenity aside, I'm still a bit dark about having to do antenatal classes, which incidentally start next week (7pm-9pm! How the hell am I supposed to stay awake till 9pm? Honestly! Do they realise they're dealing with pregnant women at these things? We're supposed to stay awake and absorb information. Yeah. Right. Mind you, it could be advantageous falling asleep at about 7.10pm considering some of the stuff they want to talk about at those things. Episi ... you do what now? *shudder* Epidural? Yes. Definitely. I want five please. The husband will just take the gas. And a blindfold probably. And a chair which will allow him to keep his head between his knees for the duration of the fun stuff. And someone exceptionally large (or several normal sized someones) to catch him when he faints if he's stupid enough to take a squiz at the business end. There'd better be blimmin creme bruleee on the menu at Birthcare is all I can say.
Anyway. That whole 12 weeks to go thing was supposed to be a segue of sorts into what we've been doing lately, not an entire post on whatever I was on about.
When the penny dropped (I heard a marvellous version of that saying the other day ... something about the penny dropping, rolling down something and clunking somewhere else ... it was very clever. Can't remember it though. I should have written it down) that Cuinn had reached the milestone whereby he'd have a fighting chance if he was born (actually what did it was re-booking for our obstetrician appointment tomorrow and realising that it's the second to last 4 week appointment before we go down to 2 weekly and then weekly check ups), it also dropped somewhat more loudly a wee while later that he could potentially be a toad and give us all hysterics, even though we're hoping that he's more his father than his mother, and that he's far too comfortable splayed out on his uterus couch playing whatever version of xbox he's got in there to be getting all impatient-like about this in utero growing business. But, you have to think of these things, and as soon as I did a vague but insistent sense of anxiety set in that I needed to get organised. Just in case. The husband did venture to suggest that if for some reason Cuinn did come this early, he'd be in hospital for ages so we'd have plenty of time to buy whatever we needed. I've pretty much been hoping ever since that no one will actually notice that the husband's gone missing and that there's a rather large patch of freshly turned earth in our back yard ...
I was very good - I made a list instead of just going shopping, and over about 2 weeks I thought about it, took things off it, put things on, changed quantities, stewed on why I wanted what I wanted and whether it was a valid reason (why did I 'need' 2 plastic bottles instead of glass ones, when plastic ones are 3 times the price? Maybe I did, maybe I didn't, though I did get them anyway on the basis that I'm perfectly happy with glass at home, but plastic for going in the baby bag, or to the park, or anywhere else it could be annihilated where it's not easy to clean up, seemed sensible) blah blah etc etc, and eventually managed to shave quite a bit off the end bill. I still have no idea whether I should have gone with onesies or separates, but I opted for half and half on the basis that whichever works out to be best, I can make do for a couple of months and then just run with my preference for the next size up (crap I forgot to get singlets for under separates).
I'm pretty sure that we have everything we'll need. I don't feel any anxiety that we don't anyway, even if we do end up finding out in due course that we have nothing we'll actually need and everything we'll probably never lay a hand on.
We also made sure that we had the carseat ready to go in the car by making sure that the anchor bolt was fitted, and that we had everything we needed eg. the belt extension we didn't have, but we found we needed when the car belt proved too short. And there there was the oh-bollocks-the-carseat-has-every-safety-feature-under-the-sun-but-doesn't-fit-in-the-backseat-of-the-car-rear-facing-reclined-for-a-newborn moment, and we found it necessary to add a baby capsule to the list. Argh. On which note, I'll say a very loud bless Pal Katherine for coming to the rescue on that front. I'm assuming it'll work like a charm - Jazz seemed to think it was all good anyway.
In a moment of uttery nesty-madness, I even cleaned out the wardrobe in his room and made sure it only had kiddly supplies stacked in it. Of course, that does sound a bit more impressive than it really is - although his wardrobe is nice and organised, I highly recommend not even thinking about opening the wardrobe door in the end spare room. I'm still not sure the best way to go about getting into that to clean it out when the mood strikes, assuming that it may do at some stage. Either that, or at some point, a guest is going to want to use it. I might wait a few weeks and then send the unsuspecting husband down there to retrieve something for me and let everything fall out of the wardrobe all over him. That really does seem like the best plan.
So muchos organisyos has been taking place over the last few weeks. That, and 'enjoying it while it lasts' has been the order of the day as far as sleep, relaxation and spending time together just spending time together, musing over whether the kid will be a ginger, and cursing the little demon when he goes to ground for a few days and refuses to move even so much as a muscle to let us know that he's perfectly happy and just having an extended snooze thanks.
Oooooh! There has been vege gardeny goodness though, which I'll tell you about and provide photos of. In the meantime, those of you who know me well can amuse yourselves having hysterics at the thought of me trying to do anything that involves plants, let alone edible ones (the husband won't even let me water the house plants because as soon as they see me they die), but I can assure you that so far all is well, because there aren't actually any plants involved yet. But, for now, I'm going to have a sleep.
Zzzzzzz...
(Also - just a wee end note ... if any of this doesn't make sense, I wouldn't hassle yourself complaining about it because I don't really care. Such is the joy of pregnancy-induced serenity from my perspective. Tra la la)
Monday 27 October 2008
There's a post in here somewhere ...
A girl knows that when even her dad complains that the blog posting has become a bit non-existent, that she really should try and jump start a few brain cells enough to give some form of update.
Unfortunately, I can't find the jumper-leads just at the minute, so I'll give you an updated kiddly-house pic instead to tide you over.
28 weeks.
Unfortunately, I can't find the jumper-leads just at the minute, so I'll give you an updated kiddly-house pic instead to tide you over.
28 weeks.
Monday 20 October 2008
'twas a day for awesome conversations
Courier delivering who knows what to the office (I probably should have checked in case it was a little bit vital I guess), looks at my stomach and said "You look about the same size as my sister!"
Me, completely at a loss as to the appropriate and/or expected response to this "Oh. Yeah?"
Courier, nodding enthusiastically, apparently pleased with himself though I have no idea why "Yep"
Me, still at a loss but building up to asking how long his sister has to go because really, what the hell else am I going to say? "Ohhh...?"
Courier "Yeah. Do you have about three weeks to go?"
Me "Uhhh. No. About three months."
Courier, eyes wide, making sure that the door was where he left it, and there were no sharp objects in my immediate reach, looks back at the stomach and can't help himself "Geeeez!!!"
And then runs (yes, runs) out of the office.
Me, completely at a loss as to the appropriate and/or expected response to this "Oh. Yeah?"
Courier, nodding enthusiastically, apparently pleased with himself though I have no idea why "Yep"
Me, still at a loss but building up to asking how long his sister has to go because really, what the hell else am I going to say? "Ohhh...?"
Courier "Yeah. Do you have about three weeks to go?"
Me "Uhhh. No. About three months."
Courier, eyes wide, making sure that the door was where he left it, and there were no sharp objects in my immediate reach, looks back at the stomach and can't help himself "Geeeez!!!"
And then runs (yes, runs) out of the office.
So, siblings DO have their uses
My youngest rang yesterday to wish me and Al a happy wedding anniversary.
Bless him, he was a day out, which is extremely fortunate for me because said wedding anniversary is today and I'd forgotten entirely.
I'd intended to wake up this morning with the significant-date detail firmly etched in my memory so that I could remind the husband what a clever thing he did all those years ago, and I was close. I managed to recall the significant-date detail at approximately 8.30am on my way to work in the midst of what was close enough to a diabetic coma after a polycose test at Diagnostic (vile, vile thing. I really don't see how giving you a horrendous amount of glucose or whatever is a good way to see if you have diabetes. Poor Cuinn has been in hybernation all. day. And frankly, I don't blame him. I felt like complete shite too), and quickly telephoned the husband before my memory went funky again.
Me "Happy anniversary!"
The husband "Oh! Yeah! 8 Years!!"
Me "Uh. No. It's just feels like 8 years. It's 7."
Him "Oh. Really?"
We're all about the romantic and heart-warming in our house.
Still, it's better than last year - last wedding anniversary I lost the diamond out of my engagement ring.
Bless him, he was a day out, which is extremely fortunate for me because said wedding anniversary is today and I'd forgotten entirely.
I'd intended to wake up this morning with the significant-date detail firmly etched in my memory so that I could remind the husband what a clever thing he did all those years ago, and I was close. I managed to recall the significant-date detail at approximately 8.30am on my way to work in the midst of what was close enough to a diabetic coma after a polycose test at Diagnostic (vile, vile thing. I really don't see how giving you a horrendous amount of glucose or whatever is a good way to see if you have diabetes. Poor Cuinn has been in hybernation all. day. And frankly, I don't blame him. I felt like complete shite too), and quickly telephoned the husband before my memory went funky again.
Me "Happy anniversary!"
The husband "Oh! Yeah! 8 Years!!"
Me "Uh. No. It's just feels like 8 years. It's 7."
Him "Oh. Really?"
We're all about the romantic and heart-warming in our house.
Still, it's better than last year - last wedding anniversary I lost the diamond out of my engagement ring.
Friday 17 October 2008
For my parents
and other associated family members who'll get it. Al and I saw this on TV the other night, and I actually had to go to the loo because I laughed so hard there was a question of whether I may, all jokes aside, actually pee myself.
Remind you of anyone ...?
Remind you of anyone ...?
Thursday 16 October 2008
The good life
Puppies at the park, doing what puppies do.
The half-way stop since I can only waddle so far involved a cup of tea and scones. I'll leave you to imagine how interesting it was a) lowering myself onto the actual ground and then b) getting back on my feet again. Nevermind the little bank we clambered down to have our picnic.
Hehe. The moment Jack realised he just walked past scones. Bless him, he came back and shook muddy pond water off in my tea. Puppies are great.
Wednesday 15 October 2008
Oh, yes I do. I really, really do.
Firstly, it's best not to ask what I was googling when I found this.
BUT, I swear by all that is good in the world, I gotsta get me some of this stuff!
Pee & Poo
BUT, I swear by all that is good in the world, I gotsta get me some of this stuff!
Pee & Poo
Tuesday 14 October 2008
Friday 10 October 2008
Has anyone else noticed the time?
Last week, I breathed a sigh of relief. Even when Cuinn stuck in there and started growing, and then kept sticking and kept growing, I kept holding my breath waiting for that 24 week mark where he'd have a fighting chance at life if he was born. It is a worst-case scenario and then some, sure, but ... well ... who'd have thought we'd be here? We didn't. Not really. So that everything keeps on trucking from day to day, accordingly to plan, not hiccups, no worries, really is a bit staggering. We're not exactly waiting for the bang, but we're suspicious that there hasn't been one. Then again, I suppose we did do some hard yards at the start. Little demon.
We're celebrating milestones from our little man every week now. He's getting stronger every day and it's really, really cool. His kicks are getting harder and harder and I can almost make out the difference between his hands and feet by the force that goes into either punching or kicking me. I can also often feel him building up to something too - there'll be a sensation like something is moving and then usually some form of abuse of my insides. I can feel him easily from the outside, as can Al, and if you're quick, you can see him too - my stomach will suddenly pulse out. The other day he stuck his foot out which was incredible. I figured it was a foot anyway. Something stuck out. A hard lump was poking out, and I went with a foot based on the length and width of it, and the force he must have been pushing with to stick it out there. That, and when I pushed back on it, the little demon booted me with the other one. Nice and hard. Bless.
Al can hear him moving which I'm a bit jealous of, although I suppose I do get the rest of it, all day ... and it was extremely funny to see the look on his face when Cuinn gave him a solid kick in the ear. Apparently he likes his privacy.
I'm still sulking about the antenatal classes though, which start in a month. In fact, they start around the time I need to come up with a birth plan for my obstetrician, which is a whole other post entirely. So far my 'plan' consists of avoiding the topic entirely because I'm pretty sure that my other plan of just waking up one morning to find Cuinn tucked up in his hammock, blissfully asleep, is just a wee tad unlikely.
Unbelievably though, when it comes down to breathing sighs of relief about babies having a chance if they're born, antenatal classes and birth plans, that means that the time has come to do a bit of a kiddly-stuff stocktake and make sure I have what I need for him should it all happen. Because it does sometimes. And sooner or later (preferably later. Not too late, but later is good), it definitely will. So I'm working through a list of what various stores say I desperately need as a bare minimum, and by cutting the 'necessary' amounts of various clothing items etc in half, forgetting about most of the hardware (do we really need a baby bath when we have a perfectly good sink? and a nightlight? Seriously? He definitely needs seven pairs of shoes though...), and being just a wee bit honest about the difference between wants (since he's not likely to have teeth for quite some time, I can probably flag the rimu teething rattle. I guess. If I have to) and actual needs (Uhhhmmmm .... pants and nappies) from a budgeting perspective, we seem to be getting somewhere. ''Somewhere' being a wee bit closer to a mortgagee sale, but, you know, that's still somewhere.
I can definitely report though - even now, it's still very surreal.
We're celebrating milestones from our little man every week now. He's getting stronger every day and it's really, really cool. His kicks are getting harder and harder and I can almost make out the difference between his hands and feet by the force that goes into either punching or kicking me. I can also often feel him building up to something too - there'll be a sensation like something is moving and then usually some form of abuse of my insides. I can feel him easily from the outside, as can Al, and if you're quick, you can see him too - my stomach will suddenly pulse out. The other day he stuck his foot out which was incredible. I figured it was a foot anyway. Something stuck out. A hard lump was poking out, and I went with a foot based on the length and width of it, and the force he must have been pushing with to stick it out there. That, and when I pushed back on it, the little demon booted me with the other one. Nice and hard. Bless.
Al can hear him moving which I'm a bit jealous of, although I suppose I do get the rest of it, all day ... and it was extremely funny to see the look on his face when Cuinn gave him a solid kick in the ear. Apparently he likes his privacy.
I'm still sulking about the antenatal classes though, which start in a month. In fact, they start around the time I need to come up with a birth plan for my obstetrician, which is a whole other post entirely. So far my 'plan' consists of avoiding the topic entirely because I'm pretty sure that my other plan of just waking up one morning to find Cuinn tucked up in his hammock, blissfully asleep, is just a wee tad unlikely.
Unbelievably though, when it comes down to breathing sighs of relief about babies having a chance if they're born, antenatal classes and birth plans, that means that the time has come to do a bit of a kiddly-stuff stocktake and make sure I have what I need for him should it all happen. Because it does sometimes. And sooner or later (preferably later. Not too late, but later is good), it definitely will. So I'm working through a list of what various stores say I desperately need as a bare minimum, and by cutting the 'necessary' amounts of various clothing items etc in half, forgetting about most of the hardware (do we really need a baby bath when we have a perfectly good sink? and a nightlight? Seriously? He definitely needs seven pairs of shoes though...), and being just a wee bit honest about the difference between wants (since he's not likely to have teeth for quite some time, I can probably flag the rimu teething rattle. I guess. If I have to) and actual needs (Uhhhmmmm .... pants and nappies) from a budgeting perspective, we seem to be getting somewhere. ''Somewhere' being a wee bit closer to a mortgagee sale, but, you know, that's still somewhere.
I can definitely report though - even now, it's still very surreal.
Thursday 9 October 2008
Tuesday 7 October 2008
Honey, I'm home!
I'm pretty sure I am the worst holiday photo taker ever in the history of the world.
I got 17 snaps of this street sign, and none of the lolly shop for a start. I do love cardigans though.
The husband feeding ... I have no idea what at the deer park. It's either a goat, a thar or a yak. Probably a goat. It looks like a goat. But, the point is that there's one less hungry animal in the world.
A llama. Possibly.
The view from our hotel room. I think. If not, the view from our hotel room was pretty much the same. There was definitely a lake and mountains.
The inside of The Cow. The Cow do the best pizza ever in the history of the world (bolognese sauce and cheese. Mmmmm. Had I been slightly more onto it, I would've taken a photo of the pizza instead of the bar.)
So, yeah ... I have no idea what happened to all the other photos I thought I was taking ...
I got 17 snaps of this street sign, and none of the lolly shop for a start. I do love cardigans though.
The husband feeding ... I have no idea what at the deer park. It's either a goat, a thar or a yak. Probably a goat. It looks like a goat. But, the point is that there's one less hungry animal in the world.
A llama. Possibly.The view from our hotel room. I think. If not, the view from our hotel room was pretty much the same. There was definitely a lake and mountains.
The inside of The Cow. The Cow do the best pizza ever in the history of the world (bolognese sauce and cheese. Mmmmm. Had I been slightly more onto it, I would've taken a photo of the pizza instead of the bar.)
The cheesy sign I made the husband stick his head through. What I should have taken a photo of as well was the gap that he had to limbo under to get behind the sign which is lodged between two buildings. The sign is made for kids, so it's about a foot and a half off the ground. VERY funny watching the husband get under there. Obviously, he was extremely cheerful about it.
THE best pie shop this side of anywhere. And the back of Stu. You can't tell, but he was running (OK, maybe he wasn't, but I'm pretty sure he wanted to).
The pie menu. They also do an excellent custard square and a wicked caramel meringue square. I've heard.
Me feeding a piggy (back at the deer park. I figure that the photos are so random, the posting can be too).
Photos from the Chinese (gold-mining??) village thing in Arrowtown.
The husband, Sarah, Stu and Vaughan in and around a hut built into the side of a cliff. Exceptionally cool apparently, but it was up a hill. Enough said.
Me, with what looks like a serious case of muffin-top. It's a kiddly. I swear. And some pies. Not all of them though, in case you're wondering.
See? It can't be all the pies - Stu and Sarah had some which means I didn't have them all.
So, yeah ... I have no idea what happened to all the other photos I thought I was taking ...
Wednesday 1 October 2008
Simonne is
... loving Facebook.
... going on holiday. Tomorrow. To Queenstown. Where it's SNOWING!
... excited about the snow. I've never been in snow before. Do you think there's any chance it'll be warm snow though?
... obviously packing warm clothes (just in case it's not warm snow), some of which were emergency-purchased. I am having a summer baby, why would I have woolly clothes that fit over the kiddly-house? All my warm layers come to about a third of the way down my stomach, therefore not being much of a layer at all. Thank heavens for stores that haven't got around to removing winter stock from the racks, and sale prices which mean they didn't cost much. I got a jersey and a warm skirt. Now to try and get through 4 days without getting them dirty ... What's the bet I dump pizza down myself the first night I'm there?
... going straight from the airport at Queenstown to the Remarkable Sweet Shop to buy hokey pokey fudge. Or possibly cookies and cream fudge. I'm not sure. I'll decide while I'm buying toffee and gums and chews and coconut rolls and ... *blissful sigh*
... likely to kill someone if the airport is closed because of the snow.
... going to have a hell of a job cleaning the black boot polish off her hands. And arms. And face. Cleaning boots is messy when you're me.
... just realising that there's a snowball's chance I'll get to Queenstown without using the plane loo. I hate using plane loos.
... looking forward to going to bed very soon. I'm sleep deprived. Although I don't know why I'm whinging about it ...it's not like things are going to improve any in the coming months. On the bright side, I was awake when Cuinn got the hiccups at 3am this morning. Baby hiccups are hilarious!
...absolutely STOKED that I found a Stokke chair for Cuinn on Trademe for $180.00, and that it turned out to be in pretty new condition when the husband picked it up. I'm even more stoked that the lady who sold it to us also gave us the baby kit (for no extra cost!) which converts the chair into a high chair. The chair and set would have cost $460.00 retail. Yay! The husband will be less than stoked when he finds out that while we are up one high chair, he is very much down his drinking fund for Queenstown.
... done for now!
... going on holiday. Tomorrow. To Queenstown. Where it's SNOWING!
... excited about the snow. I've never been in snow before. Do you think there's any chance it'll be warm snow though?
... obviously packing warm clothes (just in case it's not warm snow), some of which were emergency-purchased. I am having a summer baby, why would I have woolly clothes that fit over the kiddly-house? All my warm layers come to about a third of the way down my stomach, therefore not being much of a layer at all. Thank heavens for stores that haven't got around to removing winter stock from the racks, and sale prices which mean they didn't cost much. I got a jersey and a warm skirt. Now to try and get through 4 days without getting them dirty ... What's the bet I dump pizza down myself the first night I'm there?
... going straight from the airport at Queenstown to the Remarkable Sweet Shop to buy hokey pokey fudge. Or possibly cookies and cream fudge. I'm not sure. I'll decide while I'm buying toffee and gums and chews and coconut rolls and ... *blissful sigh*
... likely to kill someone if the airport is closed because of the snow.
... going to have a hell of a job cleaning the black boot polish off her hands. And arms. And face. Cleaning boots is messy when you're me.
... just realising that there's a snowball's chance I'll get to Queenstown without using the plane loo. I hate using plane loos.
... looking forward to going to bed very soon. I'm sleep deprived. Although I don't know why I'm whinging about it ...it's not like things are going to improve any in the coming months. On the bright side, I was awake when Cuinn got the hiccups at 3am this morning. Baby hiccups are hilarious!
...absolutely STOKED that I found a Stokke chair for Cuinn on Trademe for $180.00, and that it turned out to be in pretty new condition when the husband picked it up. I'm even more stoked that the lady who sold it to us also gave us the baby kit (for no extra cost!) which converts the chair into a high chair. The chair and set would have cost $460.00 retail. Yay! The husband will be less than stoked when he finds out that while we are up one high chair, he is very much down his drinking fund for Queenstown.
... done for now!
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