Today I pee'd on a stick

Yesterday I pee'd on a stick.

I thought I should sleep on it.

Today I went to a different pharmacy and I bought another little stick and I pee'd on that too.

Then I did nothing for a long while.

Then I went to yet a different pharmacy and bought yet another stick, which also got pee'd on.

They all agreed.

I am pregnant . . . .

. . . . . Again

I dont know why I am surprised? About 1 - 2 months ago, we decided to throw away the protection and try make number two. So why the shock? Why the 3 different pregnancy tests? Why do I keep double checking them every time I go to the toilet? It's not as though they are suddenly going to change and go "HA HA, tricked you!"

I guess it is because I expected it to take at least 3 - 4 months to make a goal, you know? I tried to think about having two and my brain just seemed to suddenly stop working and go snowy, like the tv at 4am in the morning. I will have to attempt that another day, when I have regained full use of my brain.

But now if I thought my reaction was one of shock, Xavi's was even 'better'! I went out and bought a tiny little grey baby body and a book of baby names. I called him into the room and gave him those little items along with a pregnancy test. He looked at these items, then looked at me confusion plastered all over his face. He asked me what they were for, to which I replied that I was pregnant. He paused, looked down and then up again and asked "Are you sure?". 

Hmmmmm, well the 3 sticks that I have pee'd on all seem to be sure. 

Then the really good question, "But how?"

Well now that would explain how we got into this little situation in the first place . . . . .

I gently tried to explain that this is generally the result when two people have unprotected sex. Followed by "well what did you think would happen my love?"

Although given the fact that days later and I would still be checking all 3 sticks to see if they had changed their minds, means that I am no better!!

The start of school

Emmeline has now officially started baby school! In Spain it is called guarderia, I don't know what the exact translation is, but I imagine it is something like creche or pre school. Whatever, it is the school that little one year olds can go to!

So today was her first day and therefore it was also my first day. I had totally mixed emotions about this. You see, for the whole short 13 months of little Emmeline's life, I have been with her every day pretty much all day. Xavi's parents live down the coast, so she is not with them very often, and my parents are not here that  all the time so she has not been with them very often either. Xavi works and I don't and so I am with her all day long. I was worried about leaving her with strangers without her mommy or her daddy as she is mostly only with us and not with other people. I have seen her reaction when I have left her with people she didn't feel comfortable with, and it broke my heart. I really hated the thought of her being in any kind of distress whatsoever! I didn't want to be away from her, I didn't want to miss out on time with her, I didn't want to not be there whenever she needed me. The thought of other people, strangers, being with her all morning and sharing things with her killed me. The thought of these other people sharing things with her for the first time or her doing some of those 'firsts' with them and not me . . . I didn't like it! 

But then there was the other side of it as well, the 'selfish' side. Really it is not selfish at all, but as a mother I am now realising that guilt is one of those emotions that we feel on a daily basis about all sorts of things that are relevant and mostly not relevant. I thought about the luxury of having a whole 3.5hrs to myself! All to myself! Well, until I find a job anyway!! 3.5 hrs doesn't sound like much now does it? What could you do in that time? How could you even call it a luxury? Well if you are a mother to a small child then you will know that an entire 3.5 hrs without a little one doing one or all of the following is an absolute luxury:

Either whinging or crying for no apparent reason other than they like the sound they can make

Trying to climb up your leg like you are some kind of a tree whilst you are washing the dishes

Screaming at you when, god forbid, you should close the bathroom door to have a wee

Throwing books at you to say "read mother, read" 

"Helping" you to unpack all the dish clothes or the pile of laundry that you have just folded

Slowly bringing you every single toy they own to show you

Or simply your own guilt when you haven't played with them as long as they want!!!!

3.5 Hours without this chaos seemed like a dream. I needed the break, I needed some time for me, I needed to be able to do my things without a million interruptions! Did I feel guilty about this? Hell yes!!

So along came day one. Knots in my stomach but trying to not let Emmeline feel this. The morning didn't go well, I was tired and therefore equipped with less patience then normal and she was being difficult. Not the best combination. So off we went to school. We got there are there were all the parents with their little ones, some coming to school for the first time, and some returning after the holidays. Noe of them looked too pleased. Emmeline looked somewhat overwhelmed by what was going on. Poor thing had no idea what I was about to do! I went over to where some nursery assistants were with some other little ones. One of them suggested I put Emmeline down with the other kids to see how she was. I put her down and she showed a slight interest in this other baby and I decided to choose this moment to leave. In hindsight I think it would have been better to actually say goodbye to her and let her see me go because as I got downstairs I had this horrible image in my head of Emmeline turning around to find me or come to me and I wasn't there. She wouldnt' be able to see me and she wouldn't know where I had gone. 

I walked away from the nursery and thought 'well ok, I am not crying, Great'. The Xavi phoned me to find out how it went and how I was. Well, out came the little slow running fountain of tears that I had been suppressing. I had to find a little doorway in the street to have a blub whilst I spoke to him! Then I spoke to my mom, explained how it went and blubbed some more! I aimlessly wondered around the supermarket waiting for the time to pass so that I could go and fetch my baby! Now the way that the nursery does it is that they recommend that you leave your baby there for a short amount of time the first day and each day you increase the time so that they can slowly get used to it. I had decided on . . . . half an hour! I know, it may seem a little or it may seem a lot depending on how you are looking at it! I had contemplated leaving her for only 15 minutes, but I knew that was just silliness! 

Finally half an hour passed by and I practically ran back to school to get Emmeline. Now I thought that the parents suffered on the first day, but you should think about the people working at the nursery. All I could hear were various children screaming, crying, howling for mommy and daddy, you name it! These poor girls would have a while day of this! Ouch! 

In I went and there was my little girl sitting on the floor with some other babies. She was not crying, but she also wasn't smiling! she looked confused and overwhelmed as if to say "what the hell is going on here?" Apparently she had cried for about 2 seconds after I left and that was it! So much for missing mommy! Ha ha ha ha!! When the nursery assistant bought Emmeline over my little girl leant over and gave mommy a lovely big hug! 

Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!

Return of the 3am Stress

Oh someone help me please . . . I feel like the walking dead again! Emmeline, who has been sleeping through the night like a real champion has decided to throw me a curve ball regarding her sleep leaving me in a zombie like state and Xavi telling me on a regular basis that I should 'just go and sleep' due to the unpleasant character changes that come with my zombie like state.

I dont know what is happening with my child. She woke up one night screaming blue murder at 4 am, one night at 3am, last night at 1am. In the morning she wakes up like clockwork between 7:10am - 7:20am. I would love extra time in bed, but i have come to grudgingly accept that this is how it is going to be for years . . . .  However now little miss muppet has been waking up around 6:00am - 6:20am.

Did I mention that I am sooooooooo tired?????????

Being woken up suddenly at 4am by a screaming baby stresses me out in a big way, and I think it has aged be by about 10 years! I find it awful! It is wake up suddenly, hear screaming baby, wait thinking she will stop any second now, she doesn't, start to stress about waking up this whole side of the building as her window is open and all the sounds echos in the little interior patio outside her window, haul my dead weight body out of bed and tip toe to her room (although I don't know why, she is still screaming and probably wouldn't hear anything anyway!), get to her door and think "what the feck to do now?"

Do I:
a) sooth her from the doorway with some 'shhh' 'shhh's'?
b) go in and sooth her from next to her crib?
c) go in and pick her up to comfort her?
d) Dont go in at all and leave her to cry it out

I have tried all of them. None have really had much resounding success. If I sooth her from the doorway, she quietens down for a second and then starts up again. If I go in, she gets even more narky the minute I walk out. If I pick her up, she gets even more narky the minute that I put her back down. Leaving her to cry it out normally has the most success although some time she just gets even more worked up and screams so loudly I think that only animals can hear her.

Some nights I have tried it all and ended up sitting outside her room with my hands in my head going "I dont know what to do".

Why is she crying? Well it could be because:
a) She is scared of the dark
b) The nightlight is irritating her
c) She is hot
d) She is cold
e) She is teething
f) She doesn't feel good
g) She doesn't want to be alone
h) Some noise from outside woke her up and she is angry about it
i) All of the above
j) None of the above

Bottom line - I don't know.

Of course she is sleeping now. Oh yes! Morning nap and afternoon nap without fail, sometimes with more screaming at me and sometimes with less, but she always goes down.

So why, for the love of god, is she messing around in the evening again???

I can only hope that it is a phase , or it is in fact the mysterious teeth (she got 2 teeth months ago, and nothing since then. I think her mouth gave up at 2 teeth), and that she goes back to giving mommy some much needed sleep.

A well rested mommy is good for everyone in the house!!

Baby girl turns 1!!

Happy Birthday Emmeline!

1 Year already!

I remember my waters breaking (well, they kind of half broke, but anyway), I remember the pain of contractions passing through me for hours, I remember the sweet relief of the epidural, I remember the strangling motion the nurse made when she told the doctor that I had a prolapsed umbilical cord (cord coming out first and baby therefore possibly stopping the flow of oxygen). I remember being wheeled through hospital half naked with a strange women on top of me with half her arm inside of me to stop Emmeline coming any further down, and I remember the speed at which the many doctors in the surgery worked at getting tubes taken out and put in, and I remember being completely knocked out by medication not knowing the fate of my baby.

I remember waking up, feeling semi zonked due to pain medication and exhaustion and Xavi smiling at me asking if I wanted to meet someone. I remember the nurse bringing Emmeline over and putting her in my arms and positioning her to breastfeed. I was lying down and all I could think was "God, I hope she doesn't suffocate on my boob, she is lying face down". Those few days in hospital were a dream for me. We were in a perfect little bubble.

But the days flew by and they haven't stopped flying since then. I have watched her grown from a tiny little raisin into a destructive little angel! I have seen her going from this little thing that was totally immobile and confined to a life of laying on her back only being able to see 30cm in front of her face to being a mini person taking her first tentative steps and hitting mickey mouse for being in the TV. I have watched her grow and learn how to sit, how to roll, how to crawl and how to walk (almost). I have watched her learn to smile, to grin, to giggle, to laugh and to do funny things to you to make everyone laugh. I have watched her change from being fairly blase about who she was with to showing clear signs of joy when she sees us, to crawl up to us and hug our legs, to hold us and kiss us. I have also seen her throw her bowl on the floor in irritation, wriggle out of our arms in frustration and become far too independent and stubborn insisting on doing things herself!

I have watched the light of my life grow so much in one year and it scares the crap out of me. I seem to have this thing in my head that after one, everything goes by really quickly. I feel panicky sometimes and think it is all going to rush by now, like I am going to miss special moments, that as each year passes, it will be another year of her becoming more independent . . . from me! I know this is stupid and unreasonable, but I cant help it. There are still days when I cant believe that she is ours and that we get to keep her. No one is going to come and get her, she doesn't have to go. She gets to stay with us. I want to enjoy every minute I can with her and there are still many days that when she is in bed for the evening, I miss her.

I never believed anyone when they said the love you feel for your child is unlike any other, and now I know that I could never even try to explain it to someone. She is an angel, a light, a joy, a happpiness. I want to spend every moment I can with her and enjoy all the years that are still to come, waiting with baited breath for all the changes that are also coming, good and bad!

Emmeline, Happy Birthday, mommy loves you very much.
xxxxx

Lost and Found: My Self Confidence

A few months ago i tried on a dress and it looked awful. Whilst standing in the changing room with those special downcast lights purposefully designed to increase the shadows left by the bags under your eyes and accentuate every rise and fall of cellulite that you have slowly but surely accumulated over your life, I looked at my reflection and when "eeeuuuugggghhh". I didn't like what i saw. Then i started to think. I realized that for a lot of my life I have not liked my body. I have spent years criticising my arse, my hips, my thighs, my calves and my poor, poor stomach who get's the brunt end of it all. There was very little I liked and it had been this way for as long as i can remember, at least 15 years.

What a total bloody waste of time!

Years ago I couldn’t walk down to the beach for a swim without wrapping myself in my towel. Then I went traveling and gained my self confidence thanks to meeting some amazingly fantastic women who would be classed as larger/curvier/whatever who were filled with confidence and didn’t appear to care what others thought. I admired them and decided that I would much rather be like that instead if too afraid of someone criticizing my arse!

Then I got pregnant and it all changed. I felt great being pregnant and wasn’t so bothered about the fact that my belly ballooned to gigantic proportions. What I did notice was that any admiring glances once received were no longer received. It appears that a pregnant women is no longer viewed as sexy or attractive! Then I had emmeline and noticed that no one really admires a women carrying a baby or pushing a pram. It is like we have gone from being sexy, attractive women to simply being a mom. I have to say that this is not what we need! We already feel so bad about ourselves and out bodies that we don’t need to be made to feel even more undesireable. Once I had emmeline I found it hard to shift the weight. My appetite had not decreased perhaps because I was breastfeeding, perhaps simply because I am in love with food. I couldn’t do exercise because I was either too exhausted or because I was with her all day – no time for spining! I didn’t like my body, nor my newly acquired mummy tummy. As the months went by, I started to feel worse about my body and less confidence. It started to affect my life more than I liked. The first time I went to the swimming pool with emmeline I was so embarrassed as I only had a bikini and I was worried about my body and what people would think. When I went with some of the other mommies to a swimming pool, I was embarrassed again with my body. I was wearing big baggy clothing and not buying anything sexy as I didn’t feel it. Then while walking with emmeline one day, something in my head went “ping”. 5 Years ago I was bigger than I am today and I was super confident. Why not now? Why did I lose it? Simply because my tummy is even more flabby than before or because I put on a few extra kilos? Rubbish to that! I have every ‘right’ to be just a confident as the skinny minny with the washboard tummy across the road, every ‘right’ to wear skinny jeans and every ‘right’ to wear a fitted vest with confidence and without embarrassment. I found some of my self confidence again!

Now whilst I haven't liked my body since i was a teenager (sometimes more, sometimes less), it has always been constant. And I am not alone in this. Pretty much ALL women are not happy with how they look.

WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? What is wrong with us?

If our partners get a little tummy, we think it is cute, soft and cuddly. If they get one slightly tiny eye wrinkle we wouldn't even notice it. Grey hairs? Sophisticated. If the same things happens to us we are automatically placing ourselves on the lemon juice and cinnamon diet, rushing out to spend a months rent on wrinkle creams that probably wont make that much of a difference, and buying stocks in L'Oreal . . . because we are worth it!

It's Bullshit.

Why are we so hard on ourselves? Perhaps partly because everyone else is! We are surrounded by messages and images about how we should look. I put on the TV and Brooke Shields is telling me how much younger she now looks using product x, Jennifer Lopez is telling me how amazing her hair now looks since she started to use product x, Jessica Alba's face is now flawless due to product x and Scarlett Johannsen smells fantastic due to using product x. I go into a shop to try and buy a pair of knee high boots. Now if your calves (like mine) are not dainty little twigs, you are screwed and the zips don’t go all the way up. So off I go to buy some clothing to perk myself up. I pop into H&M and I am a Medium. On a high I pop over to Mango or Zara and discover that a Large or X Large only just about squeezes over the hills and mountains of my hips and breasts. Defeated I leave. I want to grab a coffee from Starbucks, but feel like i am being a pig if I order a big coffee and milk and not a skinny, decaf, no milk, no sugar, no skim, no fat, no froth, coffee that has no calories and is actually just air. So I grab a magazine to have a quick read on the bus on the way home. Page one tells me all about Jordan's antics (honestly, I don't care, this is no longer news. News would be when Jordan has a marriage that lasts or spends a night in). Page 5 tells me GLEEFULLY how Kate Moss has cellulite. This is aimed to make us mere mortals feel better, more normal and accepted. Page 8 tut tuts that some poor B lister has "let herself go" and is now up to a size 14-16. Page 10 is shocked, worried and concerned at how much weight Misha Barton has lost. Page 11 thinks Misha Barton is fat. Page 15 claims someone has slimed down to a "curvy" size 10. Page 18 tells us Katie Holmes is pregnant because her washboard flat stomach has a pea sized bulge or because she is wearing a floaty shirt. Page 25 mockingly shows us celebrities without makeup and page 28 blows us Katy Perry's zit so that is takes up the whole page. And it has been circled just incase we didn't realize what we were looking at.

We are totally screwed!

Magazines aimed at women are ALL about size and image criticizing us for being too small, criticizing us for being too big, mocking women who have cellulite or criticizing them when they don’t wear make up. Are we all just a big bunch of bitches or is this some kind of conspiracy theory manufactured by the beauty industry to get us to keep spending all out money like a bunch of idiots with all this crap to make ourselves 'look better'.

The truth is that there is no perfect anything or anyone. Pick the person that you think is perfect and ask them if there is anything they don’t like about themselves, and I guarantee you they will have at least one thing they don’t like . . . even if it is just their earlobes! Go down to the beach and take a look around, we come in all shapes and sizes, filled with perfections and imperfections. We will still find and keep friends, we will still find and keep partners, we will still fall in love and have people fall in love with us. But For some bizarre and unexplained reason we appear to be programmed to not be happy with ourselves. If you want to try to make a change to yourself for health reasons then go for it, but please, not because Cosmopolitan say so!!

It’s just NOT worth it. 

Court papers from the other mother

I have a good life, one which I thoroughly enjoy. But it tends to be somewhat of a rollercoaster ride most of the time. Some of this rollercoaster is due to factors that many other people also experience; money problems, selling a house, family highs and lows etc. But I have an added factor that not all people have, a special and unique factor that is a constant thorn in my side. This thorn is also known as the other mother, or the wicked witch. I wonder sometimes how my life would be without her and the many little surprises she throws our way. Normal I imagine!

For example, one Friday afternoon a few weeks ago I was busy getting Emmeline ready to go to the swimming pool when the doorbell went. I looked through the peep hole and seriously considered not opening the door to the rather serious looking gentleman outside, but when he buzzed again I decided that he wasn’t selling life insurance and really did want one of us and so I opened up. 5 minutes later I was closing the door with court papers in my hand for xavi from the other mother! Definitely not life insurance then.

So I tore open the envelope and had a quick read through it, which turned out to be not so quick as it was a legal document in Spanish! But I got the gist of it and boy did it make me laugh and infuriate me at the same time! It made me laugh because the things she claimed just made her sound like such a victim – something she does all the time! But infuriating because these same claims were actually lies about Xavi, blatant, blatant lies!

I immediately got on the phone to Xavi. I told him about the papers but he was all calm about it and told me not to stress and that he would have a look at it when we got home. Ok, not what I needed, I needed to bitch about it in English! So I got on the phone to my mom and had a good old bitch about it!

So what were the court papers all about? Well the other mother has asked for a modification for the shared custody papers. What modification? Well, currently they each have to deposit 200eu into Yaincoa’s account to pay for his school fees, school books, extra medical expenses etc. Well the other mother doesn’t want to pay anything at all now. Nothing. Zero. Nada! She wants Xavi to pay everything. Why? Apparently she doesn’t have enough money. She used to own a company, she doesn’t anymore because it went bust, and when it went bust she was in about 20,000euros or so of debt. So instead of sorting it all out, she didn’t and it is now at the point where the government automatically take out a portion of her salary every month (‘Embargo’ in Spanish). We already have a court order against her for not paying her share of this maintenance for more than two years, and the court ruled that when her current embargo’s are finished, they will start a new embargo for the maintenance money. She now owes around 5000 eu to the account. This embargo could and probably will only occur in several years time. Probably when yaincoa is in high school or starting bloody university!

So anyway, she says she doesn’t have enough to pay her maintenance. Now on paper this may be the case. Salary of 1000eu, rent of 675eu. Where would you find another 200eu for child maintenance and then buy food, clothing, mobile phones etc? Sounds bad huh? Except that we are pretty convinced that she gets cash in hand for some of her hours she works. She drives a car everywhere (petrol costs more than metro), I am sure that she eats at least one meal a day in the restaurant by her work (plus coffees etc), she naturally has brown, curly hair but recently changed it to blonde and straight – how much does that cost in a hairdresser? And she bought Yaincoa a 360eu X Box and possibly the 150eu Kinect for Christmas. She always walks around done up from head to toe in clothing that is certainly not from H&M. Now is it just me or does that not exactly sound like someone who is down and out in the money dumps? And seriously, if you had to pay maintenance for your child but things were slightly tight, would you not pack yourself a sandwich to take to lunch every day to save money? Or get the metro? Or not have a complete hair overhaul that has got to have cost hundreds? Or perhaps find a second job during the weeks that you didn’t have your child?

The other thing that strikes me as bizarre is this. After receiving our original court order for not paying, she started to deposit 90eu a month for her son (as advised by her lawyer). She has done this for 5 months. So, if she had been depositing this money for 5 months, and nothing has changed in her financial situation, why can she suddenly not pay one cent?

Apparently the solution is to try and get the daddy to pay for everything. Until yaincoa was 6, she had full custody, therefore xavi paid her 300eu every month and he obviously had his visitation with Yaincoa. She paid for everything else, how it is when someone has custody. However in the eyes of the other mother she paid everything all by her lonely little self. She doesn’t remember this 300eu that paid for school, she doesn’t remember that it was her choice to have a private doctor for him, she doesn’t remember that when xavi had him every single weekend, he paid for everything necessary during this time with his son. So there is a big part of me that is sure that she is doing this as revenge as so many of her emails from the last 2 years are filled with statements of ‘I paid everything, now you pay everything. You owe me a lot of money’

Our lawyers have gone to her lawyers and offered that she pays 150eu and Xavi pays 200eu. She said no.

Our lawyers then went to her lawyers and offered that she pays 100eu and Xavi pays 250eu. She said no.

Our lawyers then went to her lawyers and offered that she pays 70eu and xavi pays 250eu. Looks like she has said no.

Why have we made so many offers? Because on paper the personal tax paper they have order that xavi shows to show his earnings for 2009 (2010 hasn’t been done yet) show that he has earned quite a lot. It was a good year yes, every other year shows half or one third of that amount. And he has about 3 times the outgoings as she does.

So what will we do now? We will go to court and we will fight. We will show everything we can to show that we are not in the best position and whilst we have no problem accepting that we pay more, we will fight so that she has to pay something, anything for her own child! What are our chances? Well it probably depends on what kind of judge we get! Worst case scenario is that we have to pay all school costs, medical costs and court costs. Best case is that she has to pay something!! Even though we may lose, we want to fight, we want to give it everything we can and we don’t just want to lie down and accept what she says simply because she is a bitter cow. I am slightly optimistic, but not hugely as the law is still so unfair to fathers. Just the other day a man got denied shared custody of his child because he lost his job. And yet here we have a mother who does nothing for her child and is claiming that she cannot pay for him however there is no danger of her losing her shared custody.

I don’t know, but I am hoping for the best.

Let the crawling commence

Emmeline got big!

It feels like it was only a few weeks ago that my waters broke and I was being wheeled in for an emergency caesarean for a prolapsed umbilical cord amongst the real danger that Emmeline could suffocate herself.

It feels like only a few weeks ago that her little umbilical cord fell off whilst I was changing her, only a few weeks ago that she smiled, only a few weeks ago that she would curl up on my chest and sleep like an angel, only a few weeks ago she held herself up for a few seconds whilst on her tummy.

It feels like only a few days ago that she laughed, a few days ago that she rolled over, a few days ago that she tried solids for the first time, a few days ago that she started saying mama and papa.

Then a few weeks ago whilst she was playing in her little crib next to my desk in the office, she pulled herself up to a standing position all by herself. She was getting too curious to know what was going on outside the boundaries of those 4 cotton candy walls! Not long after that, she finally worked out the crawl position! She managed to get her bum up and her legs under her, hands poised and ready to go. And off she went . . . backwards! But at least there was movement, that was enough for us. But apparently it was not enough for Emmeline because 4 or 5 days after going backwards she took her first wobbly movements forwards whilst in the park! Part of me thought it was a fluke, but when I got home and put her on the bed, off she went wobbling her way forwards!

My little tiny newborn baby that I cradled in my arms for the first time in what felt like only a few moments before was crawling all by herself. She was no longer a tiny newborn baby, she no longer wants to be cradled in my arms, she no longer wants to fall asleep on my chest and she is now becoming more and more independent using me simply as a human mountain to try and climb over!

Where did the time go?

She is only 8.5 months old.

She is already 8.5 months old.

I have accepted my fate and I bought corner protectors, plug protectors and various other protectors to stop the little crawler we now have in the house from doing more harm to herself than the many bumps on the head she is going to encounter along the way to stability! Today alone bought us three naughty little bumps, but as much as I tell her that this is a consequence of holding onto things with just one hand, she refuses to take me seriously! Hopefully she will learn that lesson soon enough. I also hope that she learns that she will continue to get more naughty little bumps when she rolls off the nice soft cushion I have placed on the floor onto the hard tiled floors. Stop at the edge of the cushion child!

Bump, ouch, waaaaah!

A common sound in my house now.

I know that walking is just around the corner, and I am happy with her development and her new found independence. I don’t mind about all my magazines being pulled off the shelf and ripped apart. I will clean up the strewn books on the floor that she herself has strewn there for the umpteenth time; I will put the blank DVD’s back in their cases every time she pulls them out one by one by one. I will do all of this and more if she will repay me by falling asleep on my chest every now and then and being my little girl who needs her mommy

please . . . .

Wasted trip to the Zoo

I think that whilst I was pregnant and my body was making little Emmeline, something went wrong somewhere between week 18 and week 38. I appear to have not manufactured whatever gene is necessary for my child to show any interest whatsoever in animals at the zoo!!! She totally lacks the animal interest gene much to my dismay!

It all began in the morning. I was at a loss as to what to do and then like a lightning bolt out of the blue, it hit me – let’s go to the zoo. I thought that it was a fantastic idea! I imagined little noodles face lighting up when she saw the giraffes, squealing with little baby delight at the monkeys and awestruck by the bears. I have way too much imagination and I do believe that what I was actually imagining was some piece of crap Disney movie, because these kinds of reactions from an 8 month old baby could only happen in the land of Walt!

The day started as it meant to continue, not remarkably well! Xavi and Yaincoa had things to do, so I got us ready and decided to walk down to the zoo so that Emmeline could doze off whilst we were walking and then wake up and refreshed for when we got there! Off we trundled. . .  

A quarter of the way there and Emmeline had eyes like saucers. Still awake.

Half way there and she was screaming her lungs out at me due to tiredness (everyone was looking at me like I was an evil mommy who had abandoned her baby). Still awake.

Three quarters of the way there she had given up crying and was now just listlessly staring at the walls of her pram. Still awake

When we got there (or more so, to the park at the entrance of the zoo), she started to wail at me again. Still awake.

I was screwed. I knew that if we went into the gym she would fall straight asleep – Murphy’s Law.

So I decided to walk around the park and in a last ditch effort I whipped out the emergency dummy and plonked it into her mouth. She decided to really push me by then playing with the stupid dummy and putting it in her mouth, chewing it, taking it out and waving it about as if she was about to throw it away! Silly cow!

I gave up and eventually just decided to go into the zoo and see what happened. 17eu later and we were in. I had put Emmeline into the baby sling so that she could see all the animals better, I had my camera out ready to start recording one of life’s beautiful moments, and I had a really dumb grin of a new parent on my face.

First up, an ostrich! It was right in front of us, it is from my home country of South Africa and it was huge. I pointed it out to Emmeline, used an appropriate sing song voice, went ‘ooh’, ‘aah’ and ‘wow’. Emmeline looked more amused at me than the big bird! So I shut up and just pointed. Nope, still grinning at me like an idiot! Took out the camera to at least get a picture of the stupid bird I had seen a thousand times and my dud daughter launched at the camera finding it much more amusing than the bird. I told myself that perhaps in her little baby eyes, the ostrich was camouflaged?

I was determined and so off we went. Next up: flamingos. Bright, big flamingos right in front of us, playing in the water! LOTS OF BIG BRIGHT BIRDS! Nothing! Once again, my dud of a baby was more interested in me and the camera than the wildlife that surrounded us.

Hmmmmmmm, starting to get an uncomfortable feeling . . .

I heard the monkeys and headed in that direction thinking they would definitely get some kind of reaction from my daughter. By the time I got there, Emmeline was snoring away on my chest! Silly cow.

So there I was, a lone adult (absolutely parched, with no water and no money and convinced I couldn’t pay for anything by card) pushing around an empty pram with her (increasingly heavy) daughter strapped to her chest fast asleep and snoring. Uncomfortable and thirsty!

Had I not have seen many animals before it could have been alright, but I spent 2 months touring AFRICA! I have seen the big 5! I have touched a cheetah; I have been 1 meter away from wild silverback gorillas, wild elephants and wild giraffe! I watched a hyena chase down a baby gazelle, I have seen whales swimming just off the shore in front of me and I have swam with dolphins! I have seen all of this in the wild, in their natural environments! And so for me, not only does the zoo not compare, it is also just a little but sad!

But there I was bidding my time until sleeping beauty woke up! Coincidentally, the lions were also sleeping, the panther was sleeping, the jaguar was sleeping, the tiger was sleeping, the hippopotamus was sleeping, the wolves were sleeping . . . . In fact it would seem that the only moron who was not asleep was ME!

Eventually Emmeline woke up, and I was buoyed on by new optimism! We quickly did lunch and then went over to the chimpanzees. There was only one and it was kind of far away, so when she did not pay much interest I thought it must be camouflaged again. How much can 8 month olds really see?

Then along came a lady throwing bread at the monkeys – something I am pretty sure you are not allowed to do but something that no-one cared about because with the bread thrower came 5 chimpanzees!!! And every time she hurfed bread at them, they performed tricks! TRICKS! Their arms would move and they would strike poses; they would clap their hands and move about – actual performing chimpanzee’s right in front of us! I had to elbow a few dodgy looking gypsies out the way so that Emmeline could see, and you know what my little angel did?? She launched herself at the camera every opportunity she got and when she couldn’t do that, she kept trying to grab some mans leather jacket!! She didn’t give a stuff about the performing chimpanzees, oh no, a leather jacket was way more interesting.

Everyone, please meet my dud of a daughter Emmeline.

Somewhere, someone is laughing their arse off at my expense.

The final straw came when she paid no interest to the giant elephant standing in front of us! I gave up, I put her back in her pram and I gave her the lid of her bottle to keep her entertained!

I eventually checked if I could buy something and pay by card and yes, I could. I bought water, coke, and chips and replenished myself! Managed at least to get a photo of Emmeline with some giraffe in the background to remember her first zoo trip! Although I think the picture of her trying to grab the camera out of my hand is a much more accurate picture!!!

What made the whole day worse? Whilst walking home, Emmeline spotted a pigeon. An average, every day, common street pigeon. What did she do?

Shrieked with delight . . .

p.s. update: at least we didn’t go 2 weeks later – mommy wolf escaped with her babies in tow and had several areas of Barcelona on alert whilst they rounded her and her little ones up to go back to the zoo!

Flying with a baby

The last time I flew I was 5 months pregnant. All I had to think of back then was being careful of my bump and looking after myself. The time before that was with Xavi on a little trip to UK to go and get the restof my stuff to bring to Barcelona. All I had to think about that time was organising my crap as quick as possible so that we would have time free to do some sightseeing, have a few drinks, dinners out and have fun.

This time I flew with my little 8 month baby girl. There was a whole lot more to think of and very little of it was about me! It was all about her. Packing was an arse ache but I did it! Getting to the airport was made super easy as my dad gave us a lift there. I would really prefer to not think of how difficult the journey on the trains to the airport would have been with a baby in a sling, a backpack, shoulder bag and wheelie giant suitcase all alone!

Anyway, so my dad took us there, and helped me in with my bags. He took care of Emmeline while I got us checked in and then we stopped for a coffee where once again he took care of Emmeline while I went to the toilet etc. So far everything was going swimmingly! We then found ourselves at security. I had a backpack filled with liquids, all Emmeline’s! 1 bottle of her water (125ml), 1 bottle of milk (125ml), another bottle of milk (240ml), her Apiritol (baby paracetamol) and then my lip cream. Ordinarily all this should be in a clear plastic bag, divided into 100ml bottles blah blah blah blah! I didn’t bother doing any of this because I knew that Barcelona was a lot more relaxed, realistic and practical than other places. And as I thought, when the security man sitting at his little x-ray table saw my bag go through, he raised his head lazily and looked over. I pointed to Emmeline and raised my eyebrows as if to ask if it was a problem? He shook his head and motioned all in one go that it wasn’t a problem and that I could go through! Fantastic! What was not so fantastic is that even with a baby strapped to my chest, they still made me pull off my boots so they could check them. I gave them an incredulous look of ‘really? Seriously? Baby strapped to my chest so this is kind of awkward!’ My look had no effect whatsoever and so I dutifully removed my shoes. The problem was that on the other side my slip on shoes that slid on so easily at home seemed to get stuck! So there I was in front of a row of 5 bemused looking security guards bending over trying to put my shoes on with Emmeline looking like she was going to slip out of the sling at any minute! I hid my embarrassment by looking down and starting a deep conversation with Emmeline whilst doing what I should have done in the first place – walk over to the chair and sit down to put on my shoes!

Once I had successfully put my shoes back on, we had to walk a million miles to get to the check in gate. There was a queue already! Poo! I flashed my baby at the Ryan smelly bum Air check in ladies hoping that one of them would say ‘ooh, I see you are travelling alone with a small baby strapped to your chest! Would you like to board before the rest of the people in order to get yourself and your baby organised without being in anyone else’s way’. They didn’t! They simply took my ticket and moved on. Crap, I was at the end of the queue. Poo! Thankfully the flight was not totally full and we managed to get a seat towards the back and by the window. The air steward gave me the baby seat belt as we got into the plane and told me to ask if I need help. Help? How hard could it be? It was for me! But thankfully I had a helpful lady sitting in the same row as me who helped me to put on this little contraption around Emmeline! She very nicely left the middle seat empty allowing me to use that seat to leave Emmeline’s many things on it. She spoke to me for a few minutes whilst we were waiting to take off, she slept the whole journey, and then she stayed with me until almost everyone had gotten off the plane to see if I needed help with my bags! The perfect person to have next to you! I declined her offer of help and loaded myself up with bags and baby and was the last person off the plane! Although being the last person off the plane and into the bus somehow meant that I was the first one off at the other side and one of the first ones to get through the doors of arrivals!

Then came the return journey. Security at Edinburgh was quite different to security at Barcelona. At both airports I had 3 bottles for Emmeline in my bag - 2 with milk and 1 with water. I also had her medicine and lip cream. At Barcelona I left everything in my backpack all organised for the flight and had no problems at all. However at Edinburgh it was a different story. There I was with the same 3 bottles all in a plastic bag in my hand along with her medicine and my lip cream. I had to put the plastic bag through separately. I knew that they would be a bit more anal about everything! Once again I had to remove my shoes despite looking at the lady with a look of ‘Are you serious?’ Especially as I had seen that not everyone had been taking off their shoes! So why me? Why the lady with the baby still strapped to her chest? Once again I imagine that the fuchsia baby sling must have terrorist written all over it . . .

The bottles went through and I saw the lady rewind the conveyer belt to have another look and quickly look up. I wondered if her heart had started to beat a little quicker when she saw so many uncontrolled liquids. Did her pulse quicken? Was she thinking ‘ooh, we might have a situation here? A highlight of my day! I will have a great story to tell at the dinner table tonight’ I motioned to her that they were mine and that I first needed to put back on my terrorist looking shoes and then I would be over. I came over and said they were for Emmeline. I had already prepared myself for a fight in case they said anything about me not being able to take the bottles on. But no, no fight, instead she simply made me drink a little bit from each bottle. Ridiculous. Firstly, do I look like a suicide bomber? Perhaps the tiny baby would indicate that I am not? Secondly, if I was on a suicide mission, the ENTIRE world now knows that airports test liquid. Even tiny villages in the middle of Africa are probably aware of this fact. So, I would have to be a pretty stupid terrorist to try get through security with my little liquid explosions and if I decided to give this a go anyway, surely I could just as easily divide my liquid explosions into several 100ml shampoo bottles? Anyway, a bic pen can be equally dangerous in the wrong hands, so chill the hell out with the liquid obsessions for god’s sake! Ridiculous!

By the time this whole thing was finished and I had to walk another million miles through this airport boarding had started on my flight. Again I tried to flash my baby at smelly bum check in ladies and again this failed miserably. Should have flown sleazy jet, even though they steal from you at least they let you board first! In the end I was one of the last people to get on the plane. And it was a full flight! I found a seat but I could not sit down because I had my backpack under the seat in front of me and there was no space for my other bag because all the other stupid passengers had taken up all the space with all their stupid hard suitcases! So I tried to find a stewardess who of course was nowhere to be seen! And they hadn’t given me the seatbelt for Emmeline. I was boiling and ready for a fight. Not normal in me. So I held up everyone if my attempt to flag down someone. Eventually I did and told her that I needed help as my bag wouldn’t fit in the overhead locker. She very ‘helpfully’ told me to put it under my seat. Yes you total waste of space, I am aware that is an option, however I already have a bag there! So she put my bag on the other end of the plane. Hmm, thanks, now it will be so much fun to try and find my bag when we are in Barcelona! I looked down and the Spanish man sitting there had this look on his face of ‘oh great, I get stuck next to the lady and the baby’. He looked like he was trying to find a way to escape, but alas, there was none! I still had no baby seatbelt and was starting to get pissy. The stewardess´s took their time about giving it to me, and all appeared to have been sucking on lemons before we all boarded. A Scottish girl then sat next to me and although she was very nice, this did mean that I was crammed the entire flight in the smallest chair in the world with a baby on my lap who spent the first hour trying to grab everything of the Scottish girl she possibly could and kicking the Spanish man at every opportunity. Eventually Emmeline fell asleep and I spent the rest of the flight dying from thirst and hunger, supremely uncomfortable holding up my sleeping baby whilst my eyes were getting heavier and heavier and unable to do anything to relieve neither my thirst, hunger or uncomfortableness due to the sleeping baby on top of me, the fact that my bag was totally unreachable due to the fact that the seats in airplanes are not so small I feel like I am in a chicken coop and even if I had managed to get money, I would have to sell a kidney just to be able to afford to buy anything on their menu.

Even though Emmeline is a pretty chilled out baby who doesn’t cry much, flying with a baby is not easy! No one thinks to let you board first. It is not because I think we should get special treatment, but it is in everyone´s interest to let people with kids get on first. There are things to organise! I had to make sure that I had her bottle, I had her dummy, I had a little toy, that she was strapped in, that she wasn’t too warm or cold. It is not as easy as others who simply walk on, switch on their mp3 and switch off their mobile. If we are able to board first, we can choose the seats at the back out of the way or the seats with slightly more leg room so that the huge amount of stuff we need can be with us and not in the overhead lockers where we need to keep getting things. Letting us on first keeps us out of everyone else way, because I know that a lot of the other passengers don't have the patience for us. I used to be one of them! Boy did karma come back and bite me on the arse for that! I know how some people looked at me thinking 'oh no, screaming baby the whole flight!' The stewardess´s didn’t ask if I needed help with anything not even one single time. I remember a time when their job was to help, not to just stand there trying to sell overpriced water and fecking lottery tickets. They actually made my flight worse, not better. It never used to be like that. There were apparently baby changing facilities in the toilets. Thank god I didn’t have to use them! Just the thought of trying to squeeze out of the chairs with Emmeline in my arms sent shudders of fear through my spine, let alone thinking about the rest. It was stressful, but we made it! I would obviously do it again, but this time I would definitely pay the extra and get priority boarding! Just another thing that Ryan smelly bum air makes you pay for, a service that should really be free. I remember when it used to be free, travelling used to be a lot more enjoyable back then!

Our Scotland Trip

We did it, we went to Scotland to see my sister Chantal and meet my nephew Zack! And we had a fantastic time! Let me tell you how it went!

Xavi left to go work down the coast on Monday, so I had a few days to get everything organised, and wow there turned out to be a whole lot to organise, starting with a bigger suitcase! I don’t know how I even thought I would be able to fit all of our stuff into the ridiculously tiny bag I had! It was not easy packing though. I am so used to just having to pack for myself, which is normally a pretty difficult task as I am a ‘just in case’ packer! This tends to mean that my bag gets filled up with stuff I never actually get around to using. Now that I have a baby to think about, I am full of even more ‘just in case’ than ever before – jacket just in case it is very cold, fleece just in case it is just cold, jersey just in case it is only a little cold, long sleeve tops just in case it is just breezy . . . and so on! But a remarkable thing happened that happens more and more now that I have Emmeline. I seemed to not think about what I needed or wanted or would have ordinarily taken to put Emmeline’s needs first. Normally I would have packed loads, this time I went with one pair of tights, a few long sleeve t-shirts and 2 jerseys. Emmeline of course had half her wardrobe with us just in case! The same was to be said with the bag that I took on the plane with me. Normally when travelling BB (before baby) I would take a fair size bag on the plane with me. I would need my music, phone, book, diary, magazine, water etc. This time the fair size bag I took with me was filled with nappies, change of clothing (just in case Emmeline graced me with an exploding poo), wet wipes, bottles, toys etc! What did I pack for me? Wallet, passport, phone! I packed like a man – the bare essentials!!

Well we had a fabulous time there! We started off by meeting my good friend Lynne the next day for lunch. I met Lynne in Australia and we have been the bestest friends ever since. We don’t get to see each other that often but she is a wonderful person! Over the next few days, Chantal and I went shopping, we took the babies swimming, we ate out, we went to baby shops together, we went sightseeing to the centre of Edinburgh, we went to have a look at a few possible wedding venues for Steven and Chantal, we went to butterfly world and we chilled out at home. I had an absolutely fantastic time with my sister, the best time actually. We chatted for ages about heaps of things, we gave each other advice about our babies, we laughed together and we just generally got on like a house on fire, something we don’t always manage to do! It was great! I also got to spend more time with her fiancé Steven, who I have met several times but not for any great lengths of time. So it was really nice for me to get to know him a little bit more as well. And yes, as I always thought, he is a lovely guy, laid back and chilled out, kind, funny and patient - perfect for Chantal. They make such a cute couple and seem to be perfectly suited!

And then there was Zack, my little nephew. Well actually I don’t think that I can really use the word little here as he is not! He is 4 months younger than Emmeline but he weighs pretty much the same and is the same length! He has big hands and big feet and I think he is going to take after his (tall) daddy! But what a character he is! I think that he was born with a frown on his face, this look that says ´what do you want? ´! This may be due to the fact that he was induced and eventually came out by c section. He was very probably still in the tummy because he was damned well comfortable, he didn’t want to come out, the world made him come out, and for this he looks at the world like 'damn you, I was comfortable, so leave me alone will you'. He is adorable! He looks at you all frowny when you go over and made funny faces and start to eat his belly, then he breaks out into this gorgeous little smile and gives you some little giggles. Then he looks at you like 'damnit it, you won, you made me giggle'! I love him! And he has a gorgeous smile and the most beautiful blue eyes ever! He looks at you sometimes with such curiosity and sometimes with total amusement and I would love to know what is going on in his little baby head! He has his own special baby smell and his own special looks and his own special noises that are totally different to Emmeline and equally adorable.

Then we put the two cousins together! They checked each other out with curiosity, the whole time Zack kept looking at Emmeline a little bit like 'who are you?' and the whole time Emmeline decided that it was acceptable to try and eat her cousin! I had seen it happen before, so when she reached out to gently 'grab’ his face I had to quickly pull away her grabby grabby hands whilst I had images in my head of her pulling out his eyes! She then lovingly grabbed his hands in hers and it looked at cute until I noted Zack´s hands going white. It seems Emmeline has an iron grip. She also turned out to be a little bit of a bully by stealing his bottle one morning! But they sat and played together and shared toys and had a great tie together!

Emmeline got so spoilt! Not only did she get new presents, but she got heaps of attention and play time from her aunty and her uncle! She never had a dull moment! It was great because they could play with Emmeline, I could play with Zack, or we could look after each other babies whilst the other was busy. Since Zack is the same size, I didn’t have to worry about packing nappies o anything as Chantal had all the baby stuff I needed. It made life so much easier but left me thinking 'crap, how hard will this be when we go on a holiday to a place where there isn’t already a baby? We will have to pack a lot more stuff!'

The holiday ended far too quickly and before I knew it, I was trying to squeeze things into my bag and freaking out as I knew I would be over the weight limit! Not too much of a surprise there thought, I did buy clothing, toiletries, and about 6 books, so I don’t know why I was freaking out! Oh that´s right, because stupid Ryan smelly bum air charge you 20eu per extra kilo! This on top of the fact that they charged me 20eu each way for Emmeline (even though she has to sit on my lap the whole time) makes me like them even less. We got to airport thinking that we had more than enough time to spare except that we didn’t imagine the possibility that Ryan smelly bum air would be checking in 5 flights at the same 3 check in desks. They were. Hence the million mile queue. Poo. Got through the queue much quicker than I had anticipated and before you knew it we were upstairs and I was being waved off by a sister who was very nervous about sending me off with no phone because if I had a problem, they wouldn’t be there and I wouldn’t have anyone to help me! Bless her, such a worry wart. The flight went without a hitch and when we landed although I was sad at having to say goodbye to my sister, I was happy to be back home. My dad was there and waiting for us and couldn’t wait to hold Emmeline! We got home and Xavi was already waiting downstairs for us! He was already hugging me hello before I had even managed to get out the car properly and the minute I got Emmeline out of the car seat, he only had eyes for his daughter! And I don't blame him . . .

Well, i just wanted to say sorry for the lack of blogs, but me and Emmeline are currently in Edinburgh, Scotland staying with my sister to meet my little nephew Zack!

We are having such a good time, and my little nephew is gorgeous!!

Will be back tomorrow, so will be catching up and posting many a long story!!!

Us

xxxx

Travel Document Rush

So looks like we are going to Scotland next week to visit my sister Chantal and my nephew Zack! He is 4 months younger than Emmeline and I have never met him before!

We were planning to go over there together, Xavi, Emmeline and I but Xavi’s job is very unpredictable.  We don’t know when a job is going to be accepted, and when it is accepted, he works Monday – Saturday which means there is no time for a holiday! So we have waited and waited for a free few days, but with no joy. We were going to go together in March, but in February another n=job got accepted and so March went out the window. Then the boat that they are working on now had to go to a different marina which means that xavi has to go and work down the coast for a week to 10 days. And so I decided to use this time to go to Scotland with Emmeline and visit them!

Then it hit me that if I was planning on travelling with Emmeline I would need to get her an identity document, her DNI! Freak out!

So it started by waking up at 7am to get ready and leaving home at 8:15 – Emmeline in the Baby Bjorn and my bag filled with milk, water, toys etc fully prepared for a long day! By 08:40am I was in the queue at the ‘Registro Civil’ (Civil Registry) to get Emmeline’s birth certificate. I was kind of hoping that having a baby strapped to my chest would give me some kind of advantage but I was too shy to try. Although the Brazilian man who was behind me was convinced that I should try and see if they would let me in first due to the fact that I had a baby. I meekly went to the front of the queue and asked the security guard if I had to wait in the queue just to get a birth certificate. That was my way of asking if there was any chance that I could jump the queue. The answer was that I did indeed have to wait in the whole queue, therefore No; I could not jump the queue!!

So we got her birth certificate and jumped into a taxi up to the ‘Comiseria’ (Police station) to get her DNI done. But first we had to get her photos done. This involved waking a very tired Emmeline – not a good idea! Eventually got the photos done and off we went, but as I got the comiseria, I realised that I had no money to pay for it, so back out to draw some cash. Back in we went but the lady at the front desk informed me that the ‘Padron’ (document stating where you live) that I have for Emmeline was out of date and that I would need a current one in order to get her DNI.

CRAP!!!!

So back in a taxi, down to the pardon office got a new pardon for Emmeline, back in a taxi and back to the comiseria. Phew!

Then came the 2 – 2.5hr wait. So much fun!!

Eventually we got called up and 10 minutes and 10euros later, Emmeline had her identity card!!

Yaay, we can go to Scotland!!

Car drama

I decided that today was finally the day to go and get the ITV for the car (it is like annual check up of the car to make sure that t is still safe and roadworthy). I have been dragging my heels about it since . . . October when the last one ran out! It is just a total schlep to have to do it and we don’t use the car that often anymore. Even when we go down to Valls to stay at the house or see Xavi’s parent, we tend to catch the train. Xavi’s brother died in a car accident when xavi was a teenager and I had a car accident in Australia where the people in the other car involved both died, so we are fully aware of how dangerous cars and roads are! For this we have no problem catching the train instead of driving, especially with little Emmeline. But alas, the time has come. Th weather is getting better and it would be nice to have the car ready for if we want to go somewhere for the day or the weekend.

I think the real thing that has been stopping me is the door lock. Something so tiny has become a huge obstacle for me. You see, the top of the door lock broke, actually let me rephrase that, xavi broke the top of the door lock! So when they door is locked, you can’t actually open the door from the inside as the lock is broken more or less in half. Now to me, this would appear to be a safety hazard – if there was an accident, the person on the passenger side wouldn’t be able to get out of the car. All I actually had to do was to stop in any mechanic and buy a new door lock. The car is parked in the parking of the marina where we used to live because finding parking in Barcelona is nigh on impossible! And paying for a parking space in a parking garage is much more expensive than paying for parking in the marina. But it does mean a 15 minute metro ride to get to the car! So the whole thing about getting Emmeline in her pram, get down to the marina to get the car, find a mechanic to get a new door lock (driving illegally the whole time as I have no ITV) and then actually having to go and do the ITV thing just wasn’t appealing to me! But as my mom was in Barcelona today, I decided to leave Emmeline with her and just get it over and done with!

I met mom at the metro and we walked over to the mechanic together as Emmeline was asleep in the Baby Bjorn, however for some unknown reason, the mechanic was closed! This posed an even bigger problem as the last thing that I needed was to be driving around (illegally) looking for a mechanic. So I did what any person would do, I super glued the two pieces together and hoped for the best!

I kept checking the door lock the whole way there, opening and closing it – the superglue appears to have worked! Although I was opening and closing it quite gently. If a big brute of man decided to do it, he may break it again. And so I decided, whilst picking super glue off my fingers and waiting in the car for my turn for the ITV, that if someone broke it, I would blame them! “But what did you do? How did you break my door lock? You gonna have to fix that you know!”

I was super nervous and figured my best plan was to play little girl lost, which I learnt from my very own mother and can work a treat when necessary. I got through the whole ITV without a single person either opening or closing the damned door lock

SERIOUSLY????

All that work and worry for absolutely nothing! No-one even touched the door lock, they didn’t even look at it!

Ridiculous!