I am no longer Grinch-green…almost.

Hello everyone,

I hope you all had a lovely Christmas.  It was quite a relaxed affair in our neck of the woods. We opened presents first thing in the morning, like little kids. We were both amused by our surprise gifts to one another. Apparently great minds think alike and buy each other the same thing. A pretty, fancy charm bracelet each. At the least we chose different charms for each other. That would have been creepy.

I didn’t manage the Christmas food, as expected but I did manage to put away a sizeable portion or WW’s amazeballs lasagna.  Yum, and yay to the first protein I’ve been able to able to have for a while.

After that and National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation I was pretty much straight to sleep. Party on, as always.

On the 27th we had our 10 week scan, 3 days early because the clinic was shutting for the holidays. I arrived having to pee and had to wiggle around for an hour and some before it was our turn. By which point I thought I might wee in my jeans when they started pressing down on my tummy with the wand.

But the minute we started I forgot all about that. I could see the baby’s arms and legs wiggling around! A cute, tiny dancer! Doc W said everything looked good, the baby is measuring at 3.5cm which he said was 10 weeks and 1 day ( an overachiever from the start 🙂 ) and the heartbeat was 170 bpm. And no dildocam, hooray! Although I miss the clarity. I’ll post the video after the jump but don’t feel like you have to watch, there’s not a lot to see other than the gaping black chasm of my very full bladder.

Other than that there’s not a lot to report. I tried to engage WW in a baby name conversation this morning but she didn’t want to play. I’ll take a minute here to explain that Thai people often have a long, complicated legal name but go by a short nickname which can change throughout their lifetime or even in different situations. Some nicknames are given to them by their parents and some choose their own when they grow up. A lot of nicknames can seem odd to Westerners like me. Here are some of my favourites which I have encountered while living in Bangkok: Beer, Pooping, Smint, Gun, Ice-cream, Pu, Cup Cake and Oil. WW’s nickname is a shortened version of her formal name which translates to ‘special’. Teehee. WW doesn’t want to think about names until we know the gender. Eventually, when pressed, she offered suggestions of ‘Obama’ and ‘Maldives’ … we agreed that I would choose the English name and she would give them a Thai middle name.  I did request that the Thai name not contain any Thai consonant combinations that I cannot pronounce and make me look like I’m having a facial spasm when I try.

And, as for a symptom update, I’m sure you’ll all be relieved to know things seem to be taking a turn for the better. My face is no longer trying to represent constellations. I have widened my food aversions to allow a little, not smelly, not particularly tasty meat in, on occasion. And most importantly I don’t feel like I’m going to puke every minute of every day. Just sometimes when I’m really hungry or walking around a lot. Woohooo.  My gas and bloating persists. I am using an elastic band through the button hole of my jeans. I could still button them but my belly is not keen on any pressure. I am now wearing the sports bra almost exclusively. At least I found a use for it. It’s not like I actually ever did any sports wearing it.

More good news, we convinced the Monster to sleep in her cage outside the bedroom since we moved to the new house so she’s not choking on my butt fumes in the middle of the night and waking everyone up. Double Woohooo! And it’s still only 20 degrees C here so I can actually wear jeans without collapsing from heat exhaustion, triple Woohooo!

TTFN and Happy New Year from a cheery Emz, WW, Squirt and the Monster! Have a great one!I will blatantly be well fast asleep hours before the bells start tolling. I guess I might catch them on one of my million pee breaks in the night 🙂

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Christmas Eve….right?

Howdy,

So, we moved. It was a crazy day, although mostly for poor WW. I pretty much sat at the new house and pointed to the intended location of stuff for the movers. WW, meanwhile was rushing about in the old house packing, supervising the movers, trying to sell the last of our unwanted stuff and receiving translation calls from me and the internet installation woman. Wonderful Wife or Wonder Woman, as she should perhaps be known, then unpacked a bunch of stuff and cleaned most of the house. I, I’m embarrassed to admit, managed to unpack the livingroom between bouts of nausea and make it look pretty. That was about it. Sorry WW.

As the movers were leaving I pretended not to notice one of them checking out our photos and pulling his mate over to look. WW told me he was telling the others we were a couple(!) as they left. Makes me kind of wish they’d stumbled across our troves of lesbian sex manuals, s&m gear, enormous dildos and role play outfits. Joking…or not? You decide.

Moving on from what I’m sure is a charming mental image (you’re welcome), to the title of today’s post. I have been reminding myself it’s Christmas Eve all day because it’s easy to forget. I had to take three breaks the first time we put our tree up and neither of us could face doing it again. My usually visually assalting Christmassy livingroom looks normal. There are no decorations around and no ‘Last Christmas’ being played incessantly. Nothing is closed, nor will it be tomorrow. 

I was a bit tempted to let the whole thing slide by, rather uncelebrated as pregnancy seems to have escalated my laziness to previously unrecorded levels, but nay, there shall be a Christmas in suburban Bangko.k! I watched 3 Christmas movies today, ate waaaaay too much Christmas pudding, stuffed the Monster into a Santa costume and said to WW, every 20 minutes ‘It’s Christmas tomorrow.’

As for the big day itself we had made plans to go and eat a scrumptious Christmas carvery buffet in town but we had to cancel. 30 GBP each seems a lot when all I have eaten for the last 4 days is fruit, toast, sandwiches, smoothie and roti with bland cheese. And poor WW hasn’t been able to have a very varied diet either (without me moaning at least) as every smell from fried chicken to chocolate, to quote a corker of a Scottish phrase- ‘gies me the dry boak’.

Other symptoms-wise over the last two days it has become possible to play join-the-dots on my visage. There is a definate pre-bloat roundness to my abdomen although that could be cheese roti related. My boobs now slap me in the face with every step. Well, not really…but almost.  Sickness and tiredness are prevailing. But yay ‘cos it’s all a lot more managable when I can just lay about taking it easy rather than dragging my sorry, nauseous ass to work.

Hmmm, anything else to report? Not really. I was at the clinic last Saturday for another delightful intramuscular injection (which randomly wasn’t too bad this week) and the docs fancy scales told me the Week of Toast diet had caused me to lose a little weight. I’m sure this week’s Cheese Roti 3x a Day diet will have put paid to that though.

Overjoyed that I am pregnant, of course but will miss the usual pigging out which is only guilt free for me at this time of year. My parents sent an awesome package filled with Christmassy deliciousness but Squirt is turning the nose to most of it. Only the aforementioned Christmas pud and an amazing box of Stolen have been permitted thus far. How can a child of mine not want to share some flavoured dark chocolate or ferero rocher? A couple of months ago I couldn’t get enough of the stuff. Tres bizarre. I guess we’ll probably make up for it later.

That’s all from me for now folks. Take care and Merry Christmas! See you on the flip side. 

TTFN X

PS. There’s been a spate of positive pee sticks on my blogging feed- yay and congrats to all who have made it out of the trenches. To those still down there have some wine, a ton of yummy food and a lovely holiday!

Nearing deadlines

It’s a nippy 21 degrees C( 70 F) here in B.angkok today and for the first time in three years I wish I’d worn a jumper. Bizarre but much appreciated. I don’t know how ladies could deal with the heat, humidity and, ahem, odors of the city when they’re already feeling like heaving. The lovely downtown perfume of drains, bins, traffic and heat can turn even the strongest, non-pregnant stomach.

We are now 3 days away from moving house. WW has managed to check some things off our list. An old, tough as nails lady came and haggled herself a bargain out of our various appliances which we no longer need and agreed to uninstall, shift and re-install herself, so that’s good. WW also booked movers, for an astronomical price considering we could practically carry our stuff the two streets down ourselves if I wasn’t ‘in a delicate condition’. The only slight snaffoo being that none of our stuff has worked it’s way into a box yet. Shitballs. Where’s Marry Poppins when you need her? I tried singing that song but the only thing that happened was the Monster ran away and hid.

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I’d like to think it will all be OK but we’re pretty crazy busy for the next few days so I’m not sure when it will get done. I wonder if our expensive movers will be adverse to packing boxes as well as relocating them? Hey, who would I be without something to worry about though, eh?

Nothing new on the symptom front except for my insomnia kicking into a higher gear. I awoke for the day at 3 am this morning, which I could have done without. C’est la vie, at least I only have to two more days of work. This is my 3rd day of eating only toast and smoothies. I am officially unable to eat any animal products.

On a completely unrelated topic it’s amazing how crappily incomplete my childhood memories are. I always enjoyed watching some movies over and over again. It’s great to be able to share my childhood favs with my students, most of whom haven’t ventured into the cinematic delights the 80s and 90s have to offer. However I really must re-watch movies before showing them. Today we watched The Goonies. If you haven’t seen it, shame on you! Stop reading right now and go an watch it!

You’re back? OK. If you have watched it since being a little kid you might notice there are loads of instances where one might worry it is not entirely appropriate for school. The word shit/bullshit are said 19 times and the beginning Mouth translates in Spanish incorrectly and talks about marijuana, heroine, cocaine and torture devices. I hope I get away with it :-/. We once had a parent complain that we showed Hocus Pocus (disney.) because it was too scary. This was a fourth grade class.

What were your favorite childhood movies?

TTFN x

Effing Insurance

‘So this plan will insure your baby from the day it is born. You have to pay 600 GBP every year for 10 years. It wont cover if the baby is not born healthy though.’

‘So if it’s premature and needs care it wont be covered?’

‘No.’

‘Okaaay.’

giphy

‘This other plan cost 400 GBP year and covers baby 30 days after it’s born.’

‘But doesn’t the school give me that one for free for one family member? Remember you refused to recognize my wife as my family and cover her, but I can get it for the baby right?’

‘Ah, ok. So can have. School pay.’

‘Okaaaay. But what about maternity insurance?’

‘Oh, Thailand no have.’

‘But I thought you said people at our other school had it?’

‘Ah, no. Not insurance. It’s fund. School pay directly.’

‘But my school doesn’t?’

‘No.’

‘OKaaaaaay.’

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‘I have here maternity package. 900 GBP for vaginal birth, 1, 500 GBP for Cesarean section.’

‘And what if I give birth prematurely?’

‘Then cannot.’

‘And if I have any complications?’

‘Cannot.’

‘And if the baby has problems?’

‘Not include.’

‘Okaaaaaaaaaay.’

angry-child-gif

‘But is OK, na. You healthy. You baby gonna be healthy.’

‘Oh, shit. Why didn’t you just say so? Thanks for all your help. All my worries have been lifted and I will no longer be haunted by nightmares of astronomical medical frees and crushing debt. You’ve been great, punctual and not at all unclear at any point during all this’ …. I wanted to say. But of course I’m British so I didn’t. Instead I said.

‘Ok, great. Thanks for the information. Bye.’

stressed

Countdown-ing. (totally a word!)

Today my half functioning brain is full of different count downs.

  • 4 days until school holidays. 4 more days of watching Home Alone, The Snowman, The Grinch and other classics with all my students. 4 more days of deep breathing in the bathroom trying not to vom between classes. Four more days of doing the ‘gotta pee’ dance during 45 minutes lessons.
  • 7 days until we move house. 7 days left to locate boxes, pack our large, messy lives, find someone to help us move and find someone to buy our wanted stuff. Current number of things on this list checked off- zero. Ahhhh.
  • 4 more weeks (fingers crossed, jinx, touch wood) until I can tell people I’m no longer alone in my body. I’m crap at secrets and this one has been a doozie to keep.
  • 4 more weeks (fingers crossed etc) of feeling sick and being unable to eat anything except toast and fruit smoothies. And four more weeks of slimy, gross progesterone bullets.
  • Approximately 1 week until my tits finally explode out of my bras.
  • 13 days until I am faced with trying to eat a huge and expensive Christmas dinner buffet. Possibly this was a mistake, in retrospect. Fingers crossed I don’t get sick for the first time this pregnancy all over the goose.

 

What are you guys counting down to?

 

TTFN X

  • 1 hour until I have another meeting with the company insurance lady. Here’s hoping she has more definitive answers for me today than ‘Mmmm.’

The last (hopefully) dildocam date.

Hey everyone,

So lots of new things happening over here. My very kind and generous mother-in-law decided pregnant ladies and motorbikes don’t mix and decided to help us buy a car. WW wouldn’t even consider getting anything second hand so we have graduated from my usual shit-kicker, hidden at the back of the lot, to a brand new Suzuki from inside the showroom. I must say it’s quite pleasant to drive without the roof leaking on you every time you turn right, or worry that if you stall you will have to get out, pop the bonnet and fiddle with the starter to get it going again. Although these things used to make me feel like I was winning at feminism.

So today, instead of the usual motorbike, taxi, skytrain, underground train, walk journey we had a very nice and comfy 45 minute drive to the clinic to get our 8 week ultrasound. I managed quite well with the roads but stumbled a little at the parking. I had a long, fraught history with multistory car parks. The only damage I have done thus far has been navigating these dirty, gloomy, narrow bends and trying to park in too small spaces surrounded by big ass concrete pillars. My depth and width perception is not great.

Imagine my horror when we arrived in the multistory attached to my clinic and were waved into a (very f’ing narrow) car elevator. I don’t cope well in these situations, especially not with some dude waving his arms around in a foreign language and trying not to giggle to be helpful. I got in OK but got into a little bit of a tizzy trying to get out. Multiple attempts at reversing, accidentally going back down and then having to go up again, shouting at WW, trying to give up, crying, shouting some more and eventually I was out. Bleugh.

So after a veeeerrrryyy long wait we we into ultrasound and we got to see Squirt. Arms and legs and everything. And we heard the heart whumpa whumpa-ing away at 165 bpm. Yay! Big smiles all around. I can’t believe Squirt is only 1.8cm and yet has arms and legs. Super cute. Plus Doc W said we could graduate to tummy ultrasounds next time ‘so as not to disturb the labia’. I swear my Doc can’t say words like ‘labia’ without blushing.

One rather painful butt injection of progesterone oil and then a slightly uncomfortable wait while the teasing nurse chatted to WW while leaning on my ass, and we were done. I spent a good 10 minutes getting lined up perfectly with the lift so I could reverse straight out without having to touch the steering wheel but we survived.

Symptom-wise I am still a sexy sleeping, farting, nauseous beast. To add to my general air of craziness I have developed an eye-twitch which, teamed with my forgetfulness and tendency to brain fart, I’m pretty sure has convinced my colleagues I am rapidly sailing over the deep end.

eye-twitch

Speaking of work, we got all excited because my boss told me we could have maternity insurance which would save us thousands. But then the insurance lady at work said no. And then maybe yes. And then no again. And then she wasn’t sure. So my boss said she’d fight for us. Fingers crossed.

My cravings remain as unpredictable as every. A few nights ago I declared I wanted scrambled eggs. Which I had never eaten before. Thank goodness WW is such an AMAZING cook, and hasn’t grown tired of my unpredictable tummy. Scrambled eggs on toast has been my happy tummy go to dinner for the last three nights. I’m trying to stay off the chicken nuggets. I gained half a kilo since last Sunday, gulp!

Anyway I will leave you with some photos of Squirt (and lost sibling) back when they were itty bitty cell balls and the human shaped squatter we have now below the break. And, possibly a link to WW’s shaking iphone video. I hope I don’t jinx myself doing this.

TTFN XX

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Farting and Feminism

Hey,

Well I’ve completely sucked at blogging recently. I used to spend my afternoons writing to you guys but I’ve been busy recently…napping. Apologies. I also have very little to talk about except wanting to puke and farting. I wasn’t sure a daily post concerning these two topics would enthrall you.

Tiredness is a big factor at the moment. I’m taking an hour or two nap once a day and falling asleep around 8pm. I wake up every two hours to pee with a new, crazy dream every sleep block including, but not limited to: snakes, drowning, telling my mother, x-rated sauciness, food, peeing and out of control students. I’ve never really paid much attention to the meaning behind dreams but this list doesn’t feel like it reflects a happy and balanced mind, now that I look at it. Anyhoo, after a lot of subconscious nuttiness I wake up between 4 and 5 and see what’s going on in the blogging world, and check to see if the country has imploded. Which it hasn’t..yet.

The political unrest here hasn’t improved although, so far it has been more peaceful. An estimated 5 million people took to the streets yesterday to march and demand an unelected people’s council. My friend Rox over at http://becomingtwinmummies.wordpress.com/ shared this quote earlier regarding the situation:

Anjana Tang Suvarnananda “Thailand is probably the first country in the world to see its middle class citizens come out on the streets demanding an outright dictatorship instead of democracy. Dictators of the world can only dream of.” — Credit to someone else, not my own words.

Scarily, this pretty much sums things up. The PM dissolved the government and planned a new election in February but the protesters are not happy as they will inevitably lose the election and wind up with the same government in power. So they want a non-elected, non-politician, whom they presume would be devoid of corruption. I find myself unimpressed by any of the politicians. I am yet to hear of any who don’t have a long history of mischief and misdeeds. But an unelected ruler? Sounds a little frightening.

Political alliances aside, I am furious with the PM. Here is Thailand’s first elected female prime minister. Yay feminism, thought I, when I first heard. But, much like the infamous Maggie Thatcher, I feel she is doing more harm to the women’s right movement than I would have believed possible. Although for completely different reasons than Mags. Every time things get a little heated (or, to be fair, a lot heated) she finds herself a TV camera and turns on the waterworks. Seriously, what the frick? We’ve all had hard days at work, but you can’t start crying and hope everyone will feel sorry for you and back off!! And quotes like ‘I will stand up to the protesters, even though I’m just a woman’ aren’t helping your cause either, you nitwit. Why would a penis make it easier to watch you’re capital’s entire middle class population come stomping up the road to bang on your door and demand you, ahem, relocate??

Grrrr. Yingluck’s nickname is Pu. ‘Nuf said I think. Rant over. Back to the indigestion though :-). If anyone has any tips, hints or old wives tales on how to avoid the whale/beach ball evening look and the resulting stinkiness I’m all ears. Really, do share.

The food issues are getting more complicated by the hour. At the moment fruits are in. And there the healthiness stops. Fried onions, eggs, milk, meat with strong seasoning, actually anything that smells strongly, is out. Chicken nuggets have continued to play too large a role in my diet. As have crisps. Oops, Must do better. Also the nausea only abates when I am munching on said heart-attack foods so there is a chance that I will gain all my advised pregnancy weight in the next 4 weeks. Oops again. Last night the Monster started retching and was almost sick. I guiltily wonder if she had set up camp too close to the business end of my powerful flatulence. The frequent near-death-by-crushing incidents haven’t taught her not to lie to close to me at night. Perhaps now the message will have gotten through.

TTFN, off to turn the duvet into a gas chamber again x

My life sorted it’s self out but my city went to hell in a hand basket.

I’ve mega broken my attempts to blog every day. Apologies to anyone who noticed. All of my internet time has been spend watching the developing events here in Bangkok.

I wont go into all the details but in a nutshell what were peaceful protests, with people gathering in their millions to blow whistles and march, expressing their discontent with the government, have turned violent recently. There were clashes between police and protesters as they tried to gain access to some government buildings and police headquarters. Tear gas, water cannons and rubber bullets were used and there were rumors that real bullets and chemicals were also used. All of the incidents were confined to several different areas in the city (no where near where I live). Thankfully there haven’t been any widespread problems.

We’ve been sitting watching with baited breath since Sunday. My school and many others were shut on Monday as a precaution. Things seem to be calming down now as both sides call a truce in order to celebrate the Kings birthday on Thursday (another day off school for me 🙂 ).

One thing that did tickle me was that on Sunday evening, when things were really heating up, there was suddenly a lot of panicked reports of explosions in a busy downtown area. It transpired that a riot hadn’t broken out, in their infinite wisdom the British Club had decided to have a Guy Fawkes Fireworks celebration. A month too late and right in the middle of a political crisis. Genius.

In other news, on the pregnancy front, I am feeling much the same. Nausea is a big, green part of my life right now. I have developed a hard core chicken nugget addiction which is supplemented with bland noodle soup. I am trying to sneak some vitamins in on the sly by chasing my unhealthy food choices with fruits and salad. I’m also drinking milk every day which I haven’t done since we used to be forced to neck warm, cheesy milk cartons in Primary school, that some nitwit had inevitably left next to the radiator. I am young enough that my parents had to pay for my gross, gone off milk. Thanks for that Margaret Thatcher (the milk snatcher).

Um…anything else…oh, how could I forget the gas! My tummy is constantly gurgling away and eruptions bubble up and down with very little warning. I’ll be honest here and say I did blame a stinky one on my students…. it’s difficult to maintain any respect when you’ve just dropped a rotten egg. Apologies kiddies.

I asked WW if I looked pregnant in the outfit I wore to work this morning. She told me no, I just looked like I’d eaten too much. Thanks for that. The scales tell me I haven’t actually gained any weight yet but I guess it’s being redistributed from other areas to my breasts and my belly. I hope it’s coming off my ass.

People at work either think I am knocking at death’s door or a skivving little toe-rag. Neither is helped by my crap lying. I had a few raised eyebrows and comments that I was off for a long time last week. I wanted to stroppily tell them I was losing one of my babies, not taking duvet days but I’m afraid to start telling people this early. Especially with what just happened.

I’m also waking up in the middle of the night for an hour or more which sucks because I’m knackered and I loooooove sleeping.

Other than that I’m feeling good. Roll on Christmas!