Internet Searches

I was browsing through my stats page today when I came across a search term someone had used to find my blog:
‘Xxx. porn.milk.labour.lesbian”
My initial feeling was “Ew.” (of course that’s a feeling!)
Then I saw that they read (or looked at) 4 posts. Did they think that they’d find lesbian labour porn on the 2nd, 3rd or 4th post after being unlucky with the first?
Did my writing impress them so much that they delayed their porn hunt in order to read my blog?
New feeling was “check me!” (yes, also a feeling).
Or did my blog turn them on despite its lack of XXX lesbian labour milking porn?
Back to “Ew.”


The wonderfulness of WW

A few people have asked why WW is named WW (wonderful wife). Firstly I chose this name poking a little, gentle fun at some other blogs who use the abbreviation DH (dear husband) which makes me gip a little. Secondly it is because my wife is, well, wonderful.

This is not going to be a gushy post, although you’d be forgiven for thinking that based on the title. Instead this will be a completely non-biased reflection on how amazing WW is 🙂

Hi, I’m Emz and I’m a lazy person. There, I said it. If something requires above the usual effort and isn’t going to dramatically improve my life it often doesn’t get done. Why investigate why I was watching black and white TV in 2012 when that would require messing around with plugs? I could deal with black and white. I thought it gave me a retro, hipster edge. Why would I replace a bulb if others were still working and it would require a trip to the hardware store, and locating an actual hardware store? Why wash clothes when I could squeeze one or two more outfits out of my tired wardrobe?

WW moved into my apartment on a Saturday and suddenly, by that Sunday my life was fixed. Actual colour TV with a sharper focus. No more stumbling around in the gloom of an evening. I was stricken by a choice of three or four work outfits at the end of the week.

WW is also the sensible one who curbs my flights of fancy. She firmly tells me no when I am captivated by an uber cute puppy for sale. She queries the wisdom of my plan to have three (or more) children. She looks at the price tags of things when I see something shiny that I MUST HAVE RIGHT NOW! She reminds me that I cannot comfortably walk across my school campus so a pub crawling night across the city might not be the best idea.

She also takes charge of all the grown up things like managing our finances, paying bills, sorting out insurance, planning for big purchases, deciding budgets, talking to banks, planning Squirt’s and my doctors’ appointments. I no longer get nasty shocks at ATM machines with a week until pay day, have to pay bank charges or realize I have an appointment an hour away in twenty three minutes.

Sure you might argue that I am biased about the awesomeness of WW because I love her but I am not alone in my opinion. Squirt thinks she’s pretty fabulous too.

I’m sure most parents would agree with me that kids go through a phase of favouring their mother. Well, that’s Squirt and WW. If he’s happy and well rested he’ll tolerate me for a bit but if he’s hurt, sick or cranky he only has eyes for WW (and screams for me). I can be pulling my funniest faces or throwing him dangerously high in the air but he just squirms around trying to figure out where she went and how to get there. When she makes teddy dance and sing the only two lines of ‘Head, Shoulders’ that she knows (‘Head, shoulders, knees and toes’ and repeat…and repeat) that’s hilarious but when I make teddy dance and sing complicated three or four verse rhymes with appropriate actions (!) teddy gets thrown on the floor.

It doesn’t matter that I became an IVF human pin cushion or walked around feeling my bulgy ovaries. It doesn’t matter that I gave up booze and caffeine for over a year, the good cheese and ham for 9 months and ate more pineapple during the conception than is probably healthy. It doesn’t matter that I lugged his heavy butt around inside me then pushed his ENORMOUS head out of a tiny hole in my body. Or that I was chained to a pump for 5 months sucking life-giving juice out of myself. It doesn’t even matter that I am also a mum. Nope. He’d rather have WW. She is that wonderful.

We both love you immeasurably, WW. Thank you for all your hard work and general wonderfulness, especially right now when I am somewhat broken.

OK, that last bit was a bit slushy. Apologies.