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I was browsing through my stats page today when I came across a search term someone had used to find my blog:
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.”
[Note: I originally published this piece here as How to Talk to Your Children About Gay Parents, By a Gay Parent. The post took on a life of its own and was read and shared by lots of people whose kids might be exposed to homosexuality any number of places, and not just through kids with gay parents. So I figured it was time to freshen the piece up a bit and broaden the scope.]
It could happen anywhere, at any time. A train station. A Disney Channel show. The NFL draft.
Your kids are just hanging out, being kids and daydreaming about candy, when suddenly they see…
TWO DUDES KISSING!
Or maybe they spot a little girl in the dropoff line at school. She kisses her mom goodbye, and then… she kisses her other mom goodbye!
You feel a tug on your leg, you look down, and…
View original post 1,636 more words
So first some non-pregnancy related moaning, forgive me.
I’ve been waiting for a while to deal with Thai immigration and finally transfer my visa over to my new named passport. Partly I have been putting this off because it is a massive ball-ache and partly because I was waiting for the holidays so I wouldn’t have to take more time off. This is my third school in Thailand and so my third attempt at doing anything visa related. Every time there is a new problem. Some piece of paperwork they suddenly need or no longer accept. I threaten wrinkles and gray hairs arguing with officers and agents on each occasion.
To complicate matters further the ongoing political unrest here has forced the usual venue to close and the immigration department to relocate to a dodgy mall on one of the worst streets for traffic. Terrific.
We arrived there at 10.30 am, the opening time, the first day. I parked in a sketchy car park, nervously negotiated through the gangstery ‘red shirts’ main base, helpfully located right next door to the new offices and picked our way through hundreds of pretty poor Asian immigrants to find the ‘teacher’ counter. My queue number was 48, they were at 7 and moving veeeerrrrryyyy slowly.
My school had organized my paperwork for me. Just as well as a lot of the documents involved are written in Thai and I wouldn’t have the first clue. As we waited it became apparent most people did not have any help and each applicant sat at the desk with the officers for upwards of 15 minutes, having things explained, making photocopies and locating missing paperwork. 3 hours later I was seen and quickly informed I was missing a document from my embassy stating I had cancelled my old passport.
- one hour taxi ride to UK embassy. Closed to my request in the afternoon. Joy.
- Get up at 5.15am the next day, 2 hour car ride, go to embassy. Get paper but am forewarned immigration might need another paper which costs 50 GBP. Decide to risk it to try to save money.
- Get to Thai immigration. Given queue number 148. Currently at 65.
- Wait for an hour and a half. Queue currently 78.
- Stick belly out and plead case to same officer from previous day. Told to sit back down.
- After 20 minutes of pleading eye contact officer secretly takes paperwork.
- 20 more minutes until she opens paperwork and begins to process.
- 20 minutes until she hands to boss to check. Success, hooray!
- Proceed to another counter, wait 2 more hours and attain a re-entry permit. 6pm and done.
Absolute nightmare. And the worse thing is all teachers have to go through something similar every year we work here. And as we’re nearing the end of the academic year I have to do it again in May. I am hoping I’ll be so huge by then I’ll take my queue jumping skills to new heights.
After all my crap was done it was soon time to start WW’s as part of the ‘Great Thai baby Escape’. That was similarly awful:
- get up at 4.45 for 7.30am appointment. Traffic surprisingly light due to local holiday.
- arrive at destination, park, go in only to be told the offices moved two weeks previously.
- Set off for new destination. Park in car park. Get stuck in lift as we don’t have the resident’s key card. Get saved by people on the ground floor.
- Get to offices at 7.30am. Told they actually open at 8.30.
- WW returns to offices at 8.15.
- Informed at 8.30 they have to process a bunch of monks before anyone is allowed in.
- WW called inside to queue at 8.50.
- WW seen for paperwork collection at 9,30
- WW returns to a grumpy me with a numb arse and air conditioning chill at 9.40.
- Saw that WW’s agent was named Titiporn, cracked the first smile of the day.
So now we start a different kind of two week wait, holding our breath and crossing our fingers that we are going to be allowed to have this baby in the UK. I will commence my own version of early POAS in a week in the hope that things might move quickly than they’re supposed to, for a change.
And now- baby news 🙂
Somewhere in the midst of all this was our 6 month ultrasound. I am pleased to report I only gained half a kilo in the last month. I used an website to calculate my expected weight gain based on height, previous weight and bmi and I am in the high end of normal. Like most of my internet based research this finding fits with what I want so I’m going to take it as gospel.
My urine diabetes test came back negative and my blood pressure was normal. Yay.
During the ultrasound Dr. Porn was less into translating, despite WW asking for him to speak in English but I was able to follow along well enough. ‘Bokatid’ meaning ‘normal’ was the term most commonly used. He looked more closely at the heart chambers and showed us everything was working as it should. I got mildly chastised for eating lunch an hour before and cause Squirt to go into a food coma with his knees pressed into his face and feet above his head, meaning we didn’t get the clearest 4D alien face shots again. Oops. Dr Porn again complimented his long, pretty legs. Everything was good. He said Squirt is a large baby, but I am a large woman so I should be OK at the birth. Gulp.
It was the first time I’ve been able to feet Squirt kicking me and watch it on the ultrasound monitor, which was pretty special. His kicks are very strong now, rocking my belly and often waking me up during the night. I am also peeing every couple of hours so afternoon naps have been back on the schedule.
I started watching a virus-outbreak-end-of-the-world series called Helix and then woke up with the same red, scaly eye sockets as the infected patients…. but am trying not to think too much of it.
I have officially outgrown the largest bras in Bangkok (38 DD, if you’re interested- you nosy buggers). Even the Marks n Sparks granny bras can’t help me now. I am struggling on, (in and a little out) with the aid of elasticated maternity tops which hold things where they are supposed to be, kind of. My poor boobs are left with angry red bra indents all over at the end of the day, plus a sexy heat rash in my cleavage, just to add insult to injury.
Heat. 35 oC, 95oF and 50% humidity. That’s all I can bear to say on the matter. Plus that garbage dump fire seems to have reignited this morning. What the hell am I doing here?
I can’t stop eating cakes. Seriously. And the doctor didn’t tell me off so I feel like I can get away with it again. Help, someone relocate and reinstall my self control. Quick, before I completely spill out of my bra.
Um…. oh, we also had a wee trip to K.L., which was nice. When we arrived I was saved from an hours long cue by a security/immigration lady who spotted my puppy eyes and deliberately pushed out bump and whisked us to the front, shouting ‘Pregnant! Pregnant!’ like there was a fire.
I pretty much just ate my way through our days in the city, there wasn’t really loads else for a pregnant lady to do. We walked a lot too, which hopefully combated the fact that I had been eating muffins for breakfast at our hotel buffet. It’s a nice, open city. Not at all smelly, cramped and dirty like Bangkok. With actual, walkable pavements, again unlike Bangkok. It was slightly cooler that BKK but very humid and we spent a lot of time ducking in and out of the many malls for a bit of air con. Bangkok has them beat on bathrooms though. Even the newest, fanciest designers malls had minging, dirty bathrooms. Some had full time maids in there and still they were smelly and soaking wet. I have no idea why. I also missed the Bangkok taxis. We refused to pay the rip off rates and so wound up doing a little more walking that I would have liked to. All in all, it was nice to come home again.
Well I think that’s all for now…again there doesn’t seem to be a lot of pregnancy news on this pregnancy blog but that’s because it’s all been (touch wood) quite pleasant and easy recently. I even uttered the phrase ‘I could do this again.’ yesterday, which I couldn’t have said in December. Then WW pointed out I haven’t given birth yet, so I might yet rescind that statement.
Anyways, health and happiness to you all and happy Songkran (Thai New Year, the worlds greatest water fight- I’m currently battling with WW to let me go out and play)!
PS. Ultrasound pics after the jump.
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.
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!
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.
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?
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?
- 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.’
Thanks for the continued support guys. I suppose the only think more boring than bed rest is reading about bed rest so thanks for sticking with me.
Nothing much to report today. I have continued to feel sick as a dog and gassier than a…dog (? having a brain fart, sorry) all day. 3 days of hard core nausea and no sunlight has given me an interesting pallor. I feel a little like I’m auditioning for the Walking Dead. Not helped by the fact I decided it wasn’t worth showering or brushing my hair today. I did brush my teeth a few times as now I can smell my own breath and it aint good.
No cramps or bleeding since that horrible day.
My friend recently had laproscopic surgery to fix a hernia which cost his insurance company 5,000 GBP. Shit balls, I hope that a D and C would be a hell of a lot cheaper because at the moment we only have 1,000 GBP and that’s earmarked for an FET. Scratch that, I hope we don’t/wont need a D and C.
Only one more night of worry. WW has promised two more weeks of vegetarianism to Buddah if everything is OK and I’m going to go ahead and renounce my atheism in his favour if he gives us a hand over here. I think I will stop and say a prayer and give an offering at a shrine on the way tomorrow.
There are no longer any atheists in this foxhole. She’s gone the way of the girl who didn’t believe in superstition and old wives tales. I am now a full convert. Things are out of my control, I’ve done everything I can. I hope whoever is taking the reins has got my back.
Oh my god, the morning sickness as risen to new nauseating heights. Felt truly awful all morning. I tried all the usual tricks and was eventually saved by a packet of salt and vinegar crisps. It has been better this afternoon. Or rather it has been replaced by a nasty, smelly case of the dtods (flatulence…oh the glamor). Does anyone know if women continue to have strong morning sickness episodes during a miscarriage?
I am being very demanding to WW, who is doing an admirable job of not getting too frustrated by conversations like this:
WW: ‘I’m at the Mall. What do you want for lunch?’
Me: ‘Oh, nothing. I feel too sick to eat anything.’
WW: ‘Are you sure?’
Me ‘Yes, thanks.’
11 minutes later…
Me: ‘WW, I have to have some chicken nuggets. Right now.’
WW: ‘I am almost home now.’
WW: ‘Do you want some ginger tea?’
Me: ‘Ew, yuck no…oh, actually yes.’
I am not trying to be annoying but I go from sick as a dog to starving with weird cravings in a blink of an eye. Sorry WW.
As I have mentioned before my health insurance doesn’t cover pregnancy or anything pregnancy or birth related. I tried to find additional insurance but was told it was impossible without taking on a ‘joint plan with my husband’. WTF? It occurred to me late last night if this is an ectopic pregnancy we are most likely going to be paying for a D and C out of our own pocket. I have no idea how much that operation costs. I think the only thing more depressing than having to have an abortion would be having to use our IVF fund/bankrupt ourselves in the process.
Oh Buddha, Santa, Thor or anyone else with any control over my body, please help my baby to stick and grow. Please.
The bleeding and cramping stopped last night. Which was nice. When I woke up this morning it was almost like yesterday was a bad dream.Almost.
I felt quite sick this morning and I’ve been ravenous all day. The healthy diet was scuppered a little but I’ll try again tomorrow. My boobs are really sore and I can’t get comfortable when I’m trying to sleep. My belly has felt tender and a little uncomfortable but not crampy, per say. Other than that my main symptom is boredom. Oh and a wee case of cray cray hormones when I was doing my sexy snorty laugh at the Monster sitting on WW’s head in bed, and then I started the uncontrollable crying. Fun times.
I forgot to share yesterday that we were having some English as a second language problems at the clinic yesterday. First we had to explain the word ‘tampon’ to the doctor. I’m not cool enough to not get embarrassed by this stuff yet. I asked for a doctor’s note for work and received one stating my symptoms were ‘threatened abortion’. Note to self, clarify the difference between abortion and miscarriage at the next appointment.
Thanks so much for all the kind words everyone. You’re keepin me from sailing away down the waterfall of nuttiness.