I don't want you to get excited - there is nothing to do with wild animals or fish in this post. It's just G got up over the half term, looked out of the window, saw that the rain had increased in intensity overnight and pronounced that not only was it raining, it was raining 'cats, dogs, deadly animals and fish'. It kept us amused on what can only be described as the wettest half term holiday ever, so I have borrowed it.
So! The Jubilee is finally over and good 'ole Elizabeth and her heart lasted the course. Although it looks as if poor Prince P and his bladder weren't as lucky. As he recovers in hospital the bunting is finally coming down and we can now go head long in to obsessing over the flipping Olympics. Although I would warn you not to as My mother, who knows everything, has said it's not worth bothering with as they are all drug addicts. The olympians. Just in case you were confused. You would be surprised over what she has an opinion on. It turns out it is everything under the sun - selling a house, everyone's sexual orientation, what is tasteful and what is not etc etc - the list is literally endless. For example, whilst watching the Great Bristish Menu programme on BBC 2, where the best regional chefs compete to create a dish for an Olympic banquet, i have learnt that it is pointless experimenting with cooking as it is 'just food', the whole programme was 'stupid' and if you wanted to create a good pudding you can't beat apple crumble so why would you bother. I did point out that if no one ever messed with anything because 'it worked fine as it was' then amongst other things teaching would still be done by scary arsed teachers with canes, who made you sit still for hours on end whilst reciting the times tables and the Kings and Queens of England and being told you were stupid and not worth bothering with if you had any difficulties with reading and writing. Her response was that it never did her any harm. I would argue with that.
So, the half term was spent in the bosom of my family. I would love to know what it is like with other families. Sod wife swap, I want to do family swaps. I would love to know what other people's 'normal' was. I really do not imagine all families can have the same kind of relationships that we do. Maybe it's because we're all female. The searing honesty is one thing I think other families don't have. If an outfit or dress makes you look fat someone will tell you. If you have overdone the fake tan, someone will tell you. If you were massively overweight my mother will refer to it as a time when you were 'disabled'. And IF you were stupid enough to share your choices for names of your unborn child someone will tell you that your girl name is hideous, 'you can't possibly' and my mother will continually do an impression of some Great Aunt she once had with the same name who 'was a bit'. I can't tell you what she was 'a bit' of as the description never went further than those few words coupled with a compulsion to put her hair behind her ear whilst talking as if she had had a stroke. Clearly 'back in the days' there was little sympathy or understanding for people who 'were a bit' - no one even bothered to find out why she kept putting her hair behind her ear and was unable to speak coherently - they just used her as a constant warning against using her name for your baby. Mother's suggestions for a girl were far more exciting - Jane, Sarah and Deidre were my favourites. Or the repeated suggestions of Catherine. I have absolutely nothing against these names or the women I know who have used them as their moniker quite successfully since birth, but they are not what I would choose. I'm not sure anyone is particularly keen on Walter for a boy either but after the bombshell that was my girl choice I gave up and admitted defeat. I shall wait until after the birth, make a forceful announcement of the name and hope that from then on their opinions and impressions are all done behind my back.
I fear as a family we may share too much with each other. I know some things I wish I didn't know about my sisters and my mother and I'm sure the same is true in reverse. I wonder if there are families where they sit around talking about lovely things all the time and all things personal are kept that way? Maybe there are families where they spend a lot of time smiling at each other, where they kiss and hug and gush about the wonders of other members of the family and everyone is genuinely happy for each other? I mean it's not like we sit around with our arms crossed and a frown on our faces spitting at one another but there is certainly no hiding moods and feelings or thoughts and obviously not opinions. It is all very 'out there' chez mother and sisters. Particularly after the wine starts flowing. Perhaps it is all for the best. If it wasn't for the opinions of 'the collective' we might all be wearing clothing that made us look hideously fat and glowing in our orange fake tan with children named Chlamydia or Storm or something.
Mercifully they are choosing to be kind about my excessive weight gain at the moment. Brace yourselves. It's shocking. I have gained four stone. Four. Whole. Stone. I mean, obviously I was aware of my over eating - I believe I have bored you at least once or ten times over with it, but rather crucially I hadn't bargained on four whole stone. I wish I hadn't stepped on the scales. It was silly. I had made quite a few special pacts with the Gods of Fat - never eating a whole tub of ice cream in one day, sticking to only one take away meal a week, not eating all of the children's leftovers every day and including a lot of salad and fruit in my diet to offset the fat and sugar ingested. It turns out that the Gods of Fat did not stick to their sides of the bargains I made so now I am here and whale like once more. Bastards. I feel truly let down. I fear it is going to be a crushing shock once the newbie is born and I allow myself a look in the mirror. In the past, suffering as I was from Reverse Body Dismorphic disorder (I saw my reflection as far thinner than it actually was) after giving birth I was always desperately excited to see myself 'thin' and without the massive bump I had been lugging around for what felt like years. I would positively skip with excitement at my new supermodel body and find it slightly disappointing that photos and clothing did not share my enthusiasm for my fab new figure. Now I have been cured of the RBD I am rather concerned at what I will see in the mirror when the bump disappears and I am left with a lot of excess hanging flesh. Ugh. Thank goodness I always think my babies are gorgeous. Even in the face of clear contradicting evidence. I shall hopefully be so high on the love drug that I shan't give a toss about the excess folds of flesh hanging from my frame and I shall merrily reach for another ferrero Roche to facilitate successful breast feeding. (I am utterly convinced they are the key to success FYI)
Still, I must not grumble. I am actually quite content with things at the mo. I sort of want to freeze time or at least slow it down. The three on the outside of my uterus are all happy (in the most part), healthy and cute enough to forgive all the crap they cause, K is in the nicest job he has ever had and earning enough to keep us fed and clothed and although he is always stressed about money he seems happy enough, there is no massive drama going on, my sisters all have happy things to look forward to and I am going to have a new baby to play with in the next 6 weeks or so (all being well). I don't really want to leap in to the great unknown of the future in case something bad is coming. I want to stay in my nice safe cocoon of the present where all I have to moan about is fat and the weather. And even the weather is a bit of a blessing. When you are heavily pregnant and have gained four stone, cold weather is actually ideal. They are even dropping the hosepipe ban over the next few days. It doesn't get much better. Plus I have a great excuse for avoiding the drug addled den of sin which is also known as The Olympics. Not only do I not have any tickets but I shall also be 9 months pregnant/just had a baby. A lucky escape. Oooh especially if they serve cake there - she cannot understand for the life of her why anyone would want to eat cake as it is just fat and sugar mixed together. There is absolutely no point in arguing that the very reason IS the fat and the sugar mixed together. She will not hear of it. It is faintly ironic on two counts - 1, she fed it to my son repeatedly as a healthier alternative to breakfast cereal and 2, she likes the taste of ice cream which is only fat and sugar mixed together. One cannot argue with someone who knows everything. Luckily she is very good at cooking my meals and washing all our clothes so I tend not to bother.
And with that I shall leave you. The weight will not gain on its own and there is a cheesecake in the fridge (i have made a new pact with the GoF so it should all be ok). Actually I will just share one last piece of family honesty with you Before I tuck in. Ted has become particularly vocal with his opinions of late (clearly a trait he has picked up from my family), commenting on my smell or telling me I am 'too big' for the bath now and pointing out how disgusting my underarms are if I have neglected my shaving routine for too many days in a row etc etc. Last week my mother made the mistake of removing her top in front of him - apparently Ted was not expecting his grandma to suddenly appear in her bra in front of him in the middle of the afternoon and started to stumble dramtically backwards, shielding his eyes with his arm and shouting 'yuck, ugh, yuck, disgusting, yuck' as he did so - he even lowered his arm and double checked he had seen what he thought he had and then carried on with his theatrics and shielding his wounded eyes. It was quite possibly the funniest thing I have ever seen. Particularly as my mother has a rather enviable figure for a 60yr old. I would happily swap with her - what with her hearty dislike for cake she is particularly slender. What possessed Ted to act as if she was Madonna, on stage in her underwear and flashing her nipples yet again for the all the world to see, is quite beyond me.
Perhaps I do want the future to come - I am desperate to see what happens to Ted. This morning he did the school run as a spider - complete with sparkly cobweb black tights and Halloween spider fleece outfit on top and this afternoon he went as batman wearing a bumble bee dress. It is impossible to guess what he might become. I just hope he's on my side.
Ciao peeps. Watch out for the deadly animals and fish x