31/03/2009

Fun with Pregnancy(?!)

Here's a good old venting blog I've been building up for a month or so in my brain, about the wonders of being the male half of a pregnant couple.
Now, don't go shouting 'oh you poor man not having to carry a child or push it out of your bumbum', because I'm in full agreement with the female side of the argument, how it's all painful and all effort and pushing and uncontrollable urination and such, I just feel that us blokes either get no sympathy at all (why we should get some is below) or get turned into insensitive, heartless idiots when we offer the slightest word of complaint.
Why we deserve a modicum of sympathy? Well, for starters, there's the morning sick creature that carries your future child. This is no longer the woman you wanted to spend all night with, watching episodes of American Idol with, because she is just so lovely that you'll put up with any old crap. No, this is a creature of endless vomiting and complaining (both come out of the mouth, both of which now render her completely inable of doing anything else. Thus the man is left doing every single household chore (not easy when there's a 4 year old undoing the chores shortly after you've done them) whilst still being all sensitive and loving and sympathetic and not falling asleep when she needs you. For all the gratitude you recieve...
And then when it comes to morning sickness, and whatever other ailments that she ends up getting during the pregnancy. Turns out the only things that pregnant girls can do if they get poorly is bugger all towards getting better. The only 'cure' offered by NHS Direct for Morning Sickness (which is a lie. It should really be called Any Time You're Awake Sickness) were those ridiculous sea-sickness wristbands that have no effect, eating little and often (i.e. eating something in between throwing up bouts and hoping it stays down) and for some bizarre reason getting her to lie on her left hand side (improves circulation or some such nonsense), this last one is obviously impossible as the telly is on the wrong side of the room.
For some reason it's impossible to buy these sea-sickness wristbands over the counter at Tescos, even though they are on the shelf next to the Rennies, and since they are a Pharmacy item, they cost twice as much as anything else in the store. For an elastic band with a plastic lump stuck in the middle, and no apparent effect I can heartily unrecommend wasting your money on such crap.
Cravings next, and the reason my house smells like a dodgy burger van. She's gone mad for fried onions, and general unhealthy deep fried stuff and stodge. So, anything like Yorkshire Puddings is good. Anything that requires little effort to cook, tastes nice or helps with my efforts to reduce my gut size is out. And yes, I know that there's the option of cooking separate meals, but then that means eating in separate rooms as the nice looking, nice tasting food that I would want to eat also happens to be the food that triggers off her gipping fits. And by now I've emptied enough buckets to know that everything I can do to prevent a gipping fit is worth doing. (no carrots in pregancy vomit though, unusually - even when she eats carrots).
As for the length of the morning sickness, I think if her last pregnancy is anything to go by, we've got about a week or so left until she stops chucking and enters the so tired she can't do anything stage. I swear none of the above ranting will be found in Myleene's book. Grrr.
Anyway, that's enough ranting for now. Will try and get some more splurging done sometime later in the week.
Happy Humping!

21/03/2009

Peanuts, Biggles & Faggots

Why do they always put the option for 'title' at the start of the blog entry form? Do some people actually know what they're gonna splurge before they do it? Wow.
Anyway, stuff what has happened since I last splurged... Had a dating scan on the baby in Gem's tummy, turns out it's only 9 and a half weeks gone, so it's actual due date is about five days before Jess' birthday. Which will probably be easier in some respects (one big party instead of two, less chance of me forgetting) but will probably throw up all sorts of annoying complications (especially when they hit their teens, i'd expect).
Anyway, the scan pic is here -> http://www.twitpic.com/2a3jp <-if anyone wants to have a look. On that pic it looks a bit like a peanut, but when the lady wiggled about the ultrasound thing we did get to see fingers and toes and such (no willy or lack of at this point, too early for such things apparantly, before you ask).
Also sold a lotta lotta stuff on ebay, finally got round to being persuaded to shift my Marvel Essential books, mainly because they take up so much room, also because I'm fed up of visitors going ooh look at all them in a sarcastic 'youre a geek and we think you need to be mocked' voice. Also got rid of a few unwanted Transformers, and pretty much all of my most mediocre DVDs (obviously kept the really good ones, but also have the pisspoor terrible ones left as well just because I know Gem can't stand the sight of Biggles on my shelf). Don't seem to have any spare cash still though, thanks to the ridiculously huge lecky/gas bills and everything else extra that needs paying out this time of year. Which is just irritating. Ah well.
And when I'm not taking the missus to be ultrasounded (full bladder required - fun car journey over speed bumps hehehe), ebaying or eating three packets of skips at a time, I'm on twitter. Twitter is lovely, completely random lines of text from completely random people about completely random topics.
I was going to be all gimmicky and do this blog post in 140 character chunks in tribute to the wonders of the tweet, but then I realised that firstly, noone would notice and would just think I was writing very short paragraphs, and secondly it's impossible to have a good rant in under 140 characters. Which means that most of my tweets are either me complaining about something and writing 'urg', celebrating something and writing 'yay' or eating something and writing 'yum'.
Anyway, that's it for now, I am going to be eating some of Mr Brain's pork faggots now. Which, as well as being incredibly tasty are also good for confusing site swear filters and Americans, who by this point would be thinking I am munching down on an offensively piggish homosexual. Which I would never do. Because Dr Brain's faggots come in a lovely gravy and piggish offensive american homosexuals don't. At least not round these parts.
Right then, See ya soon, add me on yonder twitter if you'd like http://twitter.com/fudgecrumpet and go and look at my lovely ebay stuff here http://search.ebay.co.uk/_W0QQsassZfudgecrumpet

09/03/2009

Beating the V-Point

Right, before i get started properly, my Watchmen review (everyone else seems to be doing one)... Bloody good adaptation with too much extra violence, an annoyingly channel 5ish slo mo porn scene and the distraction that is a glowing blue penis just waggling about on screen. Not much point reviewing it to be honest, anyone that's going to see it has already seen it, and everyone else will wait for the dvd or if They're smart read the original graphic novel.
Now then, thought i'd blog a bit tonight, seeing as tomorrow is going to be stress day, what with us going to get the official yes on gem being up the duff. It's one hell of a morning-sickness-style bug gem's got otherwise. Good god i hate it when she's all morning sicknessy, which for starters isn't just in the bloody morning, It's all day, and occasionally all night. Most of the time she's just dry hukking, chucking up without actually bringing up anything, which is fine for me, noisy as hell and triggers my guilt nerves, but at least she's not filling her bucket up with the most foul smelling stuff ever. I'm no good around vomit, and for some reason she thinks that It's my duty to empty the full, well i say full... It smells full, even if there's only a splatter... Bucket. Now for any other person this is probably an easy task. For me this is an almost impossible chore, as the stench of sick automatically triggers my gag reflex and sends my tummy into Eject mode quicker than a dodgy bhuna from the local takeaway. But still, i have designed a rudimentary device for stopping the gipping, basically i tie a t-shirt around my face, so i look like a crap ninja, and then i am able to perform my husbandly vomit disposal duties without any risk of myself throwing up. Of course, this only works if i don't see the sick in the bucket, as for some reason seeing the sick triggers the same results as me smelling it.
Now it seems The only way to keep gem from reaching V-point, the point at which her innocent hurrrking turns to carrot soup city, is too keep her full of toast. So my toaster is on constant standby, and i bought an extra loaf to get us through the night...
Anyway, that's my morning sickness rantblog done. Back to twitter, which i'll rant about next time probably. Well, actually It's a kind of definite, as it seems to be taking control of everything in my life like some crazy 140 worded brain lurgy. Or maybe i'll realise what a waste of time it is and start bitching about it. Either way, see ya soon!