uh huh, oh yeah

it's undeniable that i am now vvvery pregnant. but that's ok cos we're more than seven months in and it's only now getting to tent dress scenario. what's not so ok is the fact that i am going to be giving birth in the next two months. oh hell. yes, the reality has only just crept on me. the reality of facing childbirth again and also the reality of having a newborn baby in the house again.

the little thing has been ill today. it's a reaction from a jab she had earlier in the week, i think. the poor darling has had a raging fever and then started projectile vomming just as we were about to go to the hospital to attend an appointment for me.

it was only an appointment for a jab in the backside so i wasn't too bothered. but as the nurse came towards me muttering 'blood test', holding a syringe and one of those drug addict elastic arm things, the little thing started to scream ( good show, little one) as I bought us time with an assertion that "nobody told me i'd have to give blood today!".

after several painful minutes of negotiation i was let off the ordeal of having a blood test ( a complete no no in the world of slummies, giving rise to episodes of fainting and feeling weak for the rest of the day) on the condition that i would sign a declaration that i had refused 'point blank' to give blood.

ooh, fine - just show me where. if only everything in life was so easy.

the world of work

it was quite a suprise to discover today that the world of work still exists in my slummy life. i'd been up to london and seen some old work mates yesterday and casually mentioned that i was freelance. on the way home i was doubting that i'd ever get to do anything as grown up as work in a newsroom again. but today i found 3 emails in my inbox offering me shifts.

the world of work reappeared in my life at a particularly good time. i'd just come off the phone to my best friend. we're fiercely loyal and fiercely honest with each other - a perfect recipe for friendship, especially when dealing with childbirth, marriage and motherhood.


anyway. she's a couple of months ahead of me and has baby no.2 already here and hanging off her boob 24 hours a day as she's intent on breastfeeding and the little thing is permanently hungry.

"how's it going?" i asked. "oh my god, he's the most terrible baby. it's bringing back dreadful memories of no.1. the little one's constantly crying and the big one keeps taking his clothes off and the husband's gone out to watch the football."

stumped as to know what comforting words to come up with i mumbled "god, that's a bit shit". we swapped a few more stories then i settled down to ponder my fate as a soon to be mother of two.

it was a bleak future of split ends, endless fish finger teas, possibly even leisure wear (for me, not the little things, obviously) when the perfect escape from my slummy world appeared on the horizon. pinging into my inbox like a ray of sunshine was the world of work.

heaven and hell

country house hotel, drinks on the terrace, herons on the estuary, no baby ... need i say more ?

the weekend away was perfect, the driving distance merely a drag (rather than a reason for divorce) and the wedding was the 100% real deal. it came in at no.2 on my 'all time great weddings' list. and only because the couple at no.1 are long time good friends ... and a little bit beceause the men ALL wore kilts.

the church service at this wedding was short and sweet, punctuated regularly by my incredulity that the vicar actually seemed to know the couple in question (they are not regular church goers). i didn't realise that still happened these days. of course i know about the classes that are compulsory if you want to get married in church, but a vicar displaying this kind of insight was something else.

the reception was in a gorgeous hotel - champagne on arrival meant everyone who was dizzy from missing lunch while at the church service became instantly drunk. all the guests on the terrace were treated to the hilarious enactment of the wedding photos - couple holding hands and running by the estuary, couple entwined against scenic background and ( best of all) groom putting wife over his shoulder and running away from photographer.

we had the misfortune to be seated with the wedding drunk at our table. he was quite funny at the start, with his tales about the problems of parenting but as the minutes dragged on it became clear that this was a well rehearsed routine and our input was not required.

by the end of the evening his wife led him off the dance floor by his ear. he'd spent the whole evening drinking, telling stories about being a slack dad and ignoring her. she'd spent the evening telling us what a rubbish husband he is. i liked her and was about to suggest she look at my blog. then i realised i'd be using her marriage as an example of the kind of couple i never want to be in.

so from the soft focus riverside romance of wedding photography to the harsh reality of dragging your husband off the dancefloor at midnight ... we saw both sides of marriage this weekend.

we all love weddings

tomorrow morning we leave for a wedding in devon. granny-grandad are coming to look after the little thing (children are specifically uninvited) and we'll be cramming bags into the car before spending 5 child free hours listening to bad radio and eating chocolate.

i'm hugely excited and not just because of the childcare. every fellow slummy (and even some yummies that i'm on speaking terms with) have agreed that i'm "... sooo lucky" to be spending the weekend at a country house hotel in devon. but what is it that we all love about weddings ?

1) you will definitely get to eat cake, most probably get to drink champagne. not bad

2) you will possibly get to dance with a handsome stranger. or you can dance with your chosen other who, dressed in a suit, may just look like a handsome stranger.

3) you get to wear fancy clothes that otherwise would stay in the wardrobe or shopping bag

4) for one day the dishwasher, meal times and the school run cease to exist

5) there's always the possibility of a fight (or a least an untoward scene) with all those in laws around. and don't tell me you've never wondered when the bride was more than 5 minutes late ...

6) however mismatched the couple, for that one day you can almost believe they will be spending the rest of their lives together.

7) weddings remind you of romance. when you hear those vows, they do their magic every time

8) weddings are a great place to let your jewellery sparkle

9) and a great opportunity to check out everyone elses

10) if you're married, you get to feel glad that you're in it for better, for worse. sigh. and not just for the diamonds

bonfire of the brands

i just checked out 'http://www.bonfireofthebrands.blogspot.com/'... (if i was more clever then i'd put a link here) ... it's a site set up by a journalist who's detailing his countdown to burning all the branded items he's collected in his 30 years on this earth. as a style journalist he's probably accumulated a lot more than your regular joe, but hey, that's not the point.

the point, as i understand it, is that this guy has got so sick of the consumerist society we live in that he has decided to opt out of shopping and opt in to exploring exactly why he's been gathering all this branded stuff over the years.

in one of his blogs, he takes a route through a part of london that i know well. instead of the familiar landmarks, he picks out the billboards, the flyposters and the neon signs all urging us to spend spend spend. and it's more than our money that's at stake, more crucially it's our attention. because once the idea of something has grabbed our attention, we're likely to pay out in the hope of securing it. because "hey, no-one can tell us what to spend our money on " ... right ?

very wrong.

just a quick skim of this guy's site makes you realise how stupid we are to spend so much on brands. so i've decided to be more brand aware from now on - and pay more attention to where my money's going and look at what exactly i'm buying or buying into. so no more waitrose, starbucks or waterstones and that's just the start. i'll let you know how i get on.

do you think it's ok to take valium during pregnancy ?

well, of course it's not ok to take valium during pregnancy, but it's nice to dream.

the little thing's at nursery for the morning and i have just got back from a swim - desperately trying to shake the cobwebs from a sleepless night. the thing was up four? five? i don't know how many times last night and the hubs and i were equally zapped this morning.

"and i have to go to work" he said.

oh, lucky man. doesn't he know that sentence has the same ring "i have to go to cannes for the mtv party" or "i have to spend this $1000 in barneys immediately" ?

so i'm left feeling like i could do with a little valium this morning. i'm not saying things are BAD, i'm just saying i'd like something to take the edge off. and when i've used the big V's in the past (only for purely recreational reasons, or uttterly necessary ones such as on long distant flights before baby) they've never let me down.

you do get that morning after craving thing, but nothing's perfect in life, is it?

we have a wedding to go to at the end of the week in devon - should be a classic english affair - church service, stately home reception and me in a chic big tummy dress with fab cream retro dancing shoes.

the little thing is not invited so we will have lots of time to drink booze (my one unit always goes down smoothly), flirt with strangers and dance to all the wedding classics.

so that's something to look forward to.

except the day we get back my mother in law is coming to stay for a week. oh god.

you know, now i really do wonder if it IS ok to take valium in pregnancy ...

i love white trash mom

i've been getting to know my fellow bloggers over the past few days and it seems that they're mainly mommy bloggers not mummy bloggers.

american moms have a whole blog scene, believe me. they have blogging mommy group sites that you can link to ( i tried, but my computer skills were too slummy and i got cyber stuck), they have blogs that go back years and they even have a conference and PRIZES for the 'blog of the month'. phew, those girls work hard at blogging.

i came across white trash mom on one of the link sites. reading her scathing remarks on the Muffia ( the US equivalent of Yummies) i instantly knew i'd found a stateside slummy.

tee hee. where else can you read a blog criticising post baby Britney for letting the trailer park side down. how right is she that the vehicle with the biggest tyres always has right of way ? and why is a white trash blog so much more appealing than a muffia or yummy blog ?

it could be inverted snobbery, it could be to do with the fascination of the 'other', or it could just be that slummy blogs are so much more damn amusing than the holier than thou muffia/ yummy kind. i do not need tips on the importance of 'me-time', nor do i need to read a yummy's breastfeeding diary or share recipes. please.

basically, we all know how difficult the motherhood thing is and an evil minded blog can brighten even the darkest days.

yummy bloggers 0, slummy bloggers 1.

first day of summer

i don't want it to sound like i'm boasting, but i'm almost certain i live in one of the most beautiful towns in the south of england.

granted, that summer in this country is a great leveller. the merest ray of sunshine falling on a dark, dingy corner of inner london, for instance, can be enough to renew your faith in city life.

out here in the sticks though, it's a different story. we're woken before sunrise with a dawn chorus that is so vigorous, varied and loud that when you're done with beauty of the sound it, the townie in you is thinking "can't they turn that down?".

it's also full on hay fever country out here. while i don't suffer, the hubs gets it bad. big sneezes, lots of hankies, lying on the sofa and insisting on having the windows shut, all accompanied by his regrets that "it's too bad we don't have AC". but this is england, darling. we'd only switch it on for 8 days a year.

but the provinces prove their worth when it comes to spending summer leisure time. country pubs, walks, tea rooms, farmer's markets, drives out into nowhere. stately homes if you're feeling cultured, fish and chips on the prom if you're not.

the only slight drawback is the niggly feeling i get on the first day of summer each year. i get it when i see People In Convertibles.

there was a survey done recently showing that although sales of open top cars were at an all high in the uk, our average days of sunshine only total 21. tee hee. all that money to drive around with the top down for just 3 weeks of the year ?

well, yes. on the first day of summer it seems like a perfectly justifiable idea. i'm sooo green with envy at all those yummy mummies and their audis and mercs. damn. yummies 1, slummies 0.

10 cheap thrills by slummy mummy

having done some research on what other mummies are blogging about, it seems that the done thing is to write lists. as in "10 things that make me happy", "10 great things about being a mom" or "10 jobs i would love to do".

finding this kind of list a little irritating (and guessing that praising the virtues of motherhood is too predictable) i thought long and hard about what to include.

here's my final selection

1) any stolen moment on the lap top or reading my book

2) pregnancy vanity. same old vanity, different new shape.

3) tricking the deep sleeping hubs into doing the night feed - "your turn darling, i've been up once already"

4) any kind of sugary, alcoholic or caffeinated thing. naturally

5) having absolutely nothing going on inside my head

6) http://www.soundoftheicemelting.blogspot.com

7) thanking god (sincerely) that i won't be trying to conceive when i'm 40

8) builders wolf whistling then seeing my bump. tee hee

9) morning swims in my big tummy costume. with a hot shower afterwards

10) olga, our fabulous cleaner

the end of civilization

it is my view that the end of civilization can be seen for free each weekend at your local supermarket. it seems the bigger the superstore, the better the breakdown of all the social codes that we as humans hold so dear.

in my pre-slummy mummy life, trips to the supermarket did not exist. my meals generally came from restaurant kitchens and food for a rare night in would be bought in a small, select deli or in waitrose on marylebone high street.

to save time and effort nowadays, i get the organic veg box delivered to my door and the rest of the food/ nappies/ whatever delivered by ocado. this arrangement works perfectly, only leaving us without milk or bread on rare occasions when my slumminess means i've failed to click onto the relevant sites.

today was such a day, so off we went to sainsbury's. the hubs offered to stay in the car with the little thing and i agreed this was a good idea. have you seen how couples argue in those hell holes?

i grabbed a basket and began to grab the few things we needed. my first assailant was "TARQUIN !!!! ". Poor Tarquin was knee height, purple with rage and had just run head first into my (thankfully quite empty) shopping basket. Shooting me a black look, a blonde ponytailed yummy mummy with fur collars strode past, assuring her son and the rest of the store that he was "GOING ON THE NAUGHTY STEP THE MINUTE WE GET HOME".

eew. do your telling off in private. can't you bribe him with biscuits or something or just not bring him shopping ?

the next to bump into me - and my six month pregnant bump was another yummy type mummy. in her haste to reach the grapefruit she clipped my heels and whacked me in the back of the knees with her trolley full of fake organic foods. i turned around to shoot her a black look (thinking that is what these women do) to find her staring at the citrus selection, her little girl looked up at me and shrugged. i got it. all's fair in love and war and in the end of civilization which is here, each weekend.

past the smashed jam pot ("cleaner to aisle 15 please, cleaner to aisle 15"), past the shelf stackers who really, really don't wan't you to get past them and past all those bloody people who leave their trolleys unattended in the aisle. onto the check out, blank stares from the blonde doing the beeping, "Got a Nectar Card?", "collecting vouchers for fish or kids or whatever?", "enter your pin", the routine is sooo awfully routine. hurrying to pack my shopping while the person behind me was huffing at my slowness, i finally escaped into the car park where we entered some kind of special bank holiday gridlock.

on our way home we passed some morris dancers, reminding me that it is may 1st today - may day. i wonder whether in the days of may poles on village greens and maidens dancing round the phallic symbol that people thought that was the end of civilization? at least it looked a lot prettier than ours.