Hi.

I have this niggling feeling, that I am missing something.

Stuff for Sparkles.

I stand in the baby aisles, and I hold suits, towels and promptly put them back on the rack.  I have no idea why. I am organised.  It's what I do.  I like lists, plans and an idea of what/why/when.  I also think, I keep telling myself to relaaaaaax that my brain took that message as: STOP! PUT THAT ROMPER SUIT DOWN.

I am reassured in the fact, that we have stuff in storage.  The likes of prams, car seats and cots.  I ordered some CUTE frames for the nursery.  But call me crazy, they are not a box of nappies.Also. this time around.. there is SO much more choice in shops.  When I shopped for EG, there was usually a few measly baby racks at the back of big w.

Now?

Even I can buy baby suits with my Crunchy Nut Cornflakes at Coles.

Soda water, jacket potatoes & pretzels are ruling the roost here.  Insomnia is being nasty.  So are my dicky hips.  I eat rennies because, I like to not have flame throwers down my throat.  I freak out when the kicks stop.  I wish I could take my tummy off for 20 minutes to get stuff done.

I am solo parenting.

Chris has headed off interstate for a few weeks.  A regular income will be awesome, but I feel like I have lost a limb.  I miss him so much.  I look out to the shed, and for the last 6 months or so.. there is has been.

Today, it's jarmie day.  Toys have been set up all over the lounge room.  I am calling it Party Pies for dinner. I taking the day off.  So is EG.  A quiet chilled out day.  She's craving it.  So am I.  I have never, ever seen her so happy to just be.  I have even managed to steal a few moments to read a new book.  Which is lucky.  Because Charlie-puppy ate my last one.

Plus, I'm back on the smoothies.  I am trying to pack them full of goodness, because I do believe.. babies need more than just pretzels.

Loz xx

Blooming Loz.

The thing you forget about pregnancy, alongside my sanity that has been shelved away a fair few years ago.. is the tiredness.  I am so tired, that even the auto correct on my phone has no replacements for the gibberish I am trying to type onto a text message.

Parenting teamed with a healthy dash of pregnancy, is something I would say is: challenging, tiring and a little sprinkling of: please don't destroy things while I have a little cry over here.

I had a few days, where I wondered if I drew pot-luck in the pregnancy lotto.  That's my tongue, firmly in my cheek there.  I spent a good 20 weeks, in a toilet side vigil.  Every single cell in my body hurt.  My eyeballs even felt weird.  Medication didn't really help. So I rode it out. I recently saw severe morning sickness described as: food poisoning that never ends.

Enter stage left: pelvis of doom.  Can we talk friend to friend for a second?  Because I can only explain it as: Hot pokers up my hoo-hah and hip joints that have me thinking I am the Tin Man. My osteo is helping this lovely predicament, and I can only say.. please just make me a cup of tea and warm up my wheat bag.

But inside, calling womb-service every 15 minutes.. Is the Miss Sparkles.

Soda water makes her crazy.  She is quite partial to Beef Strog at the minute.  She likes to join into family conversations by kicking my nether regions quite swiftly.  Heart burn is a new fun addition to this mix and I may be sleeping on a pillow mountain.

EG likes to check my pregnancy app to see what size fruit she is.  She likes to plan what she will do with Sparkles when she is here.  When they are older, they are going out for their own cake & coffee at the cafe I go to with my sister.

Bless.

It's an epically crazy time.  Some days, as a run my hands through my hair for the 80th time.. I think: How can I do this all again tomorrow?  But some how you do.  You go into survival mode.

Because, my motto is: Bloom, where you are planted.

Even if those blooms are sometimes get trodden on, you can always find some beauty if you look hard enough.