Monday, October 30, 2006

No cribs, no frocks either

I went to where I expected the Maternity wear section of a large department store in one of our bigger shopping malls to be the other day, only to find it replaced instead with Christmas paraphenalia. Confused, I asked a shop assistant where I might find the daggy leggings and unflattering tops.

"We close that for Christmas", she said

"Oh!" - the only response my befuddled, bewildered, hormone ridden brain.

Walking out it struck me that with what, nine weeks to Christmas, Mary would have been what, 30 weeks at least (give or take a few for prematurity or over for primigravidity- or at least 'young womanliness' depending on which translation you read).

Poor Mary. Forced to birth in a stable, no crib for a bed, and presumably poorly fitting pre-pregnancy baggy tracky dacks to wear. The invisibility syndrome strikes again.

Friday, October 13, 2006


It was 35 degrees today, so when I got home from work, I suggested we go to the beach to cool off. Of course, being only October, the water was freezing, so we just lay on the sand. I asked my T if he had thought of any names for the Peanut.

After a minute's contemplation, he said "How 'bout Raby?"

"Raby?" I said

"Yeah, Raby the baby. Or Cletus the Fetus, perhaps"

It degenerated from there.

Thursday, October 05, 2006

"What to Expect When You're Expecting" is a crap book.

Another Reason NOT to buy “What to Expect when You’re Expecting”

page 169 “A Pregnant Pose”

“If you’ve been dodging the camera lately (“no need to put yet another 4.5 kilos on me!”), consider striking a pregnant pose. Though you may prefer to forget what you looked like pregnant, your child-to-be will definitely relish seeing his or her first “baby” pictures one day- and so will you, eventually. To preserve your pregnant progress for posterity, have someone take a photo of your profile each month. Dress in a leotard for more dramatic documentation of your silhouette, and compile your photos in a pregnancy album, alongside the ultrasound shot, if you have one”

Oh yeah, sure junior is going to just looove seeing its mum in full pregnancy mode. Because then they will make that whole “but that means my parents would have had to had … have sex” realisation a whole lot sooner. Definitely relish? I don’t think so. “Mum! Put it AWAY!!”.

I especially love the ‘directly translated from the american’ “4.5 kilos” quote. Why if they bother putting in the decimals did they not make it 4.8 kilos, which is what 10 pounds is.

The italics are mine, btw.

Best book on pregnancy- would have to be "Up the Duff" by Kaz Cooke. Contrast:

(p. 187) "Week 19- what's going on. Your waistline is missing, presmed obliterated. You may have backache, skin pigment changes and a tendency to vague ... somethingerother." Or this, (page 189- on maternity wear- "Don't worry if your maternity wardrobe is all black, or all navy, or all incredibly boring in some way or other. At least everything will match. You'll be so sick of the sight of everything by the time you give birth, anyway, that it doesn't matter...The maternity fashion poilce will tell you not to wear overalls or stirrup pants because they are unflattering. May I just say that from about the thirty-second week of the pregnancy, you might as well be wearing an armoured tank: nothing is flattering."

No, that is not a hand at the top. It is a leg and a foot. Fetus is 'pike' position (aka frank breech- oh no!). 19 week morphology scan... all good...

Get frocked. Aka 'what is wrong with the world these days'

*Sigh* Life is so unfair.

Global warming? No.
Rise of the Right? No.
Third World debt? No.
Abuse of the human rights of asylum seekers? No.
Unjust Wars? No.

I'll tell you why.

In my youth, living in a small town we were blessed with op-shops in which you could find genuine 50s and 60s polished cotton frocks. I loved them. I lived in them until they either fell apart or I grew (outwards) too big. I still pine for them- you just can't get the patterns or the material to make them, and they had disappeared from the op shops.

Until now. The frock is back, and walking htrough a suburban shopping mall the other day, there were racks upon racks of gorgeous frocks in every store from Target and Portmans to the beautiful Leona Edmistons in Myer. They... are... EVERYWHERE. This, it seems, is going to be the summer of the frock.

So why the misery? I should be revelling in my favourite fashion of all time. Except for one small thing.

I am no longer a small thing. There are two of us in this body, and no matter how squished and contorted I try to get there is *no way* I am going to fit a frock this summer. Oh! The anguish!!

I'm off to sulk in my stretchy pants and 'gravidity' t-shirt.