Princess Stuff.

Appreciated Homies,

Today, after the Weird Dialogue with Little Person Living Inside My Head (I swear I still have not lost my marbles), is a cute princess crafts session. My niece’s birthday, the youngest one who is turning three,  is on the 18^th, and so this coming weekend, there is a birthday party going on. I’ve decided to make little Princess packages for all four girls, my two nieces and their two cousins. Pictures for you, My Loverlies. How happy are you, right?

The Materials for the crafting. From left to right, in the front row (like this is a Prom picture): princess stickers, glitter which looks like strings of diamonds, silver sticky letters, acrylic paint in bubblegum pink, eucalyptus green, powder blue and straw yellow (all Ceramcoat),yellow and white ribbons and silk paper for wrapping, a gift bag for the Birthday Girl's present and paper mâché hearts, in their raw, brown form. In the background, from left to right, my paint box on top of which rest two of the paper mâché hearts which I have already painted, a case of Corona (which has nothing to do with this post - ahem), and the noodle boxes I got to put the Princess heart-shaped boxes in (why am I reminded of a Nirvana song?), nestled in green silk paper.

 Anabelle's Gift Bag, containing two books: one about Sirens and one about Imps.

 The Princess Boxes, once they are done. The noodle boxes, decorated with princess stickers on all four surfaces, are meant to nestle the four princess heart-shaped boxes, each identified with the girls' initials (from left to right, Liliane, Anabelle, Éva, and Clémence). The Princess boxes are filled with real fruit gummies. Yum.

Grievances.

We have been wanting this for so long.

Sometimes, we have been patient. Sometimes not so much.
We have made sacrifices and have had to give up very, very important parts of ourselves.
These has been doubt and there has been loss.

It is happening to loved ones - we are genuinely happy for them because we truly care - they are our friends - but our inner selves, once the giddiness has subsided and the hugs are given,  glaze over, take a deep breath and ask "Why not us? If not now, when?"

Does one have to grieve endlessly? Really? Is November making this worse?

Monkeys Postponed.

Well.

Monday came, the new post didn't. Sorry about that.
I'm experiencing slight computer problems. Eech.

I promised you Monkeys. I promised you Blurbs and Banter.

You'll have to forgive me for postponing these entretiens to a later time. Thank you for your indulgence, Loverly Ones. I owe you one. (Actually, I owe you several. But we'll discuss that topic some other time, too.) This is a blog, I am entitled to some indulging.

Since Tuesday evening, I am being jubilating. I am being happiness. I am being yesyesyes.

As some of you may know, I've been through a rough patch, baby wise. we've lost 3 babies so far, and am sick of it. I was beginning to wonder what kind of tumor ate at my insides, what thyroid malfunction fucked up my body, and which food I should ingest to make sure my blood iron was good enough. And folic acid and all that. And good stuff. You know, for baby-making. You get it.

Well yesyesyes, jubilation and happiness! The tests I took in the Fall have revealed nothing is wrong with me physically. This is, to say the least, extremely relieving. Phew. We're now heading into Genetic Investigation Territory (I know, I know - so CSI of us!) to figure out what's up. My doc said for all he knows, we could have just hit a streak of bad luck. So, pardon my Inuktuk, Fuck bad luck. It's been 3 years, gimme a baby. Why can Brittany Spirit and Angelina BradPitt and freakin' Girl-Next-Door who thinks self-indulging can make you with child have twelve kids, and not I? Goddammit.

So voilà. I know some of you out there care (B, you should know I carry that angel everywhere), and so would like to know.

As for the excepts from my book, well, that was just bullshit. :o)

The Furious Five.

Let me begin by saying something very important: I have not written in a while and I am truly sorry, Numerous Readers. I know you need your fix once in a while. If you’ve been re-reading my previous posts to make the withdrawal symptoms go away, I am also sorry, and hope you instantly start feeling better. Nnnnow. Now.

I have no excuse for not writing, other than the one where I don’t have a computer to myself anymore. So, yeah. I have to share with my gaming man. It’s okay, but I don’t get to set the mood to write. I need my music, my desk, my environment. And now, I do it right here, in the living room, in full view of my man. He calls me his blogging master sexy goddess of love. So it’s not all bad - I will stop complaining now. Some people don’t even have computers. Some people don’t even have loving, caring, handsome mates to call them blogging master sexy goddess of love. Goddamn, I’m lucky.

Okay, Monkeys. Here we go.

Today’s feature: “Five Things That Are True & Make Me Go Eech”.

Item Number One: I’ve had an irritating/sad/tiring week but I’ll survive.
Regarding Item One, I’ll blame myself. Maybe it’s because I have no patience this close to my holidays. Also, I have about one-third of the time I need to do everything that needs to be done before I leave for two weeks. Wait – did that sentence make sense? You know what I mean.

Item Number Two: I have nothing to write about right now.
I’m just sitting here typing, trying to avoid turning around to watch the TV, because my man is presently watching the most annoying show ever invented. I used to watch this show out of curiosity, and now it’s morbid curiosity that makes me turn around and go awww damn. Item Number Two was resolved three minutes ago: I fished my i-pod out of my bag and am currently grooving to my tunes. I don’t have to hear the inane chattering. Blah! In your face, inane chattering! Take that!

Item Number Three: For the fifth month in a row, I am not pregnant yet.
I got crushed this week, because. Item Number Three crushes me every time I get my period. Another month without a shrimp in my belly. Another month to wait. I need to calm the fuck down. Oops, I said fuck. Oops, I said fuck again. I could go on forever. Seriously, though, I am in some sort of hellish paradox where I am relaxed and happy and I’m enjoying the perks of trying to have a baby, but I’m also waking up every morning hoping I’m pregnant. I’m sure some people would recommend therapy. I am writing my own prescription on this one: calm the fuck down. Thinking about it too much apparently prevents your uterus to do its job.

Item Number Four: I don’t like my feet.
They may be the canvas for my next tattoo, maybe that’ll help. I’d have to convince my sister to get another tattoo too. We’ve had both our tattoos done at the same time. I can’t break that tradition. Is it a tradition? Does it qualify as a habit? Will our respective karmas turn sour if we don’t get tattooed at the same time? Why are marmosets so cute?

Item Number Five: One of favorite bands just cancelled their concert.
…which I was supposed to go see Sunday night for free. With my little bro and my man. Would have been magical. Sigh. Why, Little Pixies That Rule The World, why? How will you ever make it up to us? This was a once in a lifetime opportunity!

That makes five. Eech.

My man asked me to tell you that he has a hole in his sock. In the right one. And, technically, he has two holes in his sock, but don’t tell him I told you. And now, a marmoset. Because it's so damn cute.

"You like my stick? It's my stick. It's not your stick cause it's mine. Mineminemine. Mmmmine."

Gabrielle

Dear few who read this blog,

I did not know how to do this. I did not even know if I would continue this blog. But I have decided it is a good idea to keep on going, and this entry is unfortunately not a happy one. I had to notify K, I did not want her finding out here. H and I lost our baby girl, Gabrielle.

I had not felt her move since the night before. I decided not to be alarmed. I had a long day at work, I was tired, and figured I had been too busy to feel her kicking. When I called the clinic the next morning, I was told it was better to show up at the delivery room to get monitoring for a while just to make sure everything was ok. When two nurses did not find her heartbeat, a sonogram was done. We are still reeling from the shock of not seeing her little heart beat in black and white on that monitor. I think we will be for a while. I delivered her Friday, the 13th, at 1:30 a.m., at 28 weeks of pregnancy. The autopsy revealed the umbilical cord was too tight about 1 cm from her belly, making it impossible for food and air to make it through. This is a complete fluke, and is not something that could have been foreseen or prevented. We are relieved to have an answer to this - we were told in 60 to 70% of cases, there was no answer, no cause, no relief. I am glad this is not unexplicable. It would have made it all tougher. We got to see her, we got an answer to our disbelief and sorrow, and we know it will be ok next time.

We are doing well. We have not given up our desire to start a family. We just need a little time for the stars to align again, and we'll try again with hope and excitement.

We're packing up the appartment. The big move to our new condo is on Saturday. It's very exciting to move into a new home, and a welcome beginning to a new chapter in our lives.

The Little DJ That Could

Unreal.

First the Dr. slid the Doppler on my belly and we could hear Vvooom-Vvooom, real slow. That was my blood flow. A little lower and to the right, however, there was a rave party going on. For the rest of the day, H and I would look at each other once in a while and do our best imitations of Shrimp’s heartbeat. I think I’ve replayed that sound in my mind every hour since yesterday. I am still in awe. The other thing that took my breath away was hearing H’s reaction. I could not see him – all I heard was him sucking in his breath when the beat came on the speaker. I laughed and the Doppler moved. No more baby beat. Then we found it again and the Dr. was nodding in time. It was…wonderful.

Shrimp’s got a little setup in there with little turntables and all. Right now, he’s working on getting the bass down pat. And it sounds very promising.

Pluck my Twanger!

Note: This post was meant to go live yesterday morning, but because of technical problems with Blogger, it's 24 hours late.

Hello, Boys and Girls.

I laughed my ass off this morning when I was reading CraftyGrrrl's blog. She makes me laugh very often. Some days, British accent + Children's show + sexual innuendos is what I find funny. In this case some people might not...oh fuck it. I am not going to justify finding something funny. (I am not sure how to go about this, so I'm just going to copy the link to this funny thing. Thank you, CraftyGrrrl!) Enjoy.

In other business, I am going to eat crepes for lunch today. I will be happy. I will mentally run to P for protection when someone starts telling me what it's like to have kids. And then I will mentally scream in her face that I find her very annoying with this and I would like her a whole lot more if she wasn't such a fucking smartass about everything, and I will have kept my dignity the whole time and I will walk away a better person. And I will not be arrested for disturbing the peace.

Shrimp is ten weeks old today.

Dear Shrimp,

You poor thing, you have a psycho mom who does things to people in her mind and that makes her feel better. Just a friendly warning - she will probably do this again when you become a teenager. You know, when you insist on wearing clothes that make you look naked/make your real face disappear underneath five coats of concealer and other cosmetic things/refuse to listen to Wu-Tang/do fuck all with your life at 25/total her brand new turquoise Segway.

Your mom will deal with it.
Love,

Your mom xoxo