Thursday, March 17, 2011

Sad

Why is it people hold grudges? Why is my decision whether or not to remain in a relationship 1 and a half years ago still cause for people to treat me like I am worthless? And why do I still desperately miss the friends who now hate me?

I just spent 15 minutes in the shopping centre car park after Thursday night food shopping, sobbing my eyes out. Friends, who once counted me as close as a friend could be, went through the Woolies aisle next to me, obviously also trying to squeeze a weeks worth of food out of as little actual money as possible.

This one particular person also said once, on her wedding day, that if I was ever to leave my husband, she would miss him dearly but I was her friend for life. Well, it must have been Mr. Jack Daniels who promised me that, because the silence was deafening. Eyes averted, talking as quietly as possible, they pretended I wasn't there. As we lifted and shifted, swiped and paid, I twice went to say hello and twice was meet with purposefully turned backs.

Things have happened in past weeks that have really turned 2011 on it's head. Fires, floods, earthquakes and now a possible nuclear meltdown. There are far, far worse things that can happen to a person in their life than the things I have experienced. So, why the childish silence? It's enough to make a person wild with anger. And if I am angry, why the tears?

The tears are because I still care. Despite a year and a half of solid silence, despite contact and pleas for understanding and apologies, they continue to ignore me, but I still care about them. And I miss them. And their carefully contrived silence hurts.

I am the only person who has to live in my skin, and the my choices are just that: mine. Sometimes I make mistakes, don't we all? A true friend would stick by you, even of they disagree with your decisions, and love you despite your faults.

I miss you guys. I am sorry for whatever wrong I did you, even though I have no idea what it could be. If it is the fact that my family now lives in 2 houses instead of one, I want you to know that I did what I thought was best, and what you see from the outside isn't always how it is. I hope that you can understand, and know that the driving light in my life is Ava and everything else is secondary. I wish for you the same things I did 2 years ago; happiness, family, love, security and a life lived with no regrets. I know that you will probably never read this, but if there comes a time in your life where you think you could not hate me, I hope the universe finds wings to speed these thoughts and wishes to you.

Monday, March 7, 2011

Pre and post babies... a glossary

Accessories
Pre: Carefully chosen and colour co-ordinated earrings, necklaces, watches, belts and rings. All fashionable, in style, amazingly modern or uber-retro.
Post: Washed hair and clothes that have not been peed on, puked on, snotted on or cried into. Ironing optional.

Breasts
Pre: Pert mounds, high and firm, with tiny nipples. Definitely face north.
Post: Two sad, deflated sacs that sit up relatively high until the moment you take off your super-supportive, wired, corseted, titanium lined, hideously expensive brasserie, and then flank your belly button under your nightie.

Exfoliation
Pre: a careful procedure, best done twice weekly by selecting the best, preferably expensive creams and lotions containing perfectly round beads of non animal derived ingredients to smooth and brighten skin by removing dead skin cells.
Post: A brisk rub with a towel after a even brisker shower. Every other day if you are organised or very lucky.

Girls night
Pre: silly, funny drunken fun.
Post: silly, silly Pony/Disney/fairy movies that you have already seen 1000 times. Little girls hyped up on sugar. Tantrums and/or vomit.

Poo
Pre: bodily waste, bi-product of digestion, definitely taboo conversation topic.
Post: yardstick for child development, completely acceptable topic of conversation, needs to be sifted when a curious child swallows a two dollar coin.

Money
Pre: Carefully budgeted into savings, spending, bills and rent.
Post: What's that?

Love
Pre: A fuzzy dream that somewhere, there is a soul mate for you, someone to complete you and make you whole. Someone to hold, kiss, cry and laugh with. Someone who holds you high and holds your hand, and will keep holding your hand for as long as you both live.
Post: Your child.

Because I didn't really know what love was until she came into my world.

Friday, March 4, 2011

Humungous Nunga nungas

I had my follow up appointment with the dietician this afternoon. It was a bit mixed, as I had a very good week then a very bad one, but Ya-el said that I seemed in a far better state of mind about food and my weight than last time. I can't help feeling a little bit put out that this is going to be a slooooooooow process, but if I restrict myself in my diet, as soon as I stop restricting myself, all the weight and more is going to come back on. It needs to be slow, gradual changes until eating less and moving more is the norm. However, one little thing is getting on my nerves.

I have ginormous nunga nungas. (So, two big things, actually)

Before I had Ava I was a comfortable 12D. Big enough to be very busty and sexilicious, but not ridiculous. Well, a couple of days ago I went into Bras N Things to get fitted, as I haven't been since before I was pregnant, and when the lady told me that 14E was the largest they had in sports bras, and that I actually needed to go up a cup, I almost cried.

14F. F for 'fucking huge.

I don't really know why it has me so upset. I know that I have put on weight, and I know that it will take a lifestyle change and most of the year, AND THEN the rest of my life eating healthy to change this. I had my follow up appointment, she is very happy with my mental, emotional and physical state....but my boobs are huge.

When Ava was just born, and I went to breastfeed her for the second time (the first time was laying down in sort of a haze as the midwife explained about proper attachment and my nipples NOT becoming infected and dropping off as she manoeuvred the mewling infant onto my breast) I held onto my boob, up and out of the way, for fear I would suffocate her.
Midwife: "You can let go now, she's on properly."
Me: "But... she won't be able to breathe!"
Midwife " Yes, she will.....that's it......."

I let go. One or two seconds ticked my. Suddenly, like a flash, the midwife had dived at my breast, and all of a sudden was holding it off my tiny infants nose.

"Okay, change of plan. Maybe you should support it here, just so she can breathe, okay" Gotta love how calm she was.

I want little, pert boobies.