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Baby stats:
Current size: About the size of a roll of toilet paper, but not that chubby.
Weight: 1 lb 5 oz (595g)
Value in Pound Coins: £62
Value in Loonies: $85
Value in Love: Priceless.
Value in Sickeningly Sweet Vomit: 1.4 Heaves.
Developed this week: Hear that, Mr. Anderson? That... is the sound of viability. With today's advanced technologies, our baby is now viable. Unfortunately, our hospital doesn't exactly look like it has advanced technologies, so let's hope she hangs on a few more months.
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Aimee's thoughts:
I can't believe that I've been pregnant for almost half a year - where did the time go?
It seems like just a moment ago I was in morning sickness agony and the weeks were dragging by. Now, they're whizzing past right when I'd like to slow them down and enjoy things. But there's no slowing down a baby and I've realised that we are entirely unprepared, which is a foreign feeling to me as I like to be prepared.
I didn't even realise how unprepared I was until I decided to look up one of those 'Planning Your Pregnancy' lists online - you know, the ones that are similiar to wedding planners and they tell you what you should be doing each week if you want everything to go smoothly. To be honest, I looked it up thinking it would make me feel smug and well, over-prepared. I think I was seeking a personal gold star for our preparedness.
You can imagine my shock when I learned that, according to the list, we
should have already started looking into CHILDCARE three weeks ago. I don't even have a child, how can I look into its care?
Things went downhill from there as I began to notice all the other items on the list that we hadn't really given a second thought to:
Registering for Antenatal classes - not my fault, I'm on a waiting list due to the huge pregnancy boom in england this year. Pregnancy is very fashionable, don't you know? But I haven't even found out when the freebie NHS classes are. With our luck, those will be full too and we'll be renting some video from the library called 'HELP - I'm Having a Baby'.
Handing in my MB form - I can't even get the paperwork right. My midwives won't give it to me until the day before we leave the country, so it's going to be almost a month late being handed in to my employer. Will this mess up my maternity leave? Will this jeopordize my statutory rights? Who knows.
Joining an aquanatal class - I've tried to go swimming after work, but in my neighbourhood, it's just me, my belly and about a 100 kicking, splashing little kids all in one big pool. I think it's safer to abstain. I do have a DVD at home for pregnancy yoga, which I've tried once. Perhaps it's time for a more structured exercise routine?
Some of the items on the list seem a little eager-beaver for my taste.
Doesn't it seem a little soon to pack my hospital bag at 30 weeks? That's like packing for a weekend in Venice two months before you leave - what if you need the lotion and slippers that you put in that bag in the meantime? I'd be in a constant state of unpackedness which would frustrate me more than not having packed at all.
A birth plan at 24 weeks? A touch premature. I'd like to plan my birth at a point where the child could actually survive if I gave birth to it - it just seems more optimistic. (Which is this week - yay! But alas still no birth plan).
I think I'm just finding it difficult to adjust to the fact that NOW is the time to be doing some of these things. It's as though I need the reality of a baby in front of me to make me think 'ahhhh, crib required.'
Of course, I realize that I'll have to snap out of this at some point and I think that point will be right around week 31 - when we return from our upcoming adventures in our homeland. That's right - it's home to Canada to show off the bump at our baby shower.
So you see, we can't really buy anything major until then because we're hoping to receive at least a couple of items at the shower! Anything that I could have bought that would make me feel securely prepared like a bottle sterilizer or baby nail clippers has to wait another month.
I can tell that when we get back from Canada, there will be some serious shopping trips being done - or at least some serious time spent online shopping, because by that time, I won't be able to stand longer than 20 minutes which means that Oxford Street on a Saturday is a big no-no.
Let's just hope that I don't need my birth plan before week 31...
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Kevin's thoughts:
Today I was confronted with an act of inhumanity so despicable, so appalling, so dreadfully wicked and
shameful, that I seriously considered whether it was cruel to bring a new life into such a vile and
loathesome world.
Tell me, is it fair to raise a child in a society where BANKS NO LONGER CONSIDER A JAR OF CHUMP
CHANGE TO BE REAL CURRENCY?
Can you believe it? What happened to the days when the bank was there to serve you, not the other way
around? What happened to the days when you could walk into ANY bank with a wad of dimes and walk out
with a five dollar bill, let alone your own bank? What happened to the days when banks gave you a toaster
for opening a new account, instead of just the runaround?
I don't know if we've just been out of polite society too long, or whether we just strive for a grander
ideal, but let's be honest: a bank is a bank. It's a place to put your money. That's what it's for.
And money is money: bills, cheques or change. When I come into my bank with my money, I don't expect to
be turned away because my money's too heavy. In fact, that made me doubly mad, because that backpack was
REALLY heavy, and I wan't pleased about having to lug it back to my apartment, let me tell you.
Aimee and I, like most people, have a jar of silver coins that we empty our wallets into at the end of the
week. We've done it for the past year and a half, and finally collected enough to make the jar one of the
most expensive items in the house. We'd probably amassed close to 1000 pounds (both value AND weight, I think),
and boy, how satisfying would it be to go to the bank with it, deposit it into an offshoot account for our baby's
education fund?
Turns out, it was not the least bit satisfying, thank you very much. Due to "policy" and "staff shortages" and
"time constraints", they were "very sorry" but with "the type of savings account we had" they could not be
"obligated" to accept more than five tiny pouches of sorted coins: £20 in pounds, $10 in 50p coins, etc etc.
Basically, enough to dispose of a single zipper bag, of which I was carrying about 18.
"But we phoned ahead, they told us to go to the business section and they could weigh it," said Aimee.
"Do you have a business account?"
"No."
"Then you can't do that."
"How could we change this change into bills, considering of course that you accept the fact that coins actually have value?"
"You could come back tomorrow with another five bags, and we would accept them then."
Then we're handed the catchphrase of the unresponsive: "If we do it for you, we have to do it for everybody,"
which is a phrase I hate nearly as much, "You've got too much time on your hands," but obviously for different
reasons. NO, you bloody well DON'T have to do it for everybody. Do you see any other idiots standing in your bank
with a backpack full of metal? No, just us. Everyone else has done all the paperwork for you. You just don't
want to admit that your employees can't count to 20 without pressing F3 and consulting two other tellers.
Then she gave us her "I'm really sorry I can't help you further I'd really like to but my hands are tied you
understand" face. As we walked away, shaking fists at the CCTV cameras, the lady somehow must have felt our plight.
"Do you have any children?" she asked. I pointed at Aimee's tummy. She laughed, "Too young, I'm afraid. However,
if you had one of our child's savings accounts, a child is allowed to bring in as much change as he or she wants, to
deposit into her account whenever she likes."
"Really?" I said, picturing the joy of dumping all of the change out of its sorted freezer bags into a large
bucket and giving it a good shake, then placing it in a wagon with my baby in tow for a wander up the street
to the Halifax on a busy Friday afternoon...
"Thank you very much. We'll be seeing you again... very soon."
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Did you know? |
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It's about this time that the baby may start to get hiccups brought on by her primitive chest movements, which she makes to practice her breathing techniques.
I haven't felt any yet, but Kevin is ready to scare them out of her the moment they start. BOOGA BOOGA BOOGA!
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If only I knew then... |
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This week: Stuffy Noses
Since about week 16, I've been bombarded with a contant morning head cold, with enough sneezes and sniffles to bother my most patient of husbands. My bedside table now consists of: kleenex, vitamins, water, belly lotion, and I can see heartburn medicine in my near future.
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Aimee's cravings |
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Bwah hahaha. I love the internet. I've just ordered a case of 24 cans of A&W Root Beer online from a specialty foods retailer. I am waiting by the door for them to arrive and will carefully ration them to last the remaining four months. How much did it cost for such Canadian luxuries in London? Let's just say they're priceless.
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| obligatory tummy shot |
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Everyone into the poll! |
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Two weeks ago we asked how many of you would dress your little girls in blue in public. The polls were close, but the responses passionate. This made us wonder if you would feel the same way if the roles were reversed?
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Baby's Book of the Week |
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 My Uncle is a Hunkle
By Lauren Child
Meh. Mediocre story when compared to Lauren's other books. Unimpressed by the story, but still amused by the unique illustrations mixed with photographs. By the way, don't expect to find out what a hunkle is. We've narrowed it down to 'hunk' as in good looking (he IS a fireman, after all), or maybe it's just a kid word for a silly person. Not essential to the story, but then, the story itself isn't essential to your collection.
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