Blog a little, Blog a lot.

After weeks of neglect, now I fear my keyboard may go on strike for better hours. However, writing here has gotta be better than fighting with the Fella!

Eventful week, America has a Black President who's pro gay marriage. I'm in shock, good shock. His acceptance speech was amazing and I love the fact that his first promise as the 'most powerful man in the world' was a puppy for the kids!! Jessie Jackson in the crowd started me crying. Can we have Obama when America's done????

More personally, the Fella's heading down this evening for one night only, not unfortunately to celebrate Bonfire night and watch the fireworks but because tomorrow I get my first scan. Excited? I think terrified or confused would be more apt. The appointments at 9.25 and I've got to drink a pint of water an hour before and not pee, do these people know I'm pregnant?? I've got a morning routine; get up, pee, boil kettle but don't yet make tea as it's time for a little light vomiting. Make tea and whatever breakfast takes may fancy, put it to one side, pee. Eat breakfast, pee, shower, pee you get the drift, I am a leaky watering can. They want me not to 'empty my bladder' for an hour???? It also occurs to me, and I realise the unlikeliness of this scenario, but I never skimp on things to worry about, what if all they can see is my half digested Weetabix in there? Amusing, yes, but I don't want the Fella to think he's got to add milk to the Peanut!

Which links neatly into the next set of worries, the Peanut! What if the scan shows something wrong with it? Or worse what if it's got it's Dad's ears, I know it's only 85mm long, but they might show up. How about the possibility of Peanut actually Peanuts, or Mixed Nuts if you will. There's a history of multiple conceptions on both sides, but they don't end well, and I don't have the best history of fetus staying in utro either!

The receptionist, bet you never thought I could find a problem with that! We've not made the situation public yet, or informed the family's, partly because I'm worried about history repeating itself and partly because I want my Nan and Gramps (who brought me up) to be the first to know and they're toddling round France or Spain in the Camper Van till the end of the month. So with the secrecy finding out who the receptionist was, was not great. He's an old drinking friend of mine, I went to school with his brother whom I'm still in touch with and is a housemate of another friend (she's a month of blogs in her own right), who works with the Fella's sister. One phone call, or drunken slip up and the cat is well and truly out of the bag. Receptionist is not one of the more discreet people I know!

But I do get to see the Fella, and watch his face go a funny colour when he realises Peanut's coming, ready or not!

Oh god I need to shave my legs!