Formal, Baby Shower, and One Tiny Dose of Reality

Fruit to Fetus Comparison: The size of a rockmelon or a honeydew J

Cravings:  None. Really, I am just eating normally at the moment (it’s so hot, I don’t feel like eating at all!)

Aversions: Heat and bras. If there was a way to go bra-less without being a hippy and/or knocking people out, I would welcome it with open arms.

 

Husbands’ excitement metre:  Excitement surrounded the baby shower (well, for him it was a ‘beer shower’)

Mini-Muffin Kick-Counter:  Many! They keep getting stronger, but there are less large movements like rolling over now that she’s taking up more space! She’s upside down on a diagonal at the moment, so all the kicking (and there’s a lot of it!) is onto my bottom right ribs!

So, ready for the weekly dose of TMI?

My tummy is now so big that when I slouch, my boobs and tummy touch each other. And, to be honest, the boobs have only gone up about a cup size. I can just see myself doing the preggy waddle. The rest of me is generally the same size, just the tummy has expanded (IMMENSELY!) which is hopefully a good thing! And, sadly, stretch marks have made their way onto the scene. Well, small price to pay.

As I’m far away from my obstetrician, Dad and Mum bought me a blood-pressure monitor. I still don’t really know what the numbers mean, but if they go above 130ish I should call my doctor apparently. Dad said it should be around 110/70ish.

Thought I was dying yesterday when it said 99/50, but turns out I had the damn thing on wrong. Epic fail.

It was 40 degrees Celsius here on the weekend. FORTY!! With an average of around 34 this week, it’s going to be a scorcher. Our aircon is struggling to keep up, and I have to admit, I’m certainly feeling it. Not to mention I sweat like twelve litres a day and hardly have to go to the loo anymore (despite drinking around four litres – no joke – during the day) Gross or what. I simply cannot drink more water!!

Formal Week!

So this week was FORMAL WEEK for my twelves! They all looked gorgeous, of course, dressed up in their finery and finishing the night by Gangnam Styling. Very grown up and making me feel old! I will miss them, but it’s great to see them go their own path and grow up a bit! Some of them might find that the workplace is very different to school on how lazy you can be and get away with it. J

So I got dressed up in my expandable formal dress and (god forbid) some heels. Not massive ones. Just about three inches. No sweat, right?

REGRET!!!!!
Why did I wear the heels? TELL ME WHY!! Because I’m an idiot who constantly has to pretend that she can do everything she used to be able to do before baby started to get huge.

Stupid statements I have made over the past few weeks:

1. I can still fit around the storeroom cup board in the art room. No problems.
2. I can still sit on the carpet with the kids. Getting back up will be easy!
3. I can wear high heels and a formal dress and curl my hair and I will feel like a princess!
4. Sure, I love watching everyone drink while I’m sober. It’s awesome.
5. This disgustingly oily and capsicum topped pizza won’t come back to haunt me.
6. Pfft, stairs? What stairs? I’m awesome at stairs! Give me more stairs!

So how did these turn out, you ask?

1. I got stuck in one of the compactors and had to lever myself out with my back against one wall and knees against the other, resulting in paint and various other art room supplies getting all over my clothes.
2. Sat down with a slightly larger ‘thump’ than usual (I forgot how far away the ground was) and three (THREE!!) year tens had to help me back up again. Mortified.
3. End of night = me feeling like a ball of sweaty, blistered molasses-covered gummi bear.
4. Despite the grossness of drunk people, it can actually be kind of awesome. Hilarious things happen when drunk, and often, when you are drunk yourself, it is forgotten the next day. As the pregnant Designated Driver, I remember ALLLLLLL! *evil laugh and bribery to commence*
5. It haunted me. Oh, for the love of god, it haunted me.
6. This is the break down of Rhonie climbing stairs:

Part 1: Overconfidence: Takes five stairs quite quickly.
Part 2: Still overestimating ability despite climbing heartrate and sore legs: Takes next three stairs at a slower pace.
Part 3: Drastic reality check: Burning legs, breathing like a walrus, makes it to the top of flight of 20 stairs in just under four minutes.

So, yes, I am constantly telling myself to slow down, as is everyone else, but stubborn little me has to keep pushing up the hill like the little train that could. Well, eight days left of school and I will be forced into relaxing.

BABY SHOWER!!

Second part of the week (well, day after formal) BABY SHOWER DAY!

Made special by three lovely ladies – Maddi Simons, Stacy Condell and Lynesha Stainer – who organised, cooked and crafted their way into a beautiful baby shower (despite the 40 degree heat and the copious amount of flies that decided to join us for the day!).

One of Stacy's Delicious Dishes!

The Gorgeous Kath doing some Scrapbooking at the station Lynesha set up.

The enormous and delicious chocolate cake ordered by Maddi!

Cake Cutting Time!

A small portion of the AMAZING, generous gifts from the lovely ladies!

 

Some of the Onesies made by my talented friends! (Lynesha, Yanah, Emily, Ebony & Ella's feet!, Ruth's beautiful rainbow!)

 

 Stunning Quilt made by Kath :)

It was simply gorgeous! Lots of rushing around to get ready (we ran a little late with our decorating and games and photos but generally got back on track!). The day was made up by around sixteen lovely ladies, several party games, lots of onesie decorating, due-date guessing and name-suggesting,  and NAPPY RACES.

It was wonderful J Muffin and I were so spoiled by the lovely people who came, and the beautiful gifts we were given! She will by far be the best dressed baby with the most gorgeous room everrrrr! Thank you to all the lovely ladies (and families) who gave us generous gifts J

Basically, the afternoon was simply lovely! We feel so blessed to have you in our lives!

Afterwards we retired for a rest (after packing away) and chilled downstairs with a glass of wine (not me – Carolyn and Maddi!)

 

After such a huge weekend, it’s taken me a few days to recover! I’m still putting away presents and nappies (in total, I think we received over four hundred nappies from the nappy tower!) and finishing washing up, vacuuming and all the other jobs that didn’t get done on the weekend!

So now it’s time to focus on our house (the slab got poured on Friday!) and work for the final two weeks! Then it’s to the coast for chilling out, maybe some sewing, active birthing classes and, eventually, if we can fit it in, actually having a baby!

Whew! Exhaustion! But it was well worth it! Fabulous Week 34!

Love to everyone involved! YOU ARE ALL AMAZING!!

xxx

How to tell your students you are 'With Child', and get out alive.

Mini-Muffin Journal – Week Eight
 

Week of Pregnancy: 8
Craving: Lentils and refried beans. (Can anyone say 'protein'?)

Aversions: Chicken and red meat. Hold on... I'm seeing a link...

General feeling: Bloated and fat, but still attempting to look hot underneath it all... and failing miserably. Also nauseous. Very nauseous.
Husband's excitement rating: Slightly less non-chalaunt than usual. Slightly more peeved about lack of intimacy and sudden 'washing up' aversion that pregnancy has given me... *cough cough*.

How to tell your students you are 'With Child', and get out alive!

So yesterday and today I broke our mini-muffin news to my classes. 161 high-school kids. It started with my grade 12 class, and went something like this;

"So, guys, exciting news! I'm going to have a baby at the end of the year!"

Then silence. Awkward silence. Then:

"O-M-G Miss! I totally knew you were up the duff!"

Thank you for your eloquence, Misty.

"You are gonna be soooo fat for Formal, Miss!"

Grazi for your sensitivity, Jazmine.

 And the onslaught continued throughout the day;

"Does this mean you're not going to be around for Graduation?", "But what if we get a crappy teacher?", "Do you get away with stuff just by saying you're preggers?","Lucky your classroom's on the bottom floor, Miss, you're gonna have trouble getting up stairs!"

Thanks, everyone, for your support. One grade 12 boy asked;

"Who's the dad?"

"My husband."

"Aren't you a bit young to get married, Miss?"

"Uh... well I'm old enough to have a baby."

"...That doesn't mean much."

True, that. True, that.

One Grade 9 class applauded upon receiving the news. Why, thank you children, for acknowledging my amazing fertility skills! I truly feel appreciated! No, really, who gets applauded for having sex? (Except for occasionally applauding oneself and partner after a particularly steamy event) But of course the kids don't link sex and babies - thank God! Who wants to envision their gross old teacher (26 and truly a decrepit old prune) in the throes of passion with her husband. Not me at that age, for sure, so of course, their minds more closely consider the Stork, the Pumpkin Patch, and immaculate conception.

Also, after the news was broken, people started to treat me as though I may break on impact. They courteously walked around me instead of into me, suggested I don't lift anything, and fed me lunch. Yes, they fed me. As usual, I was busy at lunch time in the art room helping kids finish their work, and instead of simply sitting by and watching, they offered me a variety of sumptuous delights. A slightly soggy sandwich here, a half eaten bag of chips there, a lollipop. Not the most nutritious, but it felt rude to say no when they were so insistent.

Finally, the icing on the cake, my Multi-Arts grade 12 class.

1. In fourth period, they brought me a list of baby names (including their own, strategically placed in the 'girl' or 'boy' lists alongside other names to ensure I didn't notice) and asked me to circle the ones I liked so they could take bets.

2. Discussed the prospect of pooping yourself when giving birth. Thanks guys, feeling the support and love right now.

3. Asked if they could babysit, and whether I would bring the kid in for visits. I reminded them that they wouldn't be here next year, so probably not. They seemed genuinely sad, so to pep them up I said they could call me 'walrus' when I got to seven months.

The hardest part was discussing why I hadn't told them earlier. Sigh. Two reasons, the first being more prevalent than the second;

- Firstly, Nobody knows how a pregnancy will turn out. First hand experience tells me it's not always going to be rosy. The less people that know at the beginning (this time, not an option unfortunately due to later explained circumstances) the easier it is if there is a problem, or if a pregnancy doesn't work out. These kids would not understand the heart-ache that comes with a miscarriage, as none of them (as far as I know!) have experienced it yet. As statistics show, 1 in 5 will experience it, but I hope to put it off as long as possible before they have to face that kind of thing.

- And secondly, I don't share EVERYTHING with you, kiddies! Love ya, do everything I can to help you, encourage you and support you, but don't expect me to share my ovulation dates with you! Possibly (in fact, most definitely!) crossing the line! We already tread a thin line in the 'arts sector' where kids desperately want to deal with things that, according to our code of conduct, should be discussed with a counsellor or school nurse. Depression, sex, anxiety, abusive families... the arts deal with these things all the time because we personally know our kids through their works (even if they think they're being subtle), and we read their Visual Diaries (which they often over-share in themselves!) Not to mention everything is shared on Facebook these days, and spreads around a small town like ants on an iceblock in summer.

So, yes, there are reasons I didn't tell you the moment the test said 'pregnant - 3+ weeks', and no, I wasn't going to leave you in the dark until I went into labour. You just have to trust me, and be happy and supportive as I would always be for you. Also, don't ask me to give up my carrot sticks, they're to stop me spewing and I've already given up caffeine and alcohol (two vital allies for a teacher in a small town).

So, all in all, quite a fabulous reaction to the Mini-Muffin news. Only an eight-week-old embryo and already beloved (and potentially named) by over a hundred and fifty kids, plus many adults. Being a teacher may come at a price (sleepless nights of marking, not allowed to strangle kids, etc) but it's pretty worth it for the love you get back.

Peace.