Yes you read that correctly - a babymoon. What the boojesus is a babymoon you ask ? Its the holiday you take before your baby arrives. I read a few articles in some pregnancy magazines mentioning women who'd been on that last little holiday as a couple, so I mentioned it to Mr Gil and now we're off to a little place called Shelly Beach on the central coast of New South Wales ( note: NSW is the state we live in here in Australia. We only 5 , plus two territories. Big country split into biiiiiiiig sections.... ).
I'm looking forward to it - it will be the first time Mr Gil and i have gone away together, just the two of us, not to visit family..... and it will also be the last for a long time. We're only going away for a long weekend so its not a long time but i'm determined to make the most of it. Sleep ins, long lunches, time at the beach, throw in some touristy type stuff and a couple of romantic dinners and voila!
A great weekend with a great guy will make me a very happy and contented pregnant lady....
Another Weekend By The Numbers
2 - slices of chocolate Toblerone cheesecake ( made by yours truely ) that i ate on Friday night.
900 - approximate number of calories contained within those slices. My belly is growing anyway - what do i care about calories?
104 - dollars spent on maternity pants. Yes, i bought maternity clothes last weeked but you know what ? I have since discovered that my work pants no longer do up without the help of a saftey pin and my jeans just arent comfortable shoved all the way down below my hips.
45 - approximate number of minutes spent sorting, folding, and putting away the washing on Saturday afternoon. I was trying to tidy up a bit before Mr Gil's sister and brother-in-law came for a visit. They arrived just as i got to folding the underwear....
2 - movies watched this weekend: " Pride and Glory " with Edward Norton and Colin Farrell on DVD, and " My Sisters Keeper " with Cameron Diaz and Abigail Breslin at the cinema.
26 - approximate number of times i broke into tears whilst watching " My Sisters Keeper ". You should not watch a movie like that, with your mother, when you're pregnant - its just far too upsetting.
80 - minutes spent in the sunshine, watching my brothers soccer semi-final.
0 - number of goals scored by my brothers opposition. His team won the game, 2-0. Go the Wanderers!
1 - number of times i applied sunscreen before hitting the sunshine. Did i re-apply ? No. Did i get sunburnt ? Sure did. Does that suck ? Yes indeedy.
6 - number of berry and chocolate mousse parfaits i made for Sunday nights dessert - one each for Mr Gil's parents, and two for each of us! I didnt exactly tell the Mr Gil-in-laws that we had extras though - naughty me....
Domestication
My sister-in-law told me that once she got halfway through her pregnancy she couldnt stop cleaning her house. I said that that would never happen to me - anyone who knows me knows that i have an aversion to cleaning, or manic cleaning anyway. I'm happy to have my my house look " lived in " - not slovenly, but a few pairs of shoes by the front door and a pile of unfolded washing in the spare lounge chair dont faze me.
Well - not anymore. Its come as a slight suprise to me that in the past few weeks i've come across a nesting gene i didnt think i had. I dont think its because i'm pregnant though - i'm putting it down to trying to impress Mr Gil. Actually, i dont think that impress is the right word. Its just that we're living together as a couple and we're starting a family and i feel the need to keep the house tidier now. No, i'm not prescribing to feminine values of the 50's ( have his meal when he gets home ? Run him a bath ? Making sure the kids are seen and not heard ? Uh...nuh ) its just that its something i can do in the domestic partnership.
For eg - i cook most nights, so he does the dishes. If he puts a load of washing on, i hang it out. If he's outside mowing the lawn, i'll be inside cleaning the bathroom. Or whatever.
So there you have it - i've become domesticated. Like a dog. But not like a cat - thos bastards are malicious, evil little things....
Well - not anymore. Its come as a slight suprise to me that in the past few weeks i've come across a nesting gene i didnt think i had. I dont think its because i'm pregnant though - i'm putting it down to trying to impress Mr Gil. Actually, i dont think that impress is the right word. Its just that we're living together as a couple and we're starting a family and i feel the need to keep the house tidier now. No, i'm not prescribing to feminine values of the 50's ( have his meal when he gets home ? Run him a bath ? Making sure the kids are seen and not heard ? Uh...nuh ) its just that its something i can do in the domestic partnership.
For eg - i cook most nights, so he does the dishes. If he puts a load of washing on, i hang it out. If he's outside mowing the lawn, i'll be inside cleaning the bathroom. Or whatever.
So there you have it - i've become domesticated. Like a dog. But not like a cat - thos bastards are malicious, evil little things....
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