I need to tell you something…

I had intentions to pop photos from the family Bali adventure here last week – but its been a horrendous and thought provoking fortnight to say the least.

before leaving for Bali (like, the DAY before) Mr A and i discovered that i was a few weeks pregnant. We were so happy – seriously; Mr A cannot wait to be a dad! And whilst there was a part of me that was like “oh my GOD – i am now TOTALLY an adult!!” i was gracious and loving the thought that Mr A and i would be bringing a child into this world. we started planning, hoping and loving….

And then when we returned and i went back to work everything started getting back to normal – i hated that i could see that i was beginning to gain weight (read: my skinny leg jeans were beginning to show a slight muffin top!) but that it was not obviously a baby belly (yet); we told the family and friends – we booked our first ultrasound to hear the heartbeat on my birthday – as that was scheduled to be our 12th week….

on the tuesday before my birthday (10 may) at 4.15am Mr A rushed me to hospital… because i was miscarrying.

i had thought about not telling you all – as though none of this had happened at all… but i can’t do it. i am not one for denial – maybe i am built that way because all my mum does IS deny things that upset her… but i am different – i always have been one to look the pain, the sorrow and frustration in the eye and then build from there… that through sorrow comes adversity

it has been the most painful experience i have ever been through in my life – in more ways than one. The bleeding is beyond anything i could have ever imagined… the pain and above all the fear – the fear that i had this beautiful life inside of me that i was falling inlove with, that was a part of me and a part of Mr A – that we had helped to create was leaving me… that everything, every painful millisecond was far, far from my control.

Even as i type this i am humbled by the experience – we were hoping to start a family this year but even we did not anticipate that it would happen so soon… it is said that Allah only gives us the challenges that he knows that we can endure – we will be ok inshallah

i am SO grateful to Mr A – to his parents; his mum came to visit me at the hospital before i went into surgery for my DNC. For Mr A being a star and not leaving my side through each and every moment – i cannot imagine how he felt watching it all… an then taking me home only to have to call an ambulance to get me back to hospital because i had passed out bleeding on the bathroom floor… i am beyond grateful that i have him in my life.

i felt i needed to tell you – that while i have some readers that comment and others that don’t; i feel in some ways that i had some obligation to tell you what’s been happening… so that’s that then…. onward and upward?

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What’s in a name? Baby Names 101

There is a point where enough is enough is ENOUGH already! Where nurses/doctors/midwives have an obligation to newborns and their future development and assimilation into society and NEED to tell parents that some things ARE NOT A NAME!

In the last few weeks I have been receiving details regarding actual childrens names that make me wonder if people are signing birth details for their children far too soon before the effects of epidural or drugs have worn off.

I mean; whatever one might want to say about Muslims, Wogs, Desi’s, brown people or ethnics at least we give our children REAL names – names that mean something; whether its religiously or culturally; they are names that stand the test of decades; passed down generation to generation.

The following names are ones that have been seen on a birth certificate in the last month!

Strawberry (apparently it’s a female name)

Butterfly (another female name – but wait her middle name is just as maddening – Indigo!!!)

Peetree-nella (yep – her first name has a hyphen in it!!!)

Virtue (hmm – I wonder if these parents are being hopeful that by calling their daughter ‘Virtue’ that she will have some?)

Kyeesha, Sharnell and Mayeelia – this ONLY works if you are from the ghetto or wish to remember your ghetto ‘ancestry’ it does NOT work when you are Caucasian and NOT from the Bronx/Ghetto! And don’t EVEN get me started on the fact that these 3 children are SIBLINGS!

Do these people not realise that whilst famous people can name their children after inanimate objects that this is primarily because they are famous and therefore have LOTS OF MONEY and therefore will not be entirely scarred for life! I mean think about it; Apple might be a pretty crap name for a child but at the end of the day that kid can say that her mum is Gwyneth Paltrow… push comes to shove she can at least hire a hit-man to pay off the bully at school!

I mean seriously – what is wrong with good old fashioned names like John, Matthew, Allan, Mohammed, Jason and Ali? Hmmm? What so absurd about Miguel, Michael or Abraham/Ibrahim – obviously nothing to a lot of people… BUT then there are others that I seriously wonder about…  Do these parents forget that their child will have this name FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIFE? Have they forgotten how mean/creul and unfeeling other children in the playground at school can be? These parents may think its a great ideal to call their child Danielle but then decide to spell it Daniieyle – what is UP with that?

So – any odd names that you’ve heard of lately?

I think I gained a size – from Sunday alone!

Oh my lord – I am still full from yesterday!

 

Overall I must say that although I am glad that the weekend is over and another work week is upon me there is another part of me that did have a rather good time over the weekend just gone!

 

First let me tell you all that I have eat far, FAR too much!

 

Yesterday post-christening was feastful! Off we went to this restaurant for lunch – only after copious photos were had of baby in christening gown where Mr A watched on in silence just smiling to ourselves… Mr A made attempts to get us out of going to the event all together under the guise that since our future children wouldn’t be involved in any sort of christening procedure that we shouldn’t be enforced to go! Haha – good shot but we ALL knew it was more about him preferring to go to the football game early that afternoon!

 

I must say though that the food was good! Out came the antipasto (I had some feta, olives and some marinated eggplant but the rest was not allowable food for me). Midway through that came garlic bread then fresh wood fire oven pizza’s (Margarita). After that was the salt and pepper squid with this deliciously creamy tar tare sauce you knew must be freshly made and therefore terrible for your cholesterol! Then came our mains (seriously – by this point I think there was little room in my belly for it!); but like a trooper I ate each and every morsel of that Swordfish with garlic mash topped with prawns and this delicious red cream sauce (*drool*). Then came dessert – a huge croquembouche (think tower of profiterole with toffee strands all around it) was served for us all to fawn at and then was quickly whisked away to be served in bowls (so we got a few each) topped with a delectable oozing chocolate sauce.

 

You think that’s all don’t you? You think that after that that was our full series of courses… HA! After about 20minutes when I was beginning to think that things were over and we were on the home-front out came the little goblets of gelato… oh my lord! And then there was even discussions about possible coffee and for the rest of the people to have liqueurs!! Thankfully Mr A didn’t stick around for all of that and Mr A go to watch the final half of the footy (I did have to ‘gun it’ there but it was more than worth him getting to watch his team defeat ‘some other team’…)

 

Meanwhile Mr A’s nonna spent the day with a wistful look on her face and made comments to me, Mr A and his parents about us hurrying up and getting hitched so we can make bambino’s!

 

Eeeekkk!!

 

FYI: whilst we were feasting on the numerous courses said baby had formula milk and then slept the rest of the time!

Tired just thinking about it

Well peeps – it’s Friday; the weekend is imminent and I for one will be glad once its over! Just thinking about what we’ve got planned this weekend has been exhausted. Tonight after work I am off with Mr A to help him find some new pants that he needs to match these new shoes he bought that in turn match the dress that I am wearing. This weekend we have: a wedding + reception to go to, Greek Easter and then on the Sunday we have his cousin’s baby’s christening to go to.

 

Before someone/anyone gets on my case about being a Muslim going to a christening and the whole ‘haram’ it may be let me say this: our beloved prophet preached respecting our fellow people of the book – if any of you want to throw down the gauntlet and request for examples or lament in opposition I am more than happy to read and respond to your comments… but I warn you – don’t get me started! Mr A’s parents and family isn’t Muslim but their still family and they more than accommodate and respect for the Muslim ideologies that have been introduced and implemented into their households. I could go on about this as I am more than a little passionate about this issue of religious harmony and cohabitation but will leave here for the sake of getting to the crust of the intention of this post.

 

SO, about the christening – I haven’t been to many (read: 1) so I think it’s safe to assume that I don’t have hordes of knowledge on the matter. But from what I’ve heard + the one that I went to its pretty much a church thing then back to the parents place for finger food.

 

Mr A’s cousin (the mother of the baby to be christened) is going seriously all out for this 3 month old. First (in the morning) is the christening at the Roman Catholic (well, they are Italians!) church (which I don’t have to go to…yay!) where said lil boy will be wearing the lil christening dress and dunked in water – I have no doubt that crying will be loud and constant post ‘dunking’!

 

Then we have an early lunch that is meant to go for ages. When I spoke to said cousin on Sunday she told me that each table will have a platter of salt & pepper squid for appetisers (oh my lord – how many people on each table and how many tables are there really going to be???) which is when the waiters will take our choices for the main meal (what the??? Is this normal??) Which is a choice of either freshly made Gnocchi or rib-eye steak or a swordfish dish. After that we have the option of either tiramisu or some other dessert which as of Sunday seemed like would be gelato. Does anyone else besides Mr A and I see that this is madness – its for a baby who is 3 months for goodness sake! We’re getting this feast while he gets milk…. And its formula at that!

 

More and more I (as well as Mr A) am seeing that this little boy is going to grow up a whiny brat who will cry and throw tantrums to get what he wants (as it’s working already and he’s only 3 months old)!

 

At lunch on Sunday every time so much as a peep was heard on the baby monitor his mum would get up and check on him. at one point for a good 40 minutes the only female at the table was me as all other females (baby’s mother, her sister, the baby’s grandmother, Mr A’s mum and another aunty) were in the nursery trying to calm him down… when I asked what the frig was wrong with him (besides being molly-coddled to death)  the baby’s dad (who wasn’t worried at all) said that he (the baby) was all grumpy because he hadn’t done a poo all day!

 

OH MY GOD! I felt like getting up into that nursery and telling them to leave him alone – none of their actions are going to make him take a dump! When Maria (baby’s mother) did finally come down I asked how she got the baby to sleep “oh, I had to rock him in my arms until he fell asleep”!!!!

 

The funniest answer came from Mr A’s mother when I lamented to her that all this ‘fussing’ was actually not good for the baby and his long term development (gee – developmental psych much?): “well, my grandchild won’t be like that!”

 

Sheesh…. I can honestly say that Mr A and I are more than excited when the weekend comes to a close!

 

I never thought I’d see the day when I’d say this but bring on Monday!

Because some men are gluttons for punishment too

I am amazed how some people make the same mistakes over and over (and over and over again)! We’ve mentioned Carly now lets flip it to the boys – I must address Mr A’s friend who he has managed to build some distance (read: breathing space) from because of said constant behaviour!

 

Mr A’s friend:

Max is a strange, strange fellow. I cannot remember if I have mentioned him before – but once upon a time he was in a lovely loving relationship with a Chilean woman (Max’s background: he’s Australian, but his parents are Brazilian). They’d been together for a lil while and then moved in together… her parents had lived here in Australis some time ago but had then moved back to Chile; anyway something or another happened and they (her parents) decided to move back to Australia. She lamented that they didn’t have house to stay in – he (being an idiot, naïve sweet and innocent soul) said “oh – I have an investment property that actually doesn’t have any tenants in it – they can live in that?”

 

So in they moved into his house… he (being an idiotic, naïve sweet and innocent soul) paid their bills (because as she said “oohh, they don’t work and the pension really doesn’t cover much… boo-hoo). Max and this chicky got engaged… she started sleeping around. After her parents had been around about a year-ish she tells young Maximus that she needs space. That she can’t be with him anymore and that he is smothering her (did I mention that Max works on the mines and is on a four weeks on, 1 week off rotation?) so she left and moved into her parents house (is anyone else sensing the oddity of this??? I mean her parent’s house is max’s house!!). This gal then discovers she is ‘with child’ oopsie!

 

Max finds out from friends that his ex-fiancé was a little slutty whore and was scoffing down quite a few enchiladas (if you know what I mean *wink, wink*) – some of the owners of said ‘enchiladas’ gloated advised that she really enjoyed ‘eating’ numerous enchiladas…  said girl then goes to Max and tells him that he is gonna be a daddy – Max states that perhaps this taco isn’t his; she cries and says that it is definitely his – that she would not lie to him (????)… what does max do? He (being an idiotic, naïve sweet and innocent soul) believes her – I mean, its not like she’s ever lied to him at all right?

 

She proceeds to rob him of said property that her parents live in (“you can’t throw our child’s grandparents on the street can you?”), getting a lawyer and then going to court to get that house signed over into her parents name – did i mention that max paid the legal fees?? Before you think “its ok – Max has another property, he’ll be fine” think again folks, said property that she and max lived in gets split in half (obviously not literally) and she ends up with half that house and the assets in them – oh and he’s paying child support for a kid that may or may not be his! Gotta admit – how awesome is that lawyer at his job???

 

 

The result is that Max has become a needy man – a man who laments at every opportunity about how woman have screwed him over, broken his heart – when all he has ever, ever wanted is a woman he can love with ‘all that he is’ (his words)!  He has become a man who cries at parties and will make you feel uncomfortable with his sadness…  but he will not learn from his mistakes… he insists on doing the same thing over and over again (the girlfriend before the ex-fiancé got her hands on a hot brand new V8!)… Need proof? Yes – there’s more!