Countdown to 2006

My god, what a year this has been for me. If someone had told me that I would be worlds different (physically and mentally) than where I was last year, I'd have laughed at them. If someone had told me that in just 7 short weeks I'd be a parent, I would have laughed so hard my lungs would have exploded. If I had been told I would be over-the-moon deliriously happy, I'd have asked for the same drugs they were on.

In short, this past year has literally been THE BEST YEAR OF MY LIFE.

On the 26th of December last year, I broke away from a very unhealthy relationship that had been dragging on for close to 10 years. The last 5 of those years were spent trying to exist day to day without upsetting a very delicate balance in the house I lived in. That "relationship", while tumultuous at best, added up to a collective 5 years as us being an actual couple, while the remaining 5 years saw us as simply roommates - roommates who did not work well together.

We had some good times in those 10 years we shared. Sometimes the "good days" spanned a week or two, but mostly they were just brief glimpses of what should have been.

I tried so hard to make it work, to give him what he wanted, to show him the affection he deserved. At the time I thought maybe something was wrong with me, that I hated men (due to my Father - an entirely different post) and wasn't able to give or receive love freely. As it turns out, that's not quite the case, and it was only because I did not love him, that I could not give him the things he wanted from me.

It was a very hard, bordering on traumatic, breakup; not only because I knew for the remaining month I was there that he would make life very difficult, but because I had shared ten years of my life with this man and despite everything going on inside of me, he was familiar. The whole scenario was familiar. Part of me did not want to let it go and say goodbye; not just because of him, but because I knew I'd be coming back to Australia, and leaving my American life - all of my friends and workmates, and everything that had been my home for so long - behind. I almost couldn't do it.

But I did. And it was only out of one solid friendship from someone who lived in another country, that I managed to hang onto the very last shred of hope I had, the very last piece of strength that was in my body, to actually get up and walk away. He kept me strong, he kept me sane and he kept me focused. Without him, I know I would not have come through it all as well as I did.

"Come and see me before you go," he said. "I'll pay for your flight."

Of course, I didn't let him pay for the flight, but I did go and see him. It was all pre-arranged, our meeting; he was going to pick me up at Toronto International airport, and I'd spend a week with him: a glorious week of having nothing but lots of alcohol and lots of sex. That was the plan. He was going to show me around his amazingly beautiful city, take me out clubbing and dancing and basically try and cram in so many years of fun in one week. We had agreed that because I'd just gotten out of a relationship (at least physically, I'd mentally left it years prior) that nothing else would take place. There would be no talk of deep love or commitment. I wanted time to myself, to reconnect and find myself again.

As it turns out, I was never lost to begin with. I was always there - stifled for so long, but there. And while I flew to Canada for a rather expensive booty-call, things did not turn out quite the way we had intended.

My one week stay turned into three months. He knew within 2 weeks of me being there that he was in love with me, and wanted to marry me. In that 2 week period, I was still mourning the loss of a ten year situation, not ready for anything else, and fighting the feelings I had that were very quickly building up inside of me. I knew he was The One, my eternal love, my soulmate. And the internal fight hastened; It's too soon, You need time to recover, You don't want him being your rebound guy...

As the days progressed, we found more and more that we had so much in common, that we could reach each others minds, that we knew instinctively that this was right. Finally, I gave up the fight with myself, and realized the only reason I was fighting it so much was because of how other people would see it, how they would react, what they would think. And then I distinctly remember thinking, Fuck it. We only live once and I'm going for it. Right or wrong, I'm going for it.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have never looked back. I have never regretted my decision. I have never had the thought of, "Shit, it was far too soon." I've never thought about cheating on him and I've not so much as looked at another guy and thought, "Oh yeah baby, if I were single..."

Come January 28th, D and I will have been together for an entire year, even though we have known each other for going on six years total. He is the love of my life, the light of my life and the strength, hope and courage I hold close to me every single day of my life. While I know I can breathe without him, I don't want to. I cannot begin to describe the overwhelming happiness he brings out in me, or the rich, powerful love he makes me feel.

For the longest time, I questioned my happiness (which some of you will remember), wondering if it was true (because things that often seem too good to be true, usually are?) wondering if I was allowed to be so happy after so many years of unhappiness. I was constantly told "Yes you're allowed to be this happy! You deserve it!" but did I believe that? Not for a long, long time. We both thought we had to be careful lest we "jinx" it. We had both been unhappy for so long, so lonely and sad that neither one of us wanted to do anything or say anything that might ruin what we had.

I should point out that in the first 3 months of my 10 year situation, that man and I had more fights and arguments than D and I have had in an entire year. I was humiliated, privately as well as publicly, and made to feel as insignificant as the rock caught between the treads of your shoe. Although, the rock would have gotten more of a reaction.

D and I have had maybe one real fight, and no more than maybe a small handful of arguments. We know each other so well, we feed off of each other, we know when to back down and give the other some space and room to cool off. That's only one of the hundreds of things I love about him. He knows when to let me be. He doesn't shout at me, or shriek at me, or call me names or humiliate me. He gives me the freedom to be who I am, and he absolutely loves every single cell that makes up my mind and body. He thinks I am perfect, and I think the same of him. We connect.

So, as I sit here now, in my overbearingly hot native homeland of Australia, with my stomache swollen with life who will grace us with her presence in about 7 weeks time, my fiance at work in his airconditioned office, I can look back on this year that I've spent with him and know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I have never in my life been so happy or so in love. And I know it's only going to get better, if that's possible.

Here's to you, my love. May 2006 be as wonderful, if not more, than 2005.

And goodbye to 2005 - thank you for allowing me to have one hell of a ride!

So Much Present-y Goodness!

I feel like I've done so well this year in the present department, and that's probably because I have. Seriously. D and I set a budget for ourselves this year and vowed we would not go over it. We each had a set dollar amount we could spend on each other and while I thought it was generous (in the beginning), I quickly realized how pitiful it actually was and we both ended up over-spending; him alot moreso than me.

So, without any further ado, I'll rattle off all of my presents (or try to!).

From D
* Microsoft Ergonomic Keyboard (black)
* Teac 21" TV/DVD combo unit
* Revlon Holiday Makeup Kit + Travelling Case
* Russ Plushy Cow
* Russ Plushy Elephant
* Plushy Piglet
* The Simpsons Season 3
* "Simply Bill" recipe book by Bill Granger
* Vodafone v360 cellphone
* Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince
* 3 boxes Lindt Chocolate
* Me, Myself & Irene dvd (which I'm exchanging)
* Black mousepad

From Mamala
* Toy kitty whose stomache goes up and down when batteries are plugged in
* Sterling Silver pink shell necklace
* Sterling Silver blue topaz toe ring

From Brother M
* Hot Shots 1 and 2 dvd

From Brother G
* The Matrix Trilogy dvd

From Tia
* Sterling Silver "Big Sis" pendant
* Sterling Silver Chain
* Me, Myself and Irene dvd

I know I'm probably forgetting stuff, but that's really all I can remember at this point. It's amazing I managed to remember that much, honestly. These days my brain is getting more and more shot (love you little parasite) which I think might also have something to do with the heat.

It's so stinking hot today, as it was yesterday but at least we had a little bit of cool breeze coming off the ocean at Mamala's. Here we don't have that luxury, but we do have a fan I've been parked in front of since we've come home, which has helped immensely. Well, that and the fact that the new TV came with a remote control so I don't have to get up and down off the couch anymore to change channels!! I didn't realize how much I missed having a tv remote (which I know sounds really sad and pathetic) until I didn't have one anymore but now do again.

Also, my throat is still wicked sore, and I'm still coughing, though not as much, and if it's not gone by Friday then when I go in to chat with my midwife, I'll see if she can do anything for me. It just seems too unusual to have a sore throat and chesty cough for almost 3 weeks now, though I understand something is going around...

And also I found out on the Friday just gone that my darling little parasite has the hiccups. I'd noticed this funky little pulsing movement before, but had no idea what the hell it was, until Mamala had her hand on my lower stomache, felt them for a bit and promptly told me that yes, indeed those are hiccups.

Since then, she's been hiccuping alot. Does that mean I need to drink more water? Or hold my breath more?

* * MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! * *

Merry Christmas everyone!! I hope all of you got what you wanted, and even more that you want what you've got.

I'm off to Mamala's for the day, and possibly until Boxing Day tomorrow, depending on the amount of alcohol that's consumed (by D, not me so much) but I'll be sure to come back and rattle off everything I scored this year.

Hope you all eat until bursting, sleep for abit, and then come back and eat some more!! Have a FANTASTIC DAY!!!!

'Twas the Night Before Christmas and all Through the House...

...All you can hear is me coughing, mixed with the sounds radiating from D's laptop. Even though we had our biweekly checkup at the Dr. yesterday, I mentioned my sore throat to him but failed to mention my deep, raspy, lung-expelling cough and as a result, have been coughing to no end and suffering with a sore, dry and itchy throat. At least he did look at my throat, but proclaimed nothing wrong with me, and sent me toddling about my way.

The baby is doing wonderfully. My uterus is about 33cm long now, and he listened to the heartbeat once again, although I only heard the placental swish. He's not nearly as thorough as my midwife, and I'm of two minds about this. On one hand, he probably knows what he's doing, being that he has two girls of his own, so he probably feels he doesn't need to be as thorough as my midwives, but on the other hand I feel like maybe he should be just a tad more interested. At least pretend, anyway.

We did end up speaking about my due date, though. The ladies at the hospital are more inclined to go with the EDD brought forth from my last period, which puts me at February 11th for delivery, instead of going with the ultrasound date of February 21st. Right in the beginning I thought this would be the best option anyway, going by the last period date, since that's just normally how things are calculated, but my Dr. thought that we should use the ultrasound date because evidently that was more accurate.

With that in mind, it has seemed all throughout my pregnancy that I've been "a little ahead of schedule" if we were going to stick with February 21st. It seems that my uterus size is right on target for a child due on February 11th, thus no longer making me "a little ahead of schedule" but "right on time".

Well, duh.

I don't mean to tell you how to do your job, Doc, but feel free to listen to me next time when I say, "Yes my period dates are accurate, yes I'm sure that was the first day of the last one, and no, I have no idea why I would have 2 false negative home pregnancy tests."

Anyway. It's the night before Christmas, and both D and I are terribly excited about it. We're going down to Mamalas early, and my older brother is making his famous waffles for breakfast (good god they're soooooo yummy) and we have enough food to literally drown (or suffocate) a small village. I can't wait! And yes, I'm terribly excited about opening up my presents, since D finished up his shopping for me yesterday and now almost all of his presents are sitting happily under the tree, thereby making it looking alot more full and rather festive. Part of me wants to tear into them now and rip them open, but a bigger part of me (more of the child part of me) is restraining the adult part of me with a huge amount of excitement and glee and general Christmas Spirit.

You can wait one more sleep, e!

Dreaming of ... Spiders Feasting?

I think I've decided that it's just because I'm pregnant that I'm having such weird dreams lately.

Again I woke up this morning after living through some freak thing in my head, but this time it mostly had things to do with makeup and the lack thereof, and how I couldn't get this one particular foundation I wanted (it was so light and smooth it felt like you were wearing nothing at all), and for some ungodly reason I had to go into some dressing room (read: a vertical box with a curtain over it) and get undressed to put this makeup on, but it was so worth it, except by the time I'd done all that and realized I wanted this foundation and lots of it, there was none left and the girl at the store had no idea when they'd be getting more in.

I have no idea what type of store it was either. All the makeup I was looking through were in handbags that were placed neatly on rows of shelves that were staggered throughout the store. Some things were left by themselves on the shelves, things like lotions and perfumes and such, but mostly all of the makeup was inside handbags, and only specific handbags at that.

I was looking through a particularly pink handbag, trying to find the foundation I so desperately wanted, when Mamala moseyed by and thrust a tube of something at me.

"Here," she says. "Try that."

It wasn't even foundation and I didn't want to try it, but I took it anyway and glanced skeptically at the tube, reading. I think I might have been reading ingredients or "How to Use" instructions, I'm not sure. But I do know that whatever it was I was holding, I wasn't interested in using. Quite possibly it was face moisturizer that was tinted since I recall the tube itself actually looked like the colour of the foundation I wanted.

So, I woke up and toddled off to the loo and as I came back to crawl back into bed beside my softly sleeping Canadian, I realized there was a brownish lump on my otherwise steel-grey carpet. I cocked my head and looked at it, curiously I might add, while squinting, trying to determine what this brownish lump actually was. It didn't seem to be moving all that well, and in the near darkness of the room (it was roughly 430am, and the sun was just beginning to bank) I couldn't tell what the hell it was.

"What are you doing babes?" came the muffled mumble of a sleepy man.

"There's something on the carpet," I said. "I don't know what it is."

"Let's see," he says, fully awake now, and comes around to my side, squats down, squints for a few minutes. Then he stands up and proclaims, "It's a spider."

"A spider?"

"Yeah. I'll get the mortein," he says and wanders out into the kitchen.

Meanwhile, I'm still sitting on the side of the bed (in just my unders because it was so freaking hot last night) still squinting and trying to see what the hell this brownish blob actually was. It wasn't that I disbelieved him, it was more like I wanted to see for myself what it was.

"What kind of spider do you think it is?" he asks, walking back into the room, the dawning sunlight dancing across his rippling shoulder muscles.

"I donno," I said. "I can't even see it." Squint, squint, squint. (Somehow I always think that squinting is going to actually HELP me see better but really, it doesn't, unless you're looking directly at the sun) "Turn on the light?"

Quietly and still wielding his can of mortein, he walks over to the wall and flips the light, (I squint some more) and meanders back, crouching down.

"Hmm," I murmur. "Looks like a Huntsman."

"Does it?"

"Yeah a little."

"Sorry spider," he says, preparing to spray.

"What's it doing?" I ask.

"Um," he pauses. "Looks like it's eating."

"Eating what?"

"A cockroach I think. Or maybe a grasshopper."

"Get your camera."

In hindsight, I think spraying this spider during a feed was probably the wrong thing to do. Somehow, now looking back on it, it seems a cruel and unusual punishment for a little being who was just hungry enough to come down off the wall or ceiling and feast on my bedroom carpet. I'm really sorry Charlotte.

It turns out that Charlotte had been feasting a moth, for which I now feel even worse over making D kill her. (Though in my defense, I didn't make him kill her, he volunteered) We've been having quite a moth problem for the last month or so, and we've yet to figure out a way to stop them coming back. Well. After this morning's little effort, I think I now know the way to stop them coming back... Only if we can manage to stop killing them.

The Icecream Man

Sounds abit foreboding, doesn't it? Like something Stephen King would write about, kind of like The Library Cops. Twisted story, that one.

Anyway, the icecream man just drove by in his little truck, playing his very warped music. Part of me wishes I'd run out there and bought up his stock, with all the cash I have on me, because I'm so very hot today. But you see, the more practical side of me is ever so glad I didn't, because really, who spends $70 on icecream?

* * Merry Christmas * *

I'm in the mood to be merry, so merry I shall be! It's a gorgeous day today, though already too warm for me and it's only going to get warmer, and probably to the overly-uncomfortable level. But we only have FOUR sleeps until Christmas Day and I am too excited about it.

It's my first Christmas with D, and I can't wait to wake up next to him and plant kisses all over his face and give him huge hugs and whisper how much I love him before we dive out of bed (not that I will be doing too much diving, you understand) and race into the lounge room (not that I will actually race, mind you) to unwrap our presents. I almost feel like a kid again and I'm LOVING it. If this is how I feel now, I can only imagine what it's going to be like when we have the baby next year, because by then she'll be about 10 months old. Good god, I'm going to have to really curb my spending next year - I can already foresee buying a whole bunch of things she won't even want.

But I digress. It's Christmas time, and I'm with everyone I love deeply and I'm back home and there's just NOTHING better than this! So, Merry Christmas and a Happy Hannukah and for those of you with bizarre religious beliefs or celebrate some other weird and wonderful holiday this December, make it a GREAT one!