Cat-astrophes

So it has been a whirlwind of a month. Between Darling Hubby being admitted to hospital and a few days after being released my beautiful mother in law taking a graceful exit off stage it has been draining to say the least. DH made the difficult decision to fly alone to the other side of the planet to be with his family leaving his 35 week preggers wife at home. Mind you - I'm the main culprit for pushing him to go, he was really torn - wanting to be in two places at once. I assured him I have a whole host of support people around to look after me and I'd be fine. Really.

Well that is really quite true - friends and family have done a brilliant job of keeping me busy during this time, but truth of the matter is that come bed time I'm still left all alone in that big bed in an empty house.

Sleeping with the door shut gives me some sort of illusion of security, however I have discovered that this is completely useless if I rather stupidly decide to watch television shows on serial killers and homicides before going to bed.

Whose idea was that?

What's worse is I 'experimented'* with Dexter. A show I've never had any interest in watching - when they market a show with a man with creepy eyes and blood and then shove a cute baby in the shot?? It just seems too twisted for my liking.

Well it stayed on and I submitted a few things on ebay whilst watching the show and yet 'not watching'. Big mistake. (How can they make the main 'hero' of a show so detestable and disturbing and all the while present them as the 'good guy'? Makes a mess of my mind...). While I was cleaning up and brushing my teeth, there was some show about homicide detectives and understanding the mind of a psychopath and how they are lead to target seemingly 'random' innocent people.

By the time I got to bed, closing the door seemed pointless.

I could hear creaking. DEXTER IS IN MY HOUSE!!!!!

Or is that the house settling as the cold night air sets in? Ah okay, however that doesn't comfort me WHEN THERE IS A PSYCHOPATH ON MY VARANDAH!!!

Or is that the rabbit? Yep. It's the rabbit. In fact - that rabbit and his faithful sidekicks (the guinea pigs) have a lot to answer for in terms of lost sleep last night. Every little noise they made convinced me that there was someone outside waiting in the shadows for the opportune moment to make headlines that would reach all the way to DH on the other side of the world -

What a way to go. So there is a lesson to be learnt from all of this, kiddies. When mum says not to watch scary things before bed, there is good reason for it.

*experimenting with tv - I find I do this when home alone. The noise of the tv gives some sort of comfort - so I'll have the tv on, switch to the least boring program and then do something else. The tv remains on but I'm not really watching. This is great for discovering programs that one probably wouldn't otherwise watch - however apparently not so great for sending distasteful subliminal messages...

xxx

Never blog about aiming to write regular entries. It's a proclamation inviting failure.

Well, I've learnt my lesson, so this is the blog entry declaring that I will, on no accounts, be blogging on a regular basis.

In fact, I would not even be writing today if it wasn't for an old friend on Facebook who has started her journey in blogging (mind you, I believe that is long overdue - she is the type of person whose words are wasted locked up in that head of hers - even her Facebook status updates are witty, meaningful, inspirational or all of the above) which then lead me to find other friends who are all blogging (either closet bloggers or not)...which then lead to the 'oh gee, I wish I had a blog', which lead to the 'oh darn it, I do'.

Okay, so my ramblings may not be anywhere near as exciting, inspirational, witty or awe-inspiring...but at least it's cathartic.

On a side note - I'm listening to the gestational period of Tasmanian Devils (don't ask). 25 days! Goodness me, that's the amount of days I have LEFT to go. How on earth does a she-devil have the time to not only *find out* that she is pregnant, but then set up a nursery, prepare herself emotionally, attend ante-natal classes, re-prepare herself emotionally after being scarred by said classes, pack her little labour bags, wash copious amounts of baby-devil blankets and jumpsuits, catch up with all the other she-devils before her capacity to gallivant child-free is thwarted in just 25 days?! I tip my hat to you, little devil. But I'm still spending my 25 days on the couch.

Time for an illustration of a couch session:

I believe the Darling Little Bump had the hiccups, but was determined to kick them out. I was feeling a rhythmic little 'hic' amongst octopus limbs flailing all over the place.

Darling Hubby recently tried making contact by prodding my stomach three times. There was a prompt response of three little prods back. So of course DH repeated his prods - faster this time. DLB responded. This went on for a couple of minutes until the novelty wore off for DH. Apparently DLB has a longer attention span - she tried a few more times before giving up with an almighty KICK as if chucking a little in utero tantrum.

Now she is once again reminding me that it is in fact breakfast time. So, will I write soon? Probably not, but you never know.

xxx