Monday 22 September 2008

Not *all* about sick...

I am about 18 weeks pregnant now, and am wearing my cousin's wife's maternity skirt. Luckily we are about the same size.

I have a rotten cough which makes me sound like an alsation, according to Adriano, and makes my head throb. A late afternoon kip, some Buttercup (i.e. wussy) cough syrup and some paracetamol haven't helped much.

I was sick on Saturday. I feel the need to tell everyone I meet that it's still going on! But the constant nausea is largely gone - PRAISE THE LORRRRRRD!

I could not put it off any longer; I have ditched my former over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders for some larger ones. Two cup sizes larger to be precise. Crikey.

Adriano has been working a lot at evenings and weekends recently, and it's not over yet. But this week he is in every night, I think, and he is looking after me so sweetly. By all accounts he's doing stunningly well at his new job, and I'm very proud of him. The word 'husband' is rolling off my tongue a little easier these days, although it's still got plenty of novelty factor too. I vow never to use the hateful word 'hubby'. *Shudder*. I will occasionally allow myself to be called Wifey only because I know how much Adriano loves Sarcastic Gamer, and it's only in homage to it that the word ever passes his lips.

On 8th September Adriano had flowers delivered to me at our house, to celebrate one month of our marriage. I cried of course. He said they were supposed to make me smile. They do, every time I see them. Some of them are dead now but I can't bear to throw them out because he said he's not doing it every month.

We have been accepted for a keyworker housing scheme because I am teaching at the moment. So far the most obvious houses to look at are in hideous, soulless parts of London that shall remain nameless. But our time will come. Soon, we hope. I still mourn our plan to move to Brighton, but I will never give up on it totally.

I can smell the dinner cooking. Now I can hear the smoke alarm. I am sitting up in bed, barking out coughs and holding my throbbing head, and wondering whether I'm going to make it to school tomorrow. I'm embarrassed to have more sick days after not being there for pretty much the whole of July.

Penelope linked to an artist whose work I love: Andy Goldsworthy. Scroll down and have a look. And also look at Walter Bailey's work. I would love to do something like that.

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* proud new mother * last child * youngest daughter * tallest sister * favourite auntie * honest lover * furtive photographer * diary writer * compulsive dancer * tree hugger * mooncup promoter * chocolate taster * house plant murderer *

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