Because I can ...

Each morning at work, between 8 and 8.45, we have the medical laboratory nurse come in to take blood from our patients. The drill is, no appointment necessary, patients turn up on a first in/first served basis, and you can never gauge how many are going to turn up on any one day. Mondays are no different in this respect from Fridays or any other day. Often, if I'm opening the surgery in the morning, there are several cars in the carpark when I get there....so I walk straight past them to the back entrance and let myself in that way. Years ago, we used to let them all in when we turned up. But it became difficult to get our morning routines going properly when patients that arrived early would start expecting attention while we were busy turning on all the computers and getting the money float for the day organised etc....so eventually, we agreed it would be easier on us to leave them waiting. Afterall, the doors don't officially open until 8am...and anyone who turned up at

1. Silent Lurkers: I received an email last week, from someone called Blake Rhodes. He is apparently a CEO of some website search thingy and said that he's now put my blog site on there, so should any of their search engine users put in something that's in the content of my blog...I'll end up in amongst those searches. Don't know how effective this is or even if it's the real deal. But what I do know is....a few days ago, my site counter jumped up 60 hits in less than an hour...last night while I was at work, my site counter leapt up 110 (this is a phenomonal amount of visitors for me). I'm becoming obsessed with checking my site counter! Now, I can't help but wonder if these people have a quick look-see, utter "boring" and move on, or whether they're actually reading anything I bother to blather on about in here. And I say that, cos although the traffic appears to have picked up....the comments still remain from the faithful blog pack I'v

Canada has a good friend of his staying from overseas....from England to be precise. She arrived this afternoon, and for the past few weeks, he's been getting himself prepared for the onslaught of this woman. This lady was a regular bonk buddy for him and between the two major relationships in his life, she was always available...he loves her as a good friend...she's in love with him....and regardless of how much he'd tried to tell her differently, she would still continue to ask him if she could pack everything up and move in with him. (This is a complicated scenario and I won't bore you with the details.) Anyway...I never realised just how worried and apprehensive he was about her visiting. Last time she stayed was over 17 months ago...and prior to our relationship. This time around, he made it clear that under no circumstances would she be sleeping in his bed...and as such made up the spare room in preparation for her. Besides doing that, and cleaning the house

I didn't do the easter egg hiding thing this weekend, I decided that my boys were too old for it now. Actually, I had planned to do it, but the eggs I bought were kinda annoying and I didn't want to open the packets and spread them around the house....so I put it off...then it was 6pm and the boys were walking in the door lol. Neither of them cared about the hunt...they were just pleased that their mother was voluntarily giving them copious amounts of chocolate. 13 had bitten a hole out of the top of his big egg (no, not his father, it was just a hollow chocolate easter egg)...and then proceeded to follow me down the dark hallway, breathing into said hole, and sounding like Darth Vader. This reminded me of when I was a kid...my Dad used to put a blanket over his head and walk slowly around amongst his children grunting....used to scare the bejesus out of me...but it was fun. He would do this occasionally....I guess to feel like he was bonding with his offspring. Years later, w

After I told Canada that I'd posted that pic on my blog (how stupid of me to tell him) he was very quiet. I knew he was unhappy about it, and eventually asked him to spit it out. He said that he was uncomfortable with others seeing me in such a way. He said "I don't want everyone else seeing my girl like that". That immediately got my back up "So...if I happen to go out with a low cut top on, that shows some cleavage, you'd be telling me to go and get changed?" (Over my dead body he would). At this stage I was already feeling annoyed about being a dork and going through the the camera, handcream, tv, breakfast bar, bedroom dresser, kitchen window thing, because he'd said he was going to crop out my body and it was my face that he loved the most. Ok, I understand, the man loves me to pieces, he wouldn't care if I was 500lbs or 100lbs, and my body is not the reason he loves me so much...he's said it several times during our relationship

Update: Now that I've figured out how, I've removed the pic and due to the fact that I had an argument with Canada about it being posted on here, it stayed here longer than I was planning to show it for. (" Ya know? after that reaction, it can stay on there forever after as far as I'm concerned!" ) Anyway, that's been sorted out now, but I was tempted just to leave it here til Kingdom come, just to piss him off further. lol Holy shit, I did it...now I'm really feeling like a dickhead....ok, you lot, this is only going to be here for a short time, so take ya best shot lol This is all a bit more than I was planning to show anyone, let along publish it on the net, but after all the fucking around I've done with Hello etc, it'll have to it for now. (fuck, I can't believe I'm doing this, now be kind or I'll have to hunt you all down and injure you) Oh by the way, I've practically given up on the whole idea of photo crap for now....all t

I'm not sure what I've done here but I think I've downloaded Hello and installed Picasa 2 and have been mucking about in here trying to figure out how to post a picture, just in the editing part of my profile. I say I don't know what I've done because I've farted around so long and invited and added and clicked on 'blogger' and then it tells me that "blah blah" (my sign in name) has sent 3 pictures! As far as I was aware I only sent one and I can't even see where they or it have been sent *sigh* I was going to try being funny and post one of these ridiculous baseball shirt pics as my profile photo for a few short hours, so you could all have a laugh at my expense but alas, I still haven't achieved it, and someone somewhere could be already gasping at my audictity at sending them a baseball shirt/underwear shot of me standing in my lounge with a whole shitload of evidence I need to do some housework in the background. I never thought I

I've just spent time moving myself and the camera around the house, trying to prop the camera at different heights, angles, and putting myself through the same manipulation (no no not that kind). I've taken over 30 photos. Some with the sun coming from behind the camera, some from camera perched atop the cabinet (not to mention on top of a rather large tub of handcream for extra height)....propped up on the tv (also handcream helper evident). I've had the camera sitting on top of the dresser in the bedroom...I've had it sitting on top of the handcream on top of the breakfast bar, and I've been leaning my back against the oven for crying out loud! Anything to find the right height and light to get a true reading of myself. I'm ready to go crazy and flash blind, and hate hand cream for the rest of eternity. I'm gonna go nuts if I don't get this done this morning. It has to be done this morning, cos I know I won't have time this afternoon...and this aft

Well, here we are on Good Friday. Easter is a busy time of year for bakers...hot cross buns and all that points-heavy-forbidden food stuff.....and 15 had to start earlier than usual today. So, this morning at 4.40am he's in my room waking me up...and 5 minutes later I'm walking down the stairs to the car to transport him to the bakery. (Are you impressed with me, only being awake for 5 minutes and then being in control of a motor vehicle? I am). Some good news about this Easter stuff....I read in a book the other day....that chocolate is rated as a low GI food. GI stands for Glycemic Index...and the lower the rating, the longer the food keeps your tummy full (or something like that). Considering the fat content and the high point value of chocolate, I think I'm well capable of finding something else with a low GI rating that is less harmful to my cholesterol level. Mind you, wholegrain bread does not make me swoon at the smell of it like chocolate does these days. So

The practise manager and I were discussing the imminent arrival of her first grandchild this afternoon, and we started talking about the various ages that woman are having children these days. She mentioned she felt she was too young to be a grandmother at 56, but loved the idea of being a Nana. I said morosely and mumbling to myself more than her... "I'm going to be 40 this year" . A stunned expression came over her face and she did a double take and laughed..."oh my god, you're kidding me right? I never would've picked you for 40...I was sure you were only 34-35" "Awwww...you are just the BEST boss EVER!" She was definitely being genuine...and I sailed out of her office feeling fantastic...and I felt fantastic for the rest of the day. It was a small thing, but made me feel great...I felt like I could leap tall buildings in a single bound. Yeah yeah ok, now even I know I'm talking shit. Still, a wonderful natural high. Yay!

To those of you who don't know what Zuma is, go here . This is where I found the game, and then my best friend sent me the full version of it via msn. Anyone who may be interested in getting the full version of Zuma, email me, or let me know via comments, and I will email it over. It's not a large file, zipped up, it's less than 5 megs. Can be a lot of fun, and I warn you now, it also can be addictive. The kid's love it! I've had a gruelling morning at work, I feel sooooo tired. The microwave is singing it's radiation waves through a WW frozen vegetable lasagne (3.5 points) and I'm hoping like hell it's tastier than their disgusting Macaroni Cheese. *beeeep beeeep beeeep* Right, that's my cue to stuff my gob.

For the past couple of months, off and on...in my spare time...I've been playing Zuma hard out. It's driven me nuts to the point where I have been laying in bed at night seeing coloured shiny balls rolling and exploding through my dreams. Today I finally managed to get to the last round and clock this game. OK, so it looks like I'm a dweeb for even playing it, but when I'm sitting here talking to Canada on the headset, I get restless and I have to be doing something other than just staring off into space. In an ideal world, he'd be right here in my living room and we could watch telly together without even having to say anything. You know, that silent companionship thing? However, having an online relationship of this kind, you can't do that. You can't just sit here watching tv saying nothing...what would be the point? You may as well shut down the pc and go watch the tv *sigh*. And so, to have at least one part of me moving while I chat and listen t

Work was fairly mundane this evening. I have to admit, I really don't enjoy the evening shift too much...especially after daylight savings has ended. During the summer, when I finish at 9pm, it's still light outside and I still have some energy left in me. When Winter descends, by 6.30pm it's dark and I'm sitting behind the front desk thinking that it surely must be time for bed. Driving home tonight was nothing short of dangerous and hair-raising as the fog is still thick outside and makes driving at the usual speed almost impossible. It's been like this for days, the airport is still closed and this morning as I drove through the mist to drop the boys at school, I had visions of it never ending, which was awfully depressing. 13 is going to change his name to 14 shortly....in less than two weeks, he's going to be 14 years old. This evening when he hugged me goodnight before bed he added "I hate my height". Ok, he's always been slightly shorter tha

Frally posted a couple beautiful interpretations of her dreams the other night ("Cool Freaky Dreams"). Both were about her children and I loved the way she interpreted them. I don't have any such wonderful dream memories, but I do have one I'll mention. It was a reoccurring dream I had when I was a child. It was short and to the point and I used to get to the stage where I hated falling asleep in case it was going to conjure up again. We lived in a two storey house way back then. Here's my dream in a nutshell. I was being chased by a red indian, in full dress including a great feathered headband and he was brandishing a tomahawk. He would chase me up the stairs and down the hallway, and I ran into my brother's room to hide behind the door. He runs in slams the door and approaches me....I'm screaming my lungs out but there's no sound (and no, I aint so old that silent pictures were still playing in the theatres, savvy?). I'd wake up in a sweat. Don

I went out last night to the softball club's prizegiving evening. Always a good knees up, and usually a whole lot of people getting merrily drunk and dancing in all sorts of manners. There's the typical style of two people dancing about 2 feet apart, not really looking at each other, but occasionally smiling in the general direction of each other; the groups of girls in a circle that a brave male dances right into the middle of and gets loads of whoops and hollers as he's strutting his stuff; the married middle aged couples who you can tell have been dancing together for years because they kind of mirror each others moves. There's also the "I'm so Drunk" dancer, that doesn't give a toss they're the only one on the dance floor, cos they're so well gone on booze they're having the time of their lives despite having just thrown up in the loo and are back on the dance floor with their zipper down or worse yet, for the ladies, the back hem of he

After trying to post comments on several of your blogs recently, and worn a path in my carpet from the PC to the kitchen waiting for them to load up, I have given in and installed Haloscan. I have to admit, I never tried this before (even after reading that some of you have given up on posting on blogger comment because of the delay) due to it being another one of those things I'd have to tell 15 that I wasn't capable of getting my head round, and dragging him out of his bedroom to do for me. This was the most simplest of exercises I've ever done on my blog with HTML. I was rapt it was so friggin easy!! I have tried on many occasion to be patient (clipping toenails, filing fingernails, plucking eyebrows etc) whilst waiting for blogger comments to open up for me...and then sat here in pure frustration that it STILL is not happening! Raaaaarrrrr! So now, my sanity has been restored and I have haloscan...so that at least, anyone who may wish to pass over the frustration and

Just dropped 13 off at school. The fog is so low out there I could barely see where I was going. Wellington Airport is closed due to these low flying clouds. In fact, there are no planes at all at Wellington Airport, because they all flew out yesterday and haven't been allowed back in. The surburb I live in is quite high up on one of Wellington's hills, so we get to experience this foggy phenomena up close and personal like. I drove to the school with the lights on, as you do in such conditions, obviously you want to be seen by other motorists if at least you can't see where you're headed. The amount of cars out there without their headlights on astounded me. And OMG, the ones I spotted were silver and white... what the hell is up with that?? ...were they playing a game of cat and mouse? Ghost riders perhaps? Of all the colours least likely to be seen in this weather, silver and white have got to be the worst. Stupid people like that must like dealing with thei

My body is crying out for hot apple pie with lashes of whipped cream!...my body wants kentucky fried chicken WITH all that fatty skin...I want lollies! Lots and lots of them til I feel sick and have a delirious case of the shakes. I would feel ill when all that greasy chicken fat drizzled down my throat...and the sugar from the sweets would make me nauseous and tired after a short burst of nothingness...but the apple pie and whipped cream?...GIVE IT TO ME! *takes a deep cleansing fat-free breath* I've been reading Happy and Blue 2's latest post about things that others rant about and the zillion or so comments that have been added to it. I have to say that as I read my way through all this, I could relate to everything you all mentioned. It drove me nuts thinking back to those times of frustration...it got me sooooo wound up! There are so many things that get on my nerves (the least of which is not having apple pie and whipped cream in front of me). Slow walkers, fast walkers

Not a lot to report tonight I'm afraid...I'm so damn knackered I feel like climbing into bed and pulling the covers over my head to shut out the rest of the world. On the weight issue, and for the benefit of those that don't know their kilos from their pounds...there are 2.25 pounds to each kilo. *gets calculator, tap tap tap*...that's 8.1 pounds...wow, that's fantastic! (I didn't do this conversion the other night). I do wonder if perhaps that large weight loss over one week had something to do with my new haircut (I mean, I did cut off alot last week) and I shaved my legs, armpits and plucked my eyebrows before the weigh in. I'm sure it all counts! Anyways, I might be tired, but I'm also starving...so not so tired that I won't be making the effort to cook something for dinner. And you know how I knew how very hungry I was??...because I went into the local butchery near work this afternoon, and stood there actually enjoying the smell of raw me

A large women in her 40s comes in to work today, stood in front of the counter for 10 seconds and went and sat down. My co-worker and I were both on the phone talking to patients and when I hung up I went over to get her name so I could check her in on the computer for the doctor. When she saw me approach she said loudly and aggressively "I did come to check in, but you just ignored me". I apologised and explained we had both been busy with the phones. The phones on Monday mornings in particular are incredibly busy, and most patients understand that if we're already on the phone, we will eventually get to them. We do our best not to leave anyone waiting too long, tend to excuse ourselves, put the caller on hold and deal with the patient in front of us. She ranted and raved about being kept waiting and reckoned it was all a get rich quick scheme that she had to see herr doctor, to get her prescriptions and that the prices were nothing short of extortion (it had been quite

I attended an engagement party last night for a lovely young couple, ages 21 and 23. It always amazes me when I attend something like this or a 21st, where there are a group of young people together drinking and socialising. I never feel that much older than them, but in reality I'm almost 17 years older than them. 17 years. That's a whole other teenager's life. When I was 17, I was still in college, was an average student for any subject, except shorthand typing, which was my favourite and the only subject that I consistantly scored in the late 90's percentage-wise with any exam. It was my saving grace. I read shorthand books while sitting on the toilet, I read shorthand and wrote it during english class, it was my bedtime story at night before I fell asleep. I appeared to be obssessed with it. I was one with those strokes on the page. I was awarded certificates and trophies had my name engraved on them because of this wondrous subject. I was a good teenager (

Thank you for your support about 13 guys, I really appreciate it. It really is difficult to watch him lash out in such a way. As far as the school counsellor is concerned, I've had raving reports about him and in fact when 15 first started college he was struggling to settle in and having problems with bullying, so I sent him to the same counsellor. The first session he had, I asked him how he felt about it (he also, like 13, was feeling nervous about talking about his problems with someone he didn't know). But he came home and told me "You know? I feel like I can tell that man just about anything now" which gives me hope that he falls into the category of the latter counsellors. Fingers crossed for 13 anyway. And what a fabulous idea about 13 starting his own blog. I'll put the idea to him when he comes home from his Dad's this weekend and see how he feels about it. I'm not sure he'll be so open to the idea, but it's worth a shot. Thanks he

Before I left the house to get my hair cut the other day, I received a phone call from 13's maths teacher...he was talking quite assertively and had obviously been shaken up. There had been an incident at the school that involved my son and a very nasty outburst in class. He was told perhaps it would be a good idea to go outside and cool down for 10 minutes. 10 minutes later the teacher went out to see him and talk with him about what had happened. At this time, 13 told the teacher he just wanted to be left alone, and as the teacher was trying to encourage him back to class, my son actually stood there punching his fist into the other hand and telling the teacher to leave him alone...the teacher said "are you threatening me?" and 13's response was "I wouldn't care if I killed you". A statement like this, besides shaking up the teacher and making my heart stop beating when I heard it....has serious consequences. He's been stood down (suspended) f

Busy day today. Very busy at work this morning, no dramas like last Thursday, but constantly busy and didn't leave until well after my shift was supposed to finish. No worries, it happens sometimes. I get home, do some housework and feel proud at how shiny and clean looking and smelling my bathroom and toilet are. My kitchen is clear, the dishwasher is churning away, the washing is all folded and put away. Life is feeling in control. Off out the door to get my hair cut. I really got my hair cut. Before I put my foot through the door at the salon, I had long straight thick dark hair....long enough to almost reach the small of my back. I now have hair just past my shoulders and what's more, with lovely stripey kinda golden highlights in it. I love it, so I'm happy and so is my hairdresser when I paid the bill. There was shitloads of my hair all over her floor, and she said "you know? we could thin it out a bit more if you like, it's not like you don't still have

The background to today's post can be read here and here . *ring ring* "Hello?" "Is that Sara?" *exasperated tone* "Oh, for fuck sakes James? What are you DOING ?!" "I know, but I..." "Is there a point to this?!" "Yes, I was wondering if you would give me your email address?" "No I will not! NOW, LEAVE ME ALONE!" *beep* Damn, it's just not the same with portable phones....you don't get to have the pleasure of SLAMMING the phone back into the cradle. I do not want to have to go back to the police about this man. The unfortunate thing is, that each time I file a report, it lasts for 12 months, and then gets archived. And seeing as he waits the full 12 months most of the time before getting back in touch, I have to go back down to the copshop and pour out the sordid story again. I also don't want to have to change my phone number. I refuse to change it because of one complete and utter headcase (I'm

Hey, thanks guys for the support. I went to the meeting last night and felt extremely overwhelmed with it all. There's so much information to take in. Think it would be easier if they just wired my mouth shut, then I wouldn't have to think in WW terms. So anyway, keeping in line with my new eating regime, I started today. Problem I had was I hadn't done any shopping so there was little I could eat from the fridge or pantry, except for items really high in point value. Those points are going to drive me potty until I get them sorted...already, by the end of the first day I am seeing a point value in everything around me. I did manage to stick within the food 'budget' for the first day though regardless. Yay me! And that being said, I promptly came home from work this evening, came online and went straight to the Woolworths site and ordered. lol (don't know why I'm laughing, I'm already fed up with it and feel like fish and chips, which I haven'

As I mentioned recently, Alice has emotionally blackmailed me into joining Weight Watchers with her. Tonight is the night, first night of signing up and weighing in and doing whatever it is that they do at these secret meetings behind doors. Thing is, Alice can't make it, she's off to Hong Kong tomorrow, so will have to attend next week instead. Ok, I've been psyching myself up for this all week so I'm not going to wait another week and add another 10 lbs, so shall go on my own this evening (gives me a head start on the Alice competition hahaha). I've noticed there appears to be a pattern forming food-wise for me this past week. With the big WW meeting looming in a matter of days I had eaten my way through a mince pie (it sat in my stomach like a rock), cream donut (thank you 15), roast pork with all the trimmings, butter chicken and two chocolate bars...these are things I wouldn't normally eat. I guess my mind was saying "hurry! quick! before they take

It's 5.40am and I answer the phone sleepily to hear 15's weekend Boss saying that someone has just called in sick and could 15 cover for the morning please? 15 has been working at the local bakery for the past 18 months, saving up spending money for his recent trip to Japan. He scored the job as 'Cream Boy' which brought forth lots of comments about him wearing a cape and mask and striking a masculine pose for the tabloids after his latest creaming adventure. This position is basically the bakers' assistant and involves anything from filling the donuts etc with cream to washing down whatever and buttering cake pans. It's only once a week but he did manage to save $1300 to take with him for the 4 weeks he was gone (and would've taken a lot more if he wasn't spending frivously - when I discovered that, his EFTPOS (bank/ATM) card was removed from his being with a vitriolic serve care of moi). I was proud of him for sticking with it...the job was tough an

15 went out for the day, expected home around 5pm....13 hung out at home doing not much at all and I spent the majority of the day doing housework and then catching up on reading blog material...I go in each day to check, and lately I've noticed that either 1) your posts are being held up in blog ether or 2) you lot aren't posting daily like normal. I say this because I've been checking daily (yes, I repeat repeat myself) and there's nothing new to read...then whammo! I go look this morning and I have days of blogging spendour to read to catch up. Odd. By 4pm 13 and I are starting to get real hungry....we decided that once 15 called to say he was ready to come home, we'd go grab him and go out for dinner. By 4.30 my stomach was growling and 13 was looking woefully thin....I had to stop myself from ringing 15's cellphone to say we're on our way. He rang at 5.20....we raced out the door, drove dangerously round several corners to collect him and went and

Being the mother of two boys, I've always felt it my duty to the fellow womenhood out there, to make sure they are in touch with their feminine side...or maybe the correct phrasing would be..'non-chauvanistic'...the feminine side thing sounds a bit poofy. I wanted my boys to be independent and sensitive to their counterpart's when the time arose. From an early age, despite my best intentions, it really wasn't practical (or possible) to expect a 3 year old to be cooking his own meals or doing his own washing. Occasionally, when the boys were both toddlers, my sister's husband used to take off up north with his mates and go motorbike riding (in other words, a weekend of adrenalin rush and beer drinking). Whenever these weekends came about I would leave my children in the care of my husband (with huge lists attached to the fridge door) and disappear for a weekend. God, they were bliss! No schedule, noone hanging off my leg, noone whining and calling out to me

H&B: Nothing new to report re Canada...as I said earlier I'm taking things slowly....I don't want to disappoint him again and mess things up this time....it's important I do this right. We're talking everyday, spending time together just chatting or playing some game online...as you'd probably be aware, finding things to do together in this situation is limited, so we either play in backgammon tournaments or play literati (like scrabble). He's champing at the bit to be able to call me his girl again..he's eager to rush over here and sweep me up etc.....and we're practically there, but I have to do this right...I'm scared of letting him down. I am however still saving money and cutting corners as much as practical so I can visit him again...this will be a long way off....after he comes here early next year. So all in all, we're pretty solid...trying our best to keep it real and making sure we talk plenty about any concerns we have. Somethi

A lady in her early 40s rang this morning at 8am....said she'd had a terrible night with an asthma attack and could she see the doctor this morning. I booked her in with the locum at 8.30, and she said she was going to drive down now because she felt so dreadful. That was fine. The nurse hadn't arrived yet and neither had any of the doctors, so there was only me and the other receptionist (Annette) when she staggered in the door. We put her in the treatment room to lie down and discussed the possibility of getting the medical laboratory nurse to hook up oxygen to her (neither of us knew how to do it, but if push came to shove, I was thinking, how hard can it be?) Luckily the nurse turned up 10 minutes later (she was late and surprised at how enthusiastic we were to see her). Still wearing her jacket and carrying her handbag we told her to go straight to the treatment room. She hooked up the oxygen and was calling an ambulance 10 minutes later (I was peeling her jacked off

Only had one doctor this afternoon, due to unforeseen circumstances the other doc left in a hurry. So we were pretty busy, juggling patients and squashing them in where they weren't really fitting, but things still managed to work ok regardless. I received a call from a young dad asking me if he could bring his 9 month old son in. We were fully 'squashed' by then but I will never turn away a 9 month old, you never know what's happening in those tiny bodies of theirs that they can't articulate to you at that age. Dad said son had a temperature and he'd been very grumpy, not himself that day...he'd been teething a fair bit lately and he figured it was probably something to do with that. I told him to bring him in anyway because if it had something to do with his ears or elsewhere, the NOT knowing is worse and they may not have a very pleasant night ahead of them. My children's doctor once said to me years ago, that parents are their children's best pae

I've just finished doing my grocery shopping. I love shopping with Woolworths online. I don't have to nagivate the aisles or wait at the checkout, and they deliver it right to my kitchen each week...how cool is that?! Ok, yes I do have to pay extra for delivery fee ($11.95 for orders over $100) but I figure that I save squillions as well because I'm not throwing whatever I fancy into the shopping trolley if I spy it on the shelf. And that my dears, I'm sure, is the key to some of my overspending. 13 is getting a tad tired with the shopping online thing, he rather enjoys the extras that I chuck in the trolley I think. This morning I told them I was going to order some groceries and did they want anything in particular (the tissues arrived in last week's order) he said "Can we just do some normal shopping for a change?" Amazing that that comment comes out of the mouth of a kid that absolutely despised going to the supermarket with me before. I've

When I became pregnant with 15, hubby and I weren't married, but had been engaged for 5 years. Becoming pregnant made us sit up and say "holy hell, best get our arses into action!". 1989 was a big, no HUGE, year for us. We got married, built the house and became parents all before September. Stress levels were high. I'm 9 months pregnant. Waking up at 1am, I felt some movement in my stomach and heard a snap...not a loud one...it sounded similar to a pencil snapping. I nudged my husband, waking him and said "it sounded like the baby's snapped a bone or something". He looked at me weirdly. He got out of bed, came round my side, helped me out so I could get to the toilet, and as I was waddling my way to the loo, I felt liquid dribbling down my legs. Ok, this is a new feeling... Ye gads, it must be starting! I yell at hubby that something odd is happening down there...and him being the sex fiend that he was (and always interested in whatever was happening do