You know what it's like when you've eaten a really big Thai meal. The salty, sweet, hot and sour flavours are all blended beautifully creating the perfect taste sensation in your mouth. But then, not soon after, you really crave something choclately. Maybe it's just me, and maybe it's just that I'm breastfeeding, but after our thai takeaway last night, I just couldn't help myself. Not one, or two or even a piggy 3, but 8 Ferrero Rocher's later and I was satiated. Thanks to my friends who brought chocolates to the hospital, I have about another three weeks supply of these delectable little nutellar-ly treats - not to mention the exquisite Lindt balls and the hand made fruit-jellies imported from England from my favourite hairdresser uncle (who also gave me a stunning hand cross bred bright purple potted orchid). Anyway, this is the ONLY time in a women's life when eating chocolates in such a gluttonous way is not automatically followed by a shameful bout of guilt. Using breastfeeding as an excuse is great because no way can call you a pig for fear of the aforementioned glutton delving into post-natal depression. The way I see it is that for the last 9 months I have had to endure kicks, punches, incontinence, heartburn and ugly maternity clothes - not to mention the roadmap of stretchmarks - so if I want to eat 8 ferreros or even 25 lindt balls, I'm gonna do it.
There is a downside to breastfeeding.
While I have lost over 10 kilo's in just over a week, (so the baby, placenta and waters weighed about that much, who am I kidding??) but you really have to watch some foods. For instance; Pepsi. I love this beautifully carbonated, sugar infused cola drink. But, I have to limit myself to about half a glass a day or else the bub will be up all night high on caffeine. Mustard/mustard pickles. If I eat this, the little critter will have terrible wind and I will be up all night with her, massaging her tummy until she farts like a trooper. More on baby farts later. Alcohol. In my case champagne and baileys. I have not had a drink since the night we conceived Tara and I don't envisage having a drop for atleast another year. But, that's okay, there's always that sparkling apple juice stuff from Coles my husband gets me when I crave champagne. Sad, I know.
Both girls are sleeping at the moment - a miracle I know. Tara had her first temper tantrum at the bub today and threw her bottle at Eden. Lucky, I have quick reflexes and it just touched her lip.
My hubby has cleaned the house and has just headed off to the gym so I have these few minutes to myself. I'm actually waiting on a courier to deliver something from my sis in NY - I hope its more chocolates.
Oh no, one is up
gotta run
Okay, so Eden woke up for a little refreshment and is snuggled in the crook of my neck. I love that baby smell!
Anyway, on a more serious note, the house fire at Wyong.
I was literally crying buckets at the thought of those little children perishing in that inferno. That image of them stuck on the balcony, screaming out in fear and then no-one coming to their help makes me so angry.
WHERE THE FUCK WAS THEIR STUPID FUCKING MOTHER?????
Out drinking, having a good time with her boyfriend (not one of the fathers of one of her children that perished). Lord, I have no right to judge BUT it's hard not to. I apologise to any of my readers who live on the central Coast (Sydney), but it's women like this who perpetrate the stereotype of irresponsible single mothers on the pension who live on the central coast who have children by a number of different men.
Why shouldn't this woman be tried for manslaughter? The youngest was only 15 months old. Totally unconscionable. How dare she live out her life in comfort, she should pay. I don't care what the excuse was ``we thought the baby sitter was there" they were your children, your responsibility. It makes me sick, angry, sad, heartbroken. It's just not fair.
Would love to hear anyone else's view.
May you all live 2 C the dawn
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