The Alice

This morning, for some reason I woke up feeling very tired and grouchy. I got ready for work and started my day. I couldn’t shake the bad mood – work certainly didn’t help – and I came home still feeling tired and grouchy.

My husband got home early tonight, and did the washing up I’d neglected last night because he knew how tired I was. He called me at work to ask if I wanted him to start on dinner – I said no, because I’d promised pancakes for dinner (and I am the master of pancakes, I have a secret recipe and everything).

I got home from work and slouched on the sofa and had a crumpet and a cup of tea brought to me by my husband as a reward for my hard day. I watched what I wanted on TV, whilst peeling and chopping the apples for the filling of my pancakes. It turned out I was too tired to drag myself to the kitchen to make the actual pancakes so my husband did it, following the instructions I had written down for him. He painstakingly made and served my pancakes but let me put the filling in myself (knowing what a control freak I am, I like things done a certain way!).

He watched the Brits with me for the full 2 hours, and even engaged in meaningless conversations with me about the clothes, performances, the stage sets and who would win.

After that he went back to the kitchen and did all the washing up (though this could have also been an avoidance tactic as I wanted to watch One Born Every Minute). The kitchen is now pretty clean.

He is currently in the lounge at 11.30pm doing all the work he should have done this evening when he was looking after me.

This post is to remind me what a wonderful man Will is; I must stop letting my hormones get the better of me, stop being so grouchy and start remembering how very lucky I am to have him. When I get tired I have a habit of taking it out on him, especially now I’m pregnant, and I really dislike it. I will be a more understanding wife from now on.

* I must also remember last night, when Will escorted me to the toilet at my request. You see, getting up at 1am the night before I was sure there was a ghost in the bathroom and I was scared of going on my own again. I don’t even really believe in ghosts. Poor man.

My journey to work in the morning isn’t very exciting. My train goes directly into Moorgate (I get off for my office at Old Street) and carts hundreds of Lawyers, Accountants and Bankers in to their day jobs. What strikes me every morning is how miserable they all look. Black suits, black faces. I just want to shake them and tell them to CHEER UP!

I wonder what they think of me; I like to dress to express myself and would consider myself pretty feminine. I like dresses, colours, heels. I like trends, fashion magazines and style blogs. What I wear can make (or break) my confidence as it’s such an integral part of who I am – working for a magazine myself means we are all fairly style-concious and there is an non-spoken but implied work dress code (I can’t describe it, but if I had to I would probably just say ‘trendy’. It’s weird).

I notice people that stand out on the train in their appearance – as I imagine I do against the sea of corporate black and grey. Yesterday there was a woman opposite me, I would guess in her 40s, with a big bouffant hairdo and a full-length sequin trenchcoat. My first reaction was to pick my jaw up off the floor, but then I got to thinking about personal style, and how it reflects who we are and makes an impression on others. This woman had tight shiny leggings on that I initially thought were perhaps not quite right for a woman of her age, and her sequinned coat was definitely ‘out there’ – but then I realised that I am no-one to judge.

The woman looked confident. She looked happy. And isn’t that the most important thing? I’ve already said how what I wear really reflects my attitude and state of mind – as I’m sure is the case with millions of other women out there. If I think I look good, I feel a million dollars, and this woman looked like she felt a million dollars. In that instant of realisation my mindset switched from disliking what the woman was wearing – judging her, even – to having a massive respect for her.

Coincidentally, one of my favourite fashion bloggers Mademoiselle Robot wrote a post yesterday (“What is age appropriate?”) after receiving some comments about the way she dresses in relation to her age, and I was pleased to see the consensus is: as long as you’re happy, fuck em. I’ve been having some struggles with this lately as I want to keep my own style during pregnancy and into motherhood, but I don’t want people to look at me and my style differently now I’m pregnant. I like my miniskirts, I like my tight clothes; as long as I can hang on to my size 10 labels why can’t I wear them? Pleasingly Laetitia agrees. As a mum of a 2 year old herself she wore her miniskirts right to the bitter end, and as I said to her, by then I will be used to people looking at my crotch.

(Nothing like a bit of crotch smut on a Monday Morning, huh?)

Fashion week is coming up, and although I won’t be at as many shows as I can fit into one day this time – it’s amazing the stamina a champagne and cupcake breakfast can give you – I have some meetings to attend and will sneak along to the press area for the free Toni & Guy haircut and MAC goody bag. And you know what I will be wearing? My heels, miniskirt and million dollar confidence.

(Top photo snapped by me at last season’s Fashion Week. Man in skirt, heels and beard? Why not. Bottom photo is me and 2 crazy Canadian models/dancers at a party from the same Fashion Week.)

- I need to wee – very often during the day but nighttime is the worst. Will and I have swapped sides of the bed so I’m by the bedroom door and can get out to the bathroom quicker. This is making me feel weird right now, almost like we’re living in a hotel, or like we’ve re-decorated our bedroom or something…

- I need to wee so much because I’m so bloody thirsty all the time. I’ve noticed that when I’m thirsty I get very headachey and tired; there’s definitely a correlation between this and dehydration.

- I have definitely started feeling the baby, I can now tell the difference between my stomach gurgling and baby movements! Daddy got to feel a kick today, too. I’m really looking forward to the movements becoming more obvious – baby seems to be asleep a lot of the time at the moment (like her mummy) and I’m eager for her to be more wriggly!

- My sleeping pattern has never been so sensible and settled as it is at the moment. I go to bed around 10.30 and am asleep just before midnight, and then up again around 8. I still find mornings difficult, but then I did before the pregnancy so I don’t think this is a baby thing. I just don’t like getting up…

- My appetite is back! Aside from the roast potatoes and mayo craving, I’m also eating a packet of salt and vinegar squares every day and I’ve gone from hating the sight of crumpets to not being able to get enough of them.

- I’m happy! So happy, compared with my mood two to three weeks ago. I know this has a lot to do with getting so much more satisfying sleep but I feel like a cloud has been lifted. I’m no longer worrying and am able to happily get on at work a lot more. I feel so contented, and it’s a wonderful feeling.

We don’t really get into Valentine’s day in the H household; as much as I love the idea of a whole day dedicated to romances of the heart, Will is not so into the idea of “paying inflated prices to sit in a crowded restaurant full of other couples pretending to enjoy Valentine’s day” (his words). I usually get a couple of small gifts – I believe last year was a bottle of wine and some tulips – but this time I thought we should perhaps make more of an effort as this would be our last 14th Feb as a twosome.

Will took my jokey request of “a tacky teddybear holding a massive heart saying ‘ I love you’” (which was actually my first ever Valentine’s gift from my very first boyfriend age 10) a bit too literally. Guess what my present was?

Yup, a tacky teddybear holding a massive heart saying ‘ I love you’. And 2 cards!

In return, I got him the Godminster vintage organic heart-shaped cheddar:

I had bought him a great Valentine’s card that I was really pleased with, but can’t for the life of me remember what I’ve done with it, so had to improvise with a Mother’s Day card that was hanging round from last year:

I would blame baby brain, but apparently I can’t anymore…

It’s been a funny couple of days. The blocked up nose I’ve been enjoying ever since I got pregnant has been made unbearable by a cold; I’ve been tired, headachy, grouchy, and did I mention TIRED? I worked from home yesterday, thanks again to the wonderful motion that is HAVING THE INTERNET AT HOME. Wonderful .

Thursday was my second appointment at the hypertension clinic, which was just as relaxing as the first. An hour of relaxing on a couch and a being gently prodded by pulse monitors followed by a view of Baby H – Baby GIRL H! They are now 99% positive that our baby is a girl, and I am 100% happy. I had felt Girly feelings right from the beginning (natural, I guess; Will has three sisters, as does my Dad), and for some reason I just never imagined having a boy.

Anyway, Baby girl H is looking very well, her measurements are on the large side which I expected as I reckon they moved my dates forward by a few too many days at my 12 week scan. My blood pressure is perfect (106/60), and my bloods all came back normal. So we’re right on track and at 17 weeks 4 days, nearly half way there. I’m thinking that people will be able to see I’m pregnant now, rather than just a bit porky:

(Please excuse everything in this photo besides the bump, Saturdays at home mean no bra, makeup and glasses)

We have decided on a name, but I think for now I will try and keep it a secret from the internet. I can say however, that both first name and middle names come from our grandmothers.

Next up in Alice’s baby tales: The Baby Show next Sunday with husband and parents (I’m hoping I don’t freak out as much as I did in the baby department of John Lewis as there is no remedial Topshop nearby), find a good maternity bra, sign up to my local Aqua Ante-Natal class and eBay all the junk that is currently cluttering up the nursery. The fun never ends…

YES YES YES YES YES YES YES!!!

That is the sound of me getting re-connected to modern life at our new house, or the internet to be exact. I did without it for 34 days; there were tears and tantrums (mine), excuses (SKY’s) and desperation (husband’s) but none of that seems to matter anymore.

I’m back!

Apparently, I’m finding this whole no-internet-at-home thing very hard. It may be true that I have even been refraining from reading blogs during my lunch hour at work because I don’t want to know what I’m missing. This is resulting in short lunch hours and a severely clogged-up Google Reader. And I’m watching lots more TV in the evenings than before.

The main lesson learned during this whole experience is: do not get Sky Broadband unless you are prepared to wait over a month for it.

In the meantime, I’ve been entertaining myself with cooking, cleaning and all-round general practice for when I am a full time mum. Plus a lovely minibreak to the Cotswolds (where I grew up) with my husband, parents and brother. They made me go walking, but at least I got proof:

As inappropriately dressed as ever.

Donate. / Bloggers for Haiti.

I feel there is nothing else to say today.

- We moved house! And what a treat our new place is; the fact that I can be in the bedroom and not even hear the TV In the living room is still such a novelty, and I am so pleased to see my houseproud side back in full force (I thought I’d left it in the house in Nottingham when we moved to London 2 years ago). We’re still in a flat, but there is a garden, our own front door and neighbors with a toddler.

- I chilled out, relaxed, and learned how to sleep properly. Something about our new bedroom means I sleep like a baby, perhaps because our heating is no longer included in our rent payments so this house isn’t as balmy as our old one. No more nights of insomnia, no more 4am frets, I’m asleep for 11 and awake at 7. I feel like a new woman.

- From my 12 week test results I’ve been diagnosed as being high-risk for developing pre-eclampsia. It’s a testament to the new laid-back version of me that this hasn’t been worrying in the slightest. In fact, I think it’s wonderful that the hospital are taking such good care of me – I’ll be in every 4 weeks for additional pulse, blood pressure and heart monitoring as well as extra scans. I got to see baby H again yesterday and it was wonderful.

- I discovered emailsfromcrazypeople.com

- I grew a baby bump, evidenced by a lovely lady offering me her seat on the tube.

I am ending this week feeling positive, excited and very happy. Still no internet at home (and it’s not going to be forthcoming until the beginning of Feb, argh), but on the bright side this is giving me plenty of time to cook for and attend to my poor, neglected husband. I really want to get cracking on my freelance portfolio but this will just have to wait whilst I chill out a bit longer. Ahhhhhhhhh……..

Happy first wedding anniversary today to the best husband in the whole world!

It really doesn’t feel like 12 months ago that we said ‘I do’. And at the same time, it feels like we’ve been married forever.

What a year – I can’t wait for the next 70.

PS: a hectic weekend was spent moving all our wordly belongings 5.1 miles north to Muswell Hill. The new house is wonderful, all the SPACE is a revelation (garden! nursery! separate kitchen!). Sky was installed over the weekend but we won’t be online until the 22nd, so until them I’m limited to whatever I can squeeze in at work. Internet, I miss you!