8 months between waxes

Holy shit, 7 months since I last posted?
Crikey.

So many things have changed, so many things have stayed the same...like that sore arse of mine - still sore.

This little chap has grown:

Sadly my patience for morons hasn't grown (well, spose it's only sad if you're one of those morons...but if you are then you're probably too moronic to realise).

Still fat.

Still batshit crazy.

And brazillian's, even after 8 months (yes, 8 months, I KNOW!), still hurt like fuck.

Busy doing what?

Time passes and my blog continues to get neglected. I think I've got a reasonable excuse though as this is what has been keeping me busy lately.



After what seemed like the longest pregnancy in the entire world, Cooper was born on 20th April by c-section. Weighing a very healthy 8lb 15oz, he's doing all the right things and is just delightful (especially when he's asleep like in the photo).

Things are going pretty well & I feel more in control than I did when I had Riley, and to be honest, probably more in control than I thought I would, but some days (like today when road rage got the better of me at the beach car park & I yelled very bad words to the 80 year old BITCH who stole my park) things feel diabolical.

I'm not sure what makes it worse - the broken sleep, the sore nipples, the constant cluster feeding in the evening or the endless piles of fucking washing.

Oops, it's now 5 weeks later and I still haven't finished this post. There's still piles of washing, there's still bitches stealing parks and Cooper is still delightful.

Getting around to it.

Updating my blog isn't the only thing I haven't got around to doing lately.

I've been so busy lately with renovating, the business, taking Riley to 5 million cricket practices a week, watching Riley's cricket and being pregnant, that a few things have been let go.

So today (well actually yesterday because it's now 3.30am and I can't sleep for the 564th night in a row - ANOTHER fucking treat that comes with being pregnant!) I wanted to put a stop to a couple of these neglected things.

So I got my fanny waxed for the first time since December.

Meh, I know that's disgraceful and I am normally a four weekly girl but I kinda figure that if I can't see it, then surely I don't have to maintain it, right?

Because, let's be honest, it could be on fire and I wouldn't know right now.

Anyway, it's done and I've also updated my blog.

Now I suppose I should go back upstairs, wake my husband up and do something else I haven't got around to for ages.

At least he'd be able to find his way now.

There is a risk that I could lose some of my followers by this post but I can't pretend any longer...

I just don’t get the fascination with Simon Baker.



Sure, he seems like a nice family man and he’s not ugly.

But I think he looks filthy.

Not in a ‘let’s have filthy sex’ way if you know what I mean (and I am sure you do).

But filthy in a ‘he needs a really good wash behind his ears way’.

Ew, and especially his hair.

But George on the other hand...



Well that’d definitely be filthy sex.

AND he’d have clean ears.

My (rather large) stomach.

Seriously, why do people think they can comment on the size of your stomach when you are pregnant?

I saw possibly the fattest woman in the world at the supermarket yesterday but I didn’t consider, not even for a moment, to say ‘oh my god, look at your stomach!’

It was tempting though, especially because she had way too many packets of Tim Tams in her trolley, but I managed to keep my mouth shut.

Until I got home and ate my own packet of Tim Tams that is.

But apparently because I am pregnant it’s totally fine to comment on my stomach.

And my boobs.

Usually I just shrug, blush and feel like crying but hold it together (because no one likes a crying pregnant woman), or if it’s a close friend tell them to fuck off. But from now on I am going to try a new approach.

The following are some of the actual comments I have received. There have been more but these are some of the best. And below them are going to be my new responses.

Wow, you’re big aren’t you?

Wow, you’re a bitch aren’t you?’

Oh my god, look at your belly! It’s SO big!

Oh my god, look at your arse, it’s SO fucking huge!

Wow, you’re showing rather a lot aren’t you?

Wow, you’re showing how stupid you are, aren’t you?’

Far out mate, your boobs have got pretty big haven’t they?

Far out mate, your boobs have got droopy haven’t they?

Gee, you’ve got a 10 pounder in there!

Gee, you’ve clearly got no brain in there!

But the real killer is, they’re right. I am huge, my boobs are massive and it is likely to be a 10lb baby. With a HUGE head.

Fuckers.

Right, where was I?

Ah yes, I'd just come back from a big break and promised to be back soon. Oops, it's the next year even. But lots to tell so hopefully you'll forgive me.

Starting with getting married! Yep, S and I threw a garden party at the end of November to celebrate the baby, the business, my birthday and Christmas and added a wedding to the mix.

It was the best day - very casual but very pretty, lots of good food and wine and all our favourite people. I wore purple, Riley was the best man and S gave me a very large diamond - truly the best day!

I still had a sore arse though.

And then Christmas came and it was pretty average to be honest. Lots of running around after other people and rushing to get places.

And the worst thing of all? NO pavlova!

And then the second worse thing?

An operation on that arse.

Oh. My. God.

Being pregnant meant I couldn't have a general. Ouch.

Fuck me, 10 days later my eyes are still watering remembering it. The upcoming birth will be a breeze compared to that. Even with the very fat head this baby is likely to have.

It's fixed it though. My arse is sore no longer.

What on earth can I possibly blog about now?