Learning to say 'no'

Saying 'no' is often the hardest thing to do. It requires self-control. It also requires self-knowledge not coloured by pride, by fear, by desire, by greed... The discussion about learning to say no is something I return to a lot (most recently here), because it's something I struggle with. It was with some interest, therefore, that I read a blogpost on Buffer about learning to say no to distraction and temptation.

Essentially, the post was about a study done investigating the thought processes that enabled some people to be more effective at saying no. Essentially, it revolves around self-talk: replacing "can't" with "don't". When someone says they "can't" do something, the self-talk indicates they are powerless to do something, so they become powerless. When someone says they "don't" do something, the self-talk indicates they are powerful, choosing not to do something, which further enables them to make the same choice again at a later stage.

As with many truths, when reading that, the wisdom in it seems so self-evident. When I read it, my reaction was "of course!", but it's not something that occurred to me until it was explained to me.

I've been trying to run at least twice a week since the start of the year - with greater and lesser success in different weeks. One thing I've learnt is that on days when it is hardest to get up, the thing that has motivated me has been positive self-talk: You ARE going to get fit; you WILL lose the weight; you CAN do this; you WILL do this. When the self-talk is negative (I don't want to do this; I can't do this; I don't want to do this) it becomes impossible to do it.

Once I'm actually running, and want to give up because it hurts too much, if my self-talk is positive (you CAN make it to that tree/ pole/ bench) I usually make it beyond the goal I've set myself. When it's negative, I stop before I've even realised I'm going to.

So my own experience bears this out.

It's not: I can't eat that chocolate. I can't eat wheat. I can't miss my morning runs.

It is: I don't need that chocolate. I don't eat wheat. I don't miss my morning runs.

I am CHOOSING my behaviour. I am CHOOSING my future.

In a way, it's like any addict. Addicts will tell you that in that moment of craving, they have to make a choice - either to choose to do drugs again, or to choose to walk away. That's the only choice they have. They can't control the cravings, but they can control their response to their cravings.

While I am not an addict, the same truth holds for me. I can't stop the temptation - but I can choose my response to it.

In fact, the same holds true for my walk with God. I can't stop the temptations that would otherwise stop me from spending time with him, or praying. However, I can choose my response. I can choose to give in, or I can choose not to give in. Of course, that makes it sound so easy to do. Sometimes it's anything but easy. That's why Jesus said the road to life was the narrow, rocky one; the one most people wouldn't choose; and the road to hell was the wide, nicely paved one; the one that most people would choose because it was easy to follow.

The power to choose is, I believe, what makes us unique. In the Garden of Eden, God made humans in his image - the ability to choose our behaviour is part of that image. We chose not to obey. We chose to follow the wide road. Jesus chose his behaviour too. He chose to come to earth as a weak human, and to submit to a cruel death, one that should have been mine.

No doubt, the temptations he faced in his life were harder than anything I have, or will, face - ultimate earthly power and glory, to meet his own needs using supernatural power, to know the love found in a marriage, to have children, to save himself from a gruesome death... yet at each point, at each temptation, he chose not to give in. Jesus' choices, as recorded in the Bible, often reveal his self-talk, and interestingly, it was often of the nature of: "I don't do that. I don't want that. I don't need that."

So, my New Year's resolution, my personal challenge, was to get 7 hrs sleep a night and to run twice a week. This term, my challenge will be to change my self-talk. My Easter challenge to myself is to consciously have more positive self-talk - to replace my can'ts with more don'ts. What's yours?

A dream is realised

Over the past year have become intimately acquainted with all of the big online car sites. I could just about use them blindfolded. I could spot a new listing a mile away, and tell you the pricing history of any long term listings. Why? Because I was searching for a new car. Not just any car, mind you - I needed a 7 seater that could take my kids, my dogs, all the bikes, all our holiday luggage as well as all our camping gear without bulging at the seams, falling over or apart, or simply giving up the ghost.

Once I found the make and model that I liked AND we could afford (there is a difference between the two!) I then started searching in earnest. I wouldn't exactly call this the car of my dreams, because that doesn't involve needing to transport children, bikes or luggage, but it comes as close as is practically possible. (My dream car would do 0-100 in less than a second and have a maximum speed of at least 250km/h, would be red, and have all kinds of really cool on-board technology.)

Nearly a year after beginning the process, I found THE car. Right year, right engine size, right colour, right city, and (most importantly) right price. I was ecstatic! I immediately sent an email to the dealer. Being late on a Saturday, I figured I wouldn't hear anything until Monday, but by Monday morning I was so wound up I figured I wouldn't wait to hear, and so we took a drive out to the dealer to go and test drive the car.

We arrived, only to discover that someone else had beaten us to it! The car I had been hunting for so long had been stolen, from right under my nose. We left, but only after the sales rep had promised she would call me within 24hrs to let me know whether the other person's finance offer had been accepted.

Less than 24hrs later, I couldn't bear the wait any longer, so I called. Had the car, in fact, been sold? And then came the words I had dreamed I would hear - 'No, the finance had not been approved'. Less than an hour later we were back at the dealer, test drive completed, with paperwork filled out and signed. That car would be mine, by hook or by persistence (not by crook... I'm not that kind of person after all... but it doesn't rhyme as nicely, I know.)

After a quick stop at the shops, I was home and the money was EFT'd into the dealer's account. I BOUGHT MY CAR! I still can't believe that this beautiful, wonderful car will soon be delivered to me... It's taken a year, but in just a few days, I will finally see my dream realised: a car that meets our needs as a family, with all the add-on's that I was looking for.

How will I sleep tonight???? The excitement is just overwhelming.

Let the record reflect...

Graeme VOLUNTARILY commented that Alyssa is "quite a nice dog". This from the guy who regularly threatens to kill her and usually means it.

Slaan my dood met a veer.

Bafana Bafana have to win now.
___________________________________________
Okay - truth be told there were conditions attached to his comment ... like that when she didn't jump on him, or hassle him, she was....

Times opinion

You may or may not have read the Sunday Times article on the 18th Oct about the Top 100 schools in SA. I only bought the paper because someone commented to me about the article and I wanted to see which schools had 'made' it. When I read the criteria, though, for how the schools were decided upon, I became more and more incensed.

Time to 'fess up: I only became more and more incensed because I realised that the school at which I teach will NEVER make the list. I believe it should be on the list. It's a pretty phenomenal school. But this rather personal gripe got me thinking, and the more I thought, the more I realised how biased The Times' approach was.

Being me, I got all hot under the collar about it, so I decided to write to the Times and give them an earful. Well, they published it. Granted, they edited it somewhat, but the essence of what I wanted to say is there - I think they did a good job of retaining the essence, even if they lost the meat.

Thus far, I've only had good reviews. That doesn't mean to say it's a really good piece, but it's still nice! (I love having a fan club!!) It's also nice hearing from people who's opinions I respect, saying they agree with me.

So - I can now say I'm a published author. How's that for cool?

Nate's dedication

Today we dedicated the little man to God. His name means "Gift of God" and that he is. We recognise that because Nate is a gift, we are merely stewards of his life. He belongs, first and foremost, to God. As such, we choose to raise him within the community of faith that is the church, teaching him to obey all that Christ has revealed to us and taught us. We will need God's help to be the best parents to Nate that we can be.

We hide Nate under the wings of the Almighty, and cover him in Christ's blood, that no harm or evil may befall him. Our prayer for Nate on this special day is that he will grow into faith himself, choosing to find his identity in Christ. We ask that he will grow into all that God has planned and prepared for him, choosing never to compromise or shirk God's will. May he walk the path God has called him to and may he complete all the good works that God has prepared in advance for him to do. May his life be fruitful, and may he bring words of life, hope, encouragement, joy and peace to everyone he meets. May his gifts and talents find their greatest expression in glorifying God. May he share in his Creator's creativity and develop an enquiring mind. May anger, depression, pride and rebellion have no place in his heart. Rather, may the fruit of the Spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness and self-control) grow daily in him. May he be filled with the Spirit to the fullest measure. May he know the voice of the Lord and be obedient to it. May he know the height, depth, breadth and width of God's love for him, and may he never doubt either God's love for him, or our love for him.

Growing up in beauty

When you live with someone (in this case, a child) it's often hard to notice them changing, because you see all the incremental changes. However, from time to time there will come a moment when you suddenly become aware of just how much they've changed. I had a moment like that last night with Nellie.

I was about to leave to go and give my lecture, but was trying to help G get Nellie in the bath and deal with Nathan. While I was sitting on the edge of the bath, pouring the water in, she came into the bathroom. No fussing. No crying. No screaming. No tantrums. She then proceeded to undress herself completely. She went to the loo. G then brought her some juice, so she decided I needed something to drink too, and poured me some water from the basin taps (a big deal, I can tell you!). Following this little feat, she hopped into the bath. All the while, we were having a conversation about Nathan.

This little encounter took my breath away and made me cry tears of joy. I had a moment of revelation, seeing my little girl all grown up: beautiful in body, but even more beautiful in spirit. It was all I could do to not grab her and eat her up. While I don't want her to grow up, because that means she will move away from me (both literally and figuratively), at the same time, I experienced such joy at seeing just how independent she's become.

Although she's still little, and a child, and definitely still has LOTS of moments, I'm beginning to see that the true nature she's developing is a beautiful one. Last week, while I was feeding Nathan, we had been eating something. She finished and asked what she should do with her plate. I asked her to put it on the sink. Then, without even being asked to, she noticed I had finished, so she picked up my plate too and carried BOTH to the sink. How thoughtful and sweet and kind is that?!

She is also increasingly loving towards, and concerned about, Nathan. Of late, she's been quite determined to ensure that someone takes care of him. If I'm not doing it, then she wants to know who will be - G, Priscilla, or the dogs? Of course, as with all siblings, there are times when she doesn't want to know him or be helpful in caring for him (like putting his dummy back in his mouth), but then I have to remind myself that that's normal behaviour for siblings.

Nellie & I are very similar in many ways. She is a very strong and determined child who likes to boss others around. Our similarity has the potential to cause tremendous fighting and stress when she becomes a teenager, and I've been quite concerned about this for some time now. I want to instill in her the values and character traits that will help us avoid real conflict in those years. These little glimpses I'm getting of who she's turning into fill me with such hope and joy that we are raising a beautiful little girl and that she's going to turn out more than fine in the end.

Baby Doppler

Having lost Zoe at 37 weeks, you can understand that I was bound to be rather paranoid during this pregnancy. In discussion with my gynae, we decided that a good route to giving myself peace of mind would be to buy a baby Doppler machine. These machines allow you to hear the baby's heartbeat from about 12 weeks onwards, but in the comfort of your own home.

We looked into it, but they are frightfully expensive in SA, particularly if it's only going to be used for one pregnancy. A very kind friend then offered to buy one for us in the USA, as they were quite cheap there. We were thrilled. Unfortunately, the one she bought can only be used in the 3rd trimester (from week 30 onwards) and despite trying several times, I haven't been able to get it to work at all.

I then had the scare around 22 weeks where I was convinced the baby had died. I didn't rush off to the hospital, as everyone would have assumed I would, because I am (surprisingly) a bit of a pragmatist. Even if the baby was in trouble, they would not have induced or given me a caesar, because a baby that young has little chance of survival outside the uterus. My attitude was - either he will live, or he won't; medically, there is very little that can be done. So I kept my mouth shut, suffered in silence (I didn't even tell Graeme for the first 24 hours) and waited for our scan on the Monday.

At that appointment the sonographer told me that I will find it difficult to feel him move, since my placenta is in the way. It covers most of the front of my uterus, which is where the nerves are that allow you to feel movement. (There are relatively few nerves inside the abdomen in general, most of which are not involved in pain reception, but in innervating digestive muscles, which is often why people can develop tumours and not feel them.) That gave me a lot of peace of mind, because I could calm myself with the knowledge that, this time around, it's okay not to feel a lot of movement.

Since then though, it seems baby boy has decided to co-operate in the grand scheme to keep me sane. He has been steadily kicking his way through my bladder and lungs - the only other places where pain can be easily felt. On the one hand, I've been so grateful - at least I know he's alive; on the other, I've been annoyed - it's not fun having your lung capacity decreased to such an extent that you can't stand and talk at the same time, or feeling like you're about to wet yourself.

There have still been moments though when I've had anxiety. I won't call them panic attacks, because they've never got that bad. I've usually been able to distract myself and calm myself down, and a short while later he has kicked again. However, as the danger period (from now onwards) these anxiety spells have been increasing. Most often, they occur when I wake up at night, and I can't remember when last I felt him move.

So I decided that, since I've not been able to get the other machine to work, it was time for us to fork out and buy a proper Doppler. In conversation with our home group members about my anxiety, they generously (and spontaneously) clubbed together and gave us some money to buy the machine. Last weekend, we found a second-hand one that was (while still expensive) in good nick and less than the full amount for a new one.

Since then, I have learnt a lot about my little man. For example, he REALLY does not appreciate the eavesdropping. No sooner do I put the machine on, and find his heartbeat, than he will determinedly turn away so that I can no longer hear it. Very annoying! Also, I discovered just how much he is actually moving. Even when I can't find his heartbeat (and yes, that does have tremendous potential to freak me out) I can clearly hear him moving around in the amniotic fluid, practicing his kicking and punching. What amazes me is that even while I can hear him, I honestly can't feel it. That has been a great source of peace to me - that even when I can't feel him, the likelihood is that he is still moving around.

The Doppler also has the function to allow you to record the sounds you hear on the computer. I haven't tried it out yet, but I will. When I do, I'll post the recording here, so you can hear him too.

Other than that, I guess we're doing well. I'm feeling more and more certain that he's going to make an appearance before the induction date (which will be 10 June), and that's already early. I say that because I'm already feeling as uncomfortable as I was with Janel (she appeared of her own accord at 33 weeks) and with both girls I went into labour at 33 weeks (Zoe's stopped spontaneously after prayer). I'm 29 weeks now, so if my 'magic' number is 33, then I've got 4 weeks to go! There's a scary thought!

Only fools and horses...

I'm not a perfect driver. Some days, I'll admit, I'm not even a good driver (yeah, you heard it here first). I get far too many speeding fines... I think I've had 4 since New Year. BUT! I like to think that I'm sensible and a pretty good driver (on the whole). I've yet to be in an accident - caused by me, that is. (I've had someone reverse into the side of my car in a fit of road rage, in order to reach the car behind me - the target - more quickly!!)

When there is lots of traffic, I've learnt to chill and just accept that I'm going to be stuck in it for a while, so I slow down, follow proper following distances, etc, etc. In general, I'm a stickler for using the correct signals, and (unlike my husband) I stop at red lights and go at green ones. I don't take unnecessary risks when I have passengers (although because my spatial awareness is damn good it may appear to be so to someone who doesn't have quite the same level of awareness).

Today I nearly lost my rag with a COMPLETE IDIOT. Those who know my local shopping centre will know that on a Saturday morning it is heaving. In order to deal with the traffic problem, one of the adjacent streets has been made a one way. This does make life harder in general, because to get the petrol garage you have to go ALL the way around the shopping centre, or all the way around the adjacent block.

Well, some clever twit decided that, at 11am, it would be fine to go the wrong way down the one way, because it was quicker and shorter. He had a fridge to deliver, and could obviously not be bothered to go all the way round.

Normally, I would have hooted, and then pulled over to let the idiot pass. But today, something in me just had had enough. I don't care that it's longer to go around. I don't care that there is lots of traffic. It's not safe going the wrong way down the road - especially when your kids are in the car, and NOT STRAPPED IN.

So I refused to pull over. I gesticulated to this idiot that he had to reverse. But no, he tried to pull over to let me pass. I refused to move. So then he tried to manoeuvre around me, but my car was in such a position that he couldn't get around without scratching the parked vehicles, his vehicle or mine. Graeme then got out to go and talk to him. Maybe, just maybe, he hadn't understood my gesticulations. But no, he had. He just thought that he was more important and so the rules could be broken for him.

Of course, by this time, a string of cars had pulled up behind me. I was starting to feel the pressure to just give in, when the gentleman in the car behind me, and the car behind him, also got out and came to talk to this idiot. Thus, with extreme reluctance, he started to reverse. He tried to pull up behind a delivery truck that was parked in the road, to make space for me to go around him, but I simply refused.

I pulled up close enough to him to prevent him from travelling the wrong way back down the one way, but with enough space to manoeuvre around the truck. Graeme spoke to him again. Apparently, he told Graeme to call the police because he wasn't moving. So Graeme got back in the car and I started to dial. As luck would have it though, just then, not one, not two but THREE police vehicles arrived (at the end of the road to which we were heading).

I flashed my lights and pointed to this idiot, and within a few seconds, I'd attracted their attention. With sirens blaring, one of the police vans drove down the road towards us. At long last, and with a look that would have killed he did a U-turn and left.

Of course, by this stage my blood pressure was sky high, but I was elated. A triumph for law & justice! A triumph for the local citizens refusing to give in to skollies who think they can do whatever the hell they like. Yay for us!!

This weekend I hardly felt the baby move at all, and recently he's been incredibly active. The last time there was a slow down in fetal movements, it's because Zoe was busying dying. Yesterday I felt no movements at all from lunch onwards.

I have a baby monitor (more of a glorified stethescope than a proper Doppler machine) and I've been trying to use it to listen to the baby (to keep sane and keep dead baby thoughts at bay). While I've yet to hear the heartbeat on it, sometimes I'm able to pick up the sounds of the baby kicking. However, when I used it last night, I heard nothing at all.

I tried very hard not to panic, but didn't manage it. Then I started to feel what might have been mild contractions (for me they always start as lower back ache). By this morning, I'd still felt no movement (and usually I get a few kicks through the night). I didn't sleep very well last night, worrying about it all, and I cried so much this morning (out of fear) I threw up (sorry if that's too much info). Needless to say, I became convinced that the baby had died and I was already in first stage labour. As far as I was concerned, it was just a matter of confirming my suspicions.

Fortunately, today was my 22 week scan, so I didn't need to book an emergency appointment or rush off to the hospital. Waiting till 10.30am was a trial though - especially trying to teach my matrics about implantation and embryo development for their Human Reproduction chapters!

I raised my concerns with the sonographer as soon as I could, who immediately checked the heart - and I promptly burst into tears because his heart was pumping strongly. What a beautiful sight and sound! She did a full APS check (which focusses on the placental health) as well as the usual anatomy checks, and we got the all clear.

Of course, this is exactly what happened with Zoe (almost to a T), and 24hrs later she was dead. I have peace though, that he's not going to be dead tomorrow. I talked to the sonographer about why I couldn't feel him move. My placenta is on the front wall of the uterus, and covers pretty much the entire front of my tummy. This means that unless he kicks really hard, and in the direction of my bladder or lungs, I probably won't feel it. Also, she reminded me that boys are less active in utero than girls are. Since I've had 2 girls, I'm expecting there to be more movement, and there won't be. She also mentioned that because of the placenta being where it is, it will be difficult to hear anything in utero unless I have a proper Doppler machine, hence why I was struggling to hear his movements. Her words reassured me and I feel a lot calmer about everything now.

Of course, I'm sure I'll have another panic attack between now and the induction date, but I am grateful to be past this one. Thanks to everyone who saw my FB/ Twitter status and either sms'd or posted a comment in their concern - I really appreciate it.

The other news is that our due date has been moved forward again. I'm now due on the 1st July, so induction will probably be on Wed 3 June. I will post photos of today's scan soon, and some clips from the video.

Miracles and wonders

For those who know Cape Town, you will never believe what is currently happening here!

For those who don't... a little background. There is, across the bottom part of the CBD, an unfinished flyover highway. The highway was built back in the year dot, and intended to be like the M25 (or similar) in that it circled the majority of the city. However, there was a little stretch that never got completed.

Initially, the reason was that the land underneath was owned by a guy with a little store (corner cafe type of thing) who simply refused to sell or relocate. At least, that's the urban legend. As a result, that highway has been incomplete since I can remember... it wouldn't surprise me if it's been like since before I was born.

Well, miracles and wonders never cease. The council has FINALLY decided to complete the flyover. No more having to drive down into the city and then out again. Soon, if you want to go to Seapoint, you will be able to simply stay on the highway and drive there direct. Isn't that incredible? I never would have believed that in my life time it would get finished, but I guess the 2010 World Cup is having a more massive impact on the city than I first thought it would.

36 weeks to go....

I have no problems falling pregnant. My problem is trying to keep the pregnancies.

So, I am very excited to announce that I am pregnant once again (and at long last). I have such a good feeling about this pregnancy, such a positive feeling. I have nothing to base it upon, but I think this one is going to be fine, God willing.

But your prayers wouldn't go amiss (if you're the praying type) - please pray the drugs I start taking tomorrow (and will continue to take throughout the pregnancy) do the trick without side effects. At the end of the day though, it's in God's hands. So please pray that his will is for this child to be born alive, and to outlive both his/ her parents.

So far, the only symptoms I've had are tiredness and an acute sense of smell. However, I did gag today, so I'm really hoping that doesn't mean my nausea (when it arrives) will be bad again. I really don't know how I will cope with life if I've got my head down the loo the whole day. Due date is 10th July 2009, but in all likelihood will be born at the end of May or early June after induction. I'd prefer early June, but it's not really up to me, so as long as this one is born alive and healthy I won't complain about the timing!

And now, in keeping with the tiredness theme, I'm going to sign off and make my way to bed.

Bless you all.

Another member of the family... or two

Nope - that's not the announcement that we are pregnant - much as we are hoping to make that announcement soon!! We've been practicing hard... we're just waiting to see whether the hard work has paid off, the investment has brought returns, etc, etc.

Instead, congratulations must go to Graeme's brother who has ... [I was going to say something like 'hook' or 'bag', but in thinking about it, that's a pretty vulgar way to describe this fantastic event. No, let me rather say it the old-fashioned, and much more tasteful way.] ... just got engaged to a lovely lady. The family are THRILLED!! What is also pretty amazing is that all 3 boys in the family will be married to girls who were born (and therefore matriculated) in the SAME YEAR! Graeme married a (much) younger lady. (I keep him young.) Robert is marrying a girl roughly his own age, while Philip has married an older woman (who keeps him in line). But wait! There's MORE. Their only sister was ALSO born in the same year!! How freaky is that? So, all the Broster girls (yes, on this occasion I'm happy to be referred to by that name) are the same age. There's got to be something in that, don't you think?

The other congratulations goes to my cousin whose second child was born this afternoon - Myles. Thus far, Myles has joined an elite club on my side of the family... he is one of only 5 boys, amongst 13 girls. Interestingly, 3 of the other 4 boys are the 2nd child. Although that's not a huge sample size to go by, it does seem that if you're going to have a boy in this family, he's going to be your 2nd child. Hmm.... we already have a girl's name picked out for the next one (sad, I know). Maybe we ought to be thinking of a boy's name?!?!

Anyway, huge congrats to Jeanine, Mike and Emily on the latest arrival; and Rob and Gina on their engagement. We love growing families!

Where are my tap shoes?

(With apologies to Robert Frost)

Three stories converged in a yellow afternoon,
And thrilled I had travelled them all
while being one traveller, long I stood
and thought back through all three as far as I could
to where they began their tale...

Story #1: Just last night, I had been watching Top Billing on TV, and they'd done a promo on Lord of the Dance (now in it's 16th year, or something ridiculous) that is coming to SA next month. I've seen it on TV, and loved it, and I thought to myself that I really ought to get off my butt and organise tickets for the Cape Town show (especially as the venue is almost in our back garden), as a special treat for me and G, because we really don't have enough (any??) 'us' time.

Story #2: I never win anything in competitions. At school, I had a friend who, along with the rest of her family, were so well known amongst radio stations for winning their competitions that at least one radio station had barred them from calling to enter competitions more than once per week! They won ALL kinds of stuff. It was amazing.

Me? Well, firstly my general knowledge sucks, and secondly I have no memory for names (faces, yes, names - not so much). That severely limits the competitions I can enter. And then, when I do manage to hear/ see the competition, know the answer, and have the means to enter (ie, pen and paper to take down details, or my phone to sms), I never win. It's like a law, or something. So I don't bother to enter the Lotto, because I know I'll never win.

Story #3: Today, after school finished, I was rushing around doing LL stuff. As I left the house, my errands lay in two completely different directions. So as I pulled out, I had to make the decision about which direction to head off in first. Would I go towards town first, or out to the industrial areas first? After changing my mind several times, I eventually decided to head off to town. On my way, I was listening to the radio. Now, every Friday, my preferred station has a give away. They have a team out on the road, and they give away some really lovely prizes. The deal is that you have to go to them, and do or say something, after which you get the free stuff. Of course, I'm usually on the other side of the city from them when this happens, so I seldom pay attention to it.

And now the convergence... BUT NOT TODAY! Nope. No sooner had they announced the start of the competition, and given their location, than I realised I was right around the corner. So off I dashed to get the free stuff. And what was the free stuff, I hear you ask? Well, let me give you a clue. To get it, I had to do a little jig. Yup - that's right folks. The free stuff was two tickets to 'Lord of the Dance'!!

Now, I know that some people will think that's an amazing coincidence, but I really believe that God had a hand in it. Firstly, my chess matches were cancelled for today, enabling me to have the time to run around. Secondly, I could have chosen to go to the industrial areas first (which means I wouldn't have heard the announcement, because I would already have been in the workshop). Thirdly, what are the odds of the very thing I thought about getting last night being the free stuff being given away today?

I think God wants to bless us with some time out on our own. So we're going to arrange a babysitter for the night, and head off for a little dinner and the show - just us. I'm thrilled! Thanks, Lord, for arranging all the little coincidences nicely for us.

Born Sleeping

Born Sleeping is seriously about to take off!

Graeme and I met with some psychologists at a local private hospital about starting a support group. They don't have the time and resources to run one, and we don't have the contacts to really get the group off the ground, so this is a match made in heaven. We're going to start with one group, and take it from there. All very exciting.

Another exciting development is that we've started a website as well: http://bornsleeping.googlepages.com/. It's still under construction, so some of the links don't work, but that won't take long to fix. It's very exiting to see it finally starting to come together, after all these months!

Good and bad news

Well, the good news is that the consultant says I'm fine. This after many, many, many tests. I've had blood and urine tests for possible thyroid problems, pregnancy diabetes and infections (all clear!), and yet another scan to check on the size of the baby (small, but still within normal range). So as a result, I've been discharged from the consultant's monitoring. Hurray! Here's hoping for a normal term delivery.

The bad news is that the infection which caused Nellie to be born prem would not necessarily have been picked up by either a blood or urine test at this same stage of pregnancy... so there's every reason to think that I might be in the same position as last time and that it simply hasn't been picked up. In which case, I may only have about 3 weeks to go.

The good news is that I've been ordered to have extra midwifery check ups to monitor the baby's health, which should be an indicator of anything going wrong and I've been warned to go to the hospital at the first signs of any pain, even if it means daily trips.

The bad news is that I can't book the necessary midwifery appointments because the appointment book is locked away in a cupboard that no-one seems to have a key for.... (or at least, won't have a key for at least another week... so let's hope that by then there will still be an appointment free for me to have).

The good news is that, apparently, even if my waters break I can go for several weeks without needing to deliver (obviously with the help of drugs) with no significant adverse effect to the baby...

The bad news is that that will only happen if it's caught in time.... hmm... not sure exactly what 'in time' means in this case. I hope I don't have to find out.

More bad news is that I've just had another bout of food poisoning... thanks to Tesco's Chicken Fajita Wraps...

The good news is that there was apparently no risk to the baby at all, and I'm recovering nicely (albeit in pain - do you KNOW how many muscles are used, and with what violence, to throw up while SIMULTANEOUSLY having diarrhoea?!?!?!?) (OK, sorry - maybe too much information, but really - do you have ANY idea?!?!) (LOTS, is the answer, in case you weren't sure of it, and in places you wouldn't even begin to imagine could be involved....) (moving on now...)

The other good news is that I'm about to enter a period of increased rest (which should be good for helping to ensure baby is delivered on time.

The bad news is that the reason for this is that my hero husband is taking my darling daughter to South Africa for 2 weeks on Tuesday... Boo hoo!

More good news is that I only have 2 weeks to go till I'm on maternity leave! WOO HOO!! No bad news to accompany this piece of news (unless you count the fact that I still have to get through 2 weeks...)

So on balance, lots of good news all round.

Oh yes, and for those who couldn't see the videos - sorry! That was entirely my fault for not clicking the right button when I loaded them, so making them only visible to Graeme and I.... DUH! That problem is now rectified and you (along with the rest of the unknown world) can enjoy our little treasure at your leisure.