I'm pregnant...

There must be something in the air, 2 days ago I was asked if I was pregnant, I recoiled in horror and said no, but thanks...

Today I was looking at baby feet button art and the bloke said, 

'Do you know what you are having? Boy or girl?' 

Much to my annoyance, I told him that I was in fact NOT pregnant, but thanks anyway. 

Thinking about it though, my boobs have got bigger (#asdabra), and my tummy is defiantly more muffiny than usual. Though, that could be due to the 2 Mc Donald's breakfasts that I ate this morning. 

It would be virtually impossible to have conceived, I've been single for 5 months and have only had one indescretion...no, 2 indescretions, actually maybe 3. Let's just say I have had less than a handful of intimate moments in the past 5 months and it just wouldn't be possible. 

I'm hardly Samantha from sex and the city, bonking everything that moves but I'm also not Jane the virgin either- just an explication for those of you open mouthed and counting the fingers on your hand thinking 'how many?!' 

However, the next time someone asks if I am pregnant (which will probably be tomorrow), I'm going to say,

'Yes, I am. I'm due in 3 months and I'm going to call him lucifer, good day to you.' 

Then I will go and sob into an extra large margarita, the pizza not the drink. Actually, maybe the drink would be better. 

On a lighter note, my business cards arrived today...

So now I can be pregnant and up my own arse at the same time. Happy days :) 

I do love them and at least it looks more professional than me scribbling my name on a bit of paper if I feel the urge to interview someone for a blog post. 

I was thinking about rebranding and calling myself 'The Spinster Yummy Mummy' but I would have to get new business cards and the ones I bought cost me over 20 quid, so for the foreseeable future I will still be single. 

Single and pregnant looking...but doesn't the Asda bra work...

Ah, there is a silver lining. 

Washout...

This morning I looked out at the heavy rain filled clouds and soaking wet grass and thought, typical British weather on the one day that I need the sun to make an appearance. 

At 11am I phoned Scarlett's school, to be told her sports day was still going ahead (dispute the fact that it was raining cats, dogs and chickens), as they hoped it would brighten up. 

At 1.30pm I arrived drenched at the school to be told sports day had been cancelled. 

I gritted my teeth and asked why I had not been made aware 'oh, we parent mailed.' The receptionist said with a Vicky Pollard attitude. 

'I don't have a clue what parent mail is.' I said and she handed me a form to fill in. 

'The transition meeting is still on at 2.45 this afternoon though.'

'Well, I have to go back to work now.' I snapped.  

I'm sorry, shall I hang about and do a dance in the rain for an hour? 

Why was the sports day not cancelled this morning when it was chucking it down?!

Honestly, I despair of that place sometimes! 

On my christmas wish list...a placenta ring.

I kid you not, the above is a ring made from your placenta as a keepsake. You can chose to thread it on a necklace, or how about wearing it alongside a breast milk bracelet- made using your own finest milk! 

Baby Bee Hummingbirds is the brain child of Amy McGlade, who is a Midwife, Mother and owner of the most bizarre online shop that exists in Australia...probably even the world. 

When I looked down in horror at the placenta that I have just delivered, my first thought was - Oh my God, what the hell is that?! Get it away from me now! 

Amy McGlade's thought was, now that it what is missing from my jewellery- a nice bit of after birth. 

Each to their own, well done to her for actually starting up a business when times are tight. 

A breast milk bracelet from the website costs AU $75.00 roughly £36.00, which is not really that expensive, after all it's a keepsake that you can share with your kids in years to come. I can hear the screech of a teenage daughter now...

'Mum, where is that boobie milk bracelet?! It goes perfectly with my white prom dress.' 

If you would like Amy to make you some jewellery by recycling your breast milk or innards, her website is- www.babybeehummingbirds.com.au 

Happy shopping!

Who is she?

A woman sits at a bar, she is a vision with her long blonde hair, red lips and stilettos so sharp they could cut a jugular vein with minimal effort. 

Her long manicured fingers curl around the stem of a champagne glass, everyone around her gazes in awe and they wonder, where is her man?

She is not waiting, she is just being. 

A Cheshire cat grin spreads across her face as she places a note on the bar and leaves- alone. 

Who is she and what's her name? 

She is a Spinster and she doesn't need you. 

She is not to be pitied or looked down on, she is a strong, independent woman who is having fun and loving life. 

The male equivalent of a spinster is a bachelor. A bachelor conjures up images of a gorgeous man, in a gorgeous flat with gorgeous women coming in and out out the door. A bachelor is something to be proud of, however a spinster is looked at with shock and disgust. 

But I am going to reclaim the word and give it the power and respect that it deserves. 

From now on if someone asks me if I am single, I am going to say no- I am a spinster. Granted the word sounds a bit sinister and creepy but the more it's used the more familiar it will become. 

Let's celebrate who we are, being a spinster is a choice and we don't all have to conform to the marriage and 2.4 children that all women 'should' ultimately aim for. 

Yes being a spinster is crap sometimes, I have a blown light bulb that I haven't changed in 3 months because I can't reach it, but I can sit in my front room in my pjs, watching footballers wives until 3am eating biscuits if I want without being judged. (Tell a lie, I do get judged but only by my conscience worrying about the biscuits.) 

Let's sing and celebrate being spinsters...

(Insert Beyoncé Single lady's tune)

"All my spinster ladies, all my spinster ladies, all my spinster ladies, put your hands up!"

Oh and if anyone can tell me (male or female) how to stop the text changing fonts I would be eternally grateful. 

Where was I? Oh yes, "All my spinster ladies..."

Pween...

Definition: A child under the age of 7 with the attitude and rudeness of a teenager. Not to be confused with a tween. A pween is far more demanding and much smaller in size (and slams less doors due to the safety catches which were installed then the pween was an innocent toddler). 

Common phrases from a pween: 

'Dont interrupt me or else you won't know.' 

'No Mummy, I can't go on! Oh, unless I get ice cream.' 

'I want to watch Bridget Jones as she's like you, she doesn't have a boyfriend.' 

'I don't like what you have cooked in the microwave, let's go to Mc Donald's as the chips are better.' 

'I spilt something, but I'm not going to tell you where I spilt it or what I spilt.' 

'I've used all of your perfume, my teddy bear smells yummy.' 

'You are a poo head. Go away, get out of my house.' 

'Get me sweets now, or else I will call the police.' 

'Get me a plaster (for the non existent) cut on my knee, or else I will call an ambulance.' 

'Get me some chocolate, if you don't I will scream.' 

My advice for dealing with a pween is to...actually I have no advice, they are exhausting, however I find that wine helps. 

I knew I got away lightly when the terrible two's never happened. It's worse now as I've taught her all the tricks that she knows. 

I'm the Mother of a pween- get me out of here! 

Technical glitch...

I am unable to blog as much due to a technical glitch, in that I got rid of my wifi to save money and then my bill came through for my mobile. 

Apparently Vodaphone don't offer unlimited internet for mobiles. So I now have to pay to get a new phone line so I can have wifi. 

Not smart. Dammit.