MY #Themeword

My twitter buddy, my twend, one of my tweople, oh sod it, SOMEONE I CHAT TO ON TWITTER, the lovely Claire of Dandelion Lounge blog has tagged me in a meme, in which the task is instead of coming up with new years resolutions, you choose a #themeword. You must choose this word to make a change in how you live your life.

Yeah.

Not easy eh?

So I thought..........

And I did more thinking...............

Hmmmmm. The only big thing I want to change about this year, and stop it from being like last year is basically family.

This year has been a tough one for me family wise, a lot of emotions have been felt. Nothing regarding James or Monty, those two are my rock. Or rather, my rocks.

I'm not going to go into details, as I do not have the words and I'm tired of the thoughts.

But basically this year my family, my unit goes from three (I'm not including the dog- sorry Lenny) and becomes four. We instantly become a tribe. And this makes me feel very emotional. Monty will have a sister, a sibling. Hopefully a playmate, a buddy, someone he'll want to protect. James and I are both only children and I'm ecstatic we are bringing someone else into Mo's life.

So I'm going to enjoy it. So very much.

By the time Pickle arrives, I'll have finished my college course. Finally, as I have been killing myself to get it done in twelve instead of eighteen months so that it's not hanging around while I'm welcoming my newborn litle girl in to the world.

A few weeks before my due date James is sitting his Sergeants exam. This means once these two big hurdles have been jumped we can go back to having 'proper' quality family time, instead of sharing childcare so that each of us gets study time crammed in when he has his days off.

Can't wait. I've missed it.

So my #themeword is family, and I will cherish and protect that little unit like my life depends on it. I'll hold them close and hold them dear because no matter what, they are everything there is, and without everything what is there?

Nothing?

Big knickers!

Today I have one mission.

Buy bigger pants. Not pretty ones, not sexy. Just bloody comfy ones.

It goes against every grain of me but I do not flippin care. My arse will thank me for it and as I become less concerned with making people happy this year I may as well please my tush.

Monday I came home from Ikea, a joyful but exhausting day had been had. It had been somewhat harrowing in that we went to the Southampton one instead of Croydon. I have been loyal to Croydon for ten years. I am not good with change. It is, the same, but different you know? I still spent the obligatory £200 without meaning to. (On shelves, so now we'll be eating beans but be organised. oh yes.) And I still ate meatballs, chips , gravy and lingonberry sauce. You have to at Ikea. It's law I think? But the cafe was different. The carpark was odd. Not the same.

So anyway back to kecks. I came home and the first thing I said to James on getting through the door with Mo was

''I'll talk to you in a minute, I've just got to take my knickers off.''

He nodded. He was not excited in any way ( Why would he be? who would get excited about a hippo in my clothing?) He just nodded.

The reason for the knicker removal is that my butt seems to have got bigger. I do not know why? I'm sure it's nothing to do with hibernating most of December, or stuffing my face with mince pies over Christmas. Because surely at Christmas the calories do not count?

My butt did not change with Monty's pregnancy. So something is quite clearly amiss. I may write a letter to the council to complain? It's obviously their fault as the did not grit the roads? Perhaps that's the reason? Or snow, does snow make you fat?

So anyway, Christmas is over and I am still fat. And need bigger undies.

And today we will mostly be off to M&S. Fact.

Placenta Brain?

They say you get stupider when up the duff. Well I do. I really do.
This week I have been searching for one of my baby bibles, the Tracey Hogg Baby Whisperer book. It was not on the shelf and I could see a gap, and damn it, I wanted to read it again so I was all Tracey Hogged for Pickle bump.
Had I loaned it to someone? I started texting mates. No.
I started doubting them- they've nicked it, it's such a good book they want my copy.
A day went by.
I found it.
On the shelf above.
Whoops.

Beetroots and Gherkins

So! I have done it, taken zee plunge and got ma'self a lil ole bloggy what not type thing, to diarise all the bonkers shenanigens that occur in my house, with my son Monty i.e Motherhood and with Pickle i.e my (2nd)pregnancy.
Bump is nicknamed pickle due to my cravings for anything well, pickled!! Gherkins, beetroot, picalilli, I also currently adore sliced mozzarella with balsamic vinigar. Now i know that one is a pregnancy craving as I served some up to best Husband and he said it tasted of shoe. So hence the rather crap blog name Beetroots and Gherkins! Although I have to admit to feeling a bit of a fraud as I am mostly in Beetroot zone and Gherkins seems to have passed, I occasionally find myself head in fridge hoovering one up pig style but it's mostly BEETROOTS. I heart them.
A week ago Monday I had beetroot in my sandwhich, read the same for about 20 days previous, and read the same for all the days since then...except yesterday.... It was odd. I was at a birthday party with Monty and scoffing pizza, salad, pitta, wedges and houmous and had the irrational thought '' why are there no effing beetroots!!!'' I coped. Of course I did. But you get the picture.
So anyway, a rather bizarre intro to my blog, I should introduce myself etc etc but 1. Can't be arsed and 2. I don't want to to peak to early- keep reading and I'll keep revealing!!!