Don’t get excited – it’s an old picture


Recently, as part of my get-the-fuck-organised drive I’ve been trying to sort out my million and one stashed pictures and get them uploaded so I don’t have to worry about losing them forever if hardware fails.  Which it does. Regularly.

So, last year my blog was lacking images.  Only an average of three images were uploaded a month.  Now we can’t have that when I have approximately 5000 images from the past two years lurking about so I’m bringing them to you, each one with a little bit of waffley back story much like this.

The first one (ie this one) is pretty self explanatory.

The pee stick that heralded the start of my adventure in parenting.

It was December 28th 2008.  I had spent Christmas eve drunk on wine with a ciggy hanging out of my mouth constantly.  I had had a sudden drunken thought that evening – “I shouldn’t be doing this as I’m pregnant.” But I brushed it off because I think all kinds of crazy shit after a glass of red.

Then I had spent Christmas day stuffing my face and drinking pomeau in the kitchen away from the children.  There was a forehead thermometer and we were all being checked.  Green if your temperature is normal, amber if you’re a bit too hot and red if you should probably be in bed keeping your bloody lurgy to yourself.

Everyone else was green.  I was amber.

I had another drunken thought.

Then I finally braved the pee stick.  After months and months (18 of them!) of trying and failing, I didn’t expect the instant positive.

I cried hysterically and called to OH “you had better come and see this Daddy.”

The bleeding started on New Years Eve.  I did not have an easy ride.

Anyway, it all worked out.  She was fine and is now a lively two year old.


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