From those lovely people over at the Evolt Spool (whose address, is, I think, possibly not for public consumption - but please tell me if I’m wrong) The Death Star - hanging around our solar system.

Spooky or what??

Was going to post, then realised that Queer Eye for the Straight Guy was about to start. That reminds me, I have to remember to look into nominating someone for the UK version!!

Was going to post, then realised that Queer Eye for the Straight Guy was about to start. That reminds me, I have to remember to look into nominating someone for the UK version!!

Can someone let me know what has happened to Mike over at Troubled Diva? Has he moved elsewhere??

Last Tuesday I did something rather rash. I went to an exercise class with the 3 new maternity mates I have made. It was described as suitable for people who had recently given birth and I was told it would be fun. I was told this by one of the others, all of whom, I should mention, are size 8 (since giving birth) and were regular gym attenders pre-pregnancy.

Being a suspicious type, I decided to check whether, in truth, the class was suitable. After all, pre-pregnancy I had a serious nicotine and alcohol habit - and a very un-serious exercise habit. Yes, I was told, the class was an excellent way back into exercise. Marvellous. It had only been about 15 years since I had done any.

So, at 1800 last Tuesday, I walked into my first ever pilates class. It all sounded rather nice. Gentle stretching, deep breathing, balance and enhancement of the pelvic floor. Nobody mentioned you had to do all this at the same time! As the class progressed, I found it increasingly difficult to lift my pelvic floor, exhale and inhale and do the correct stretch all at the same time. I mean, it sounds easy, but you try it. Inhale holding taut your pelvic floor. Then, whilst slowly exhaling, still holding taut your pelvic floor, lift your left leg to a 45 degree angle. As you inhale again (and don’t forget your pelvic floor) gently lower the left leg. It was like trying to do Wigfield’s “Saturday Night” routine, without the aid of alcohol.

In saying all that, at the end of the class, although glowing ever so slightly, I felt OK. The following morning still nothing was aching severely and I began to question whether it had done me any good at all (I am firmly of the opinion that if exercise doesn’t hurt, it can’t be working).

Then came Thursday morning, which dawned with Williams’ cries, closely followed by his mothers - as I discovered I was barely able to leave the bed. My thigh “muscles” had siezed overnight. They’ve been uncomfortable ever since.

Naturally, I’m going back to the class tomorrow!

Reasons to move to the Gene Puddle - in the Guardian, no less! So glad that the son and heir will be attending one of the best primary schools in the area!!

With thanks to the Badly Dubbed One!!

I’ll probably get sued for this. However, NEVER, I repeat, NEVER buy, rent or in any way enter into an agreement with 3 Mobile. There customer service is shit. I have spent several hours today on the telephone trying to cancel the phone I used for work. 4 calls, much holding, too much Norah Jones and some very unhelpful “advisers” later and I’ve just reeled off a stinking letter and will be going to the bank to cancel my direct debit on Monday.

I am SO pissed off it’s untrue. What a waste of a Saturday!!

Hopefully we’re (yes, that’s me AND the Other Half MINUS William) off to see Shrek 2 tonight. And I said I wanted some adult entertainment. Ah well…

You know when your thinking about doing one thing and then do something completely opposite? Well, see the last post. What I was going to talk about at lunch-time, when I wrote the last bit, was the Other Half and his fascination with sheep.

Now ears and eyes have pricked up all over the world I can reveal that this isn’t some kind of perverted fascination - well, I hope not anyway - rather it’s his own personal little obsession. When he got his new job, one of the down-sides was that he has to travel nearly an hour “up a valley” in order to get to work. This, we thought, would be a rather dull and completely boring drive. How wrong could we be. You see, once the Other Half passes Merthyr Tydfil, he enters sheep country. Up there, they are the dominant species, living in the fields, the gardens and even on the roundabouts. So now, each day (and sometimes twice a day if he gets the chance) I learn of the new, wacky places he’s spotted sheep. This obsession has got so bad that last week he even smashed his wing-mirror on the side of a bridge, so engrossed was he in watching the sheep as he drove.

The other evening, he was telling me all about the sheep that had strayed into one of the local gardens and were making short work of anything edible in sight. Not just the lawn - which, you’d have to agree wouldn’t be so bad. Rather, the whole garden was being devoured for breakfast. For all you trivia fans out there (and this is from my mothers lips, so it must be true) sheep won’t eat daffodils, hence why they are the national emblem and prolific across Wales.

Tonight, over dinner, he was telling me all about the flock that stopped the traffic on his way home, talking with envy about the farmer/shepherd on his quad bike, picking up straggling sheep and giving them a lift. It’s got to such a stage I even offered him a guest spot on here (as my postings have been so infrequent) to make sure the wider world got to hear about the Welsh and their sheep. He’s still considering the offer (I think he’s scared you’ll all laugh at him, but as I’ve pointed out, some of the rambling on here is so bizarre, sheep talk will seem perfectly normal!).

So, tonights update on the sheep over, I can only wait, with baited breath, to hear where the sheep will be spotted tomorrow. Personally, I’d be gutted to wake up and find sheep munching through my plants, but I’m starting to worry that rather than bringing his work home with him, the Other Half will be bringing souvenirs of his commute!

So, now I’m home all day, you may be wondering what the hell I’m doing with my time. I mean, this hasn’t been updated for eons, I’m no longer in a stressful work situation and I only have a small meatloaf to change, feed and wind every four hours. Yet, days are flying past with nothing done. So, where does the day go?

Starting at 2am, William has his first night time feed. This lasts anything up to an hour, what with the changing, feeding and winding. I then get a couple of hours sleep, before the 6am feed (which, to be fair, may now be anything from 6am to 7am, which is nice!). I then try and grab another hour, before I get up and start work around the house. There is now more urgency to the washing up, washing, cleaning - and certainly to the sterilising of bottles!

At around 10am William has another feed, before which he has three different kinds of vitamins and minerals, which have been prescribed because he was premature. This feed takes longer as he hates one of the drugs (a multi-vitamin) and tries to spit it out all the time! Then I have to express (you either know what this is, or will faint if I explain it!!).

I try and have some food interspersed with this, and have been out to lunch a few times recently. In the afternoon, I go shopping, meet friends, go to baby massage (I will write about this again - it’s wonderfully “fluffy” and very hippy like) or just try and leave the house.

William gets another feed around 2ish and I’m usually home by 5.30, as he has a feed at 6pm. I’ll also have expressed a couple more times by this stage, but again, no details!! After that, the Other Half and I try and eat, before William has a bath, another feed and goes to bed. We then might collapse in front of the TV, or alternatively just snuggle into bed.

So, one little six and a half pound meatloaf has completely taken over my life. My objective each day is to leave the house - and not injure him in any way! Do you know how easy it could be to do some serious damage to a small child? No, neither did I six weeks ago!!

I am getting something of a routine together - and I promise I’ll get more time on here over the coming weeks. I mean, he’s silent for periods, I’ve just got to make the most of them. However, before I do, I’ll watch the news - or even some crap TV - just so I have something to have an opinion on - other than small people, or nappies, or anything connected to them!