Frustration

I was planning on some light hearted post for a Monday morning, but the only word that seems to circle round my brain is frustration. I was feeding William in the early hours of Sunday, my mind began to wander, and I found myself thinking of lots of interesting topics and ideas for posts. Then like most of my dreams (and I was half asleep at the time) when I wake up the following day I can't recall a single one of them. Frustration. William seems to have this uncanny knack of knowing exactly when we're about to eat, and then to launch himself intoa hissy fit over apparently nothing. We try to eat straight after feeding him? He suffers with trapped wind We wait until he's been fed, winded and settled? He wakes up as soon as the food hits the plate demanding another bottle. I have resigned myself to eating at a break neck pace, or consuming all food cold. Frustration. I come into work early, knowing that I am on holiday tomorrow, to ensure my deadlines are met. Over the weekend, our IT department have "tweaked" the network. This actually means nothing will work, no printers are available and the stuff you were working on is inaccessible until mid-morning. Frustration. I always try to be an understanding, caring, considerate person. Generally I feel I succeed, for the most part. However I have what is technically known I believe, as the raging horn. Mrs Zilla is out of action, so to speak, for another couple of weeks at least, and is showing no inclination to lend me a hand in that department, metaphorically or otherwise speaking. I thought a lack of sleep and crying baby might alleviate such carnal thoughts, and whilst the crying works temporarily it's not drowning out the shouts from my hormones. Frustration. I would normally apologise for such a negative and whiny post, but the hormones won't let me.

Christmas Revisited

In this post Christmas lull I made a discovery on our camera. When we attended Godzooky 1's Christmas Play I did attempt to take some pictures of him dressed as Rudolph. However, due to the poor light quality these didn't make for great images. With a bit of jiggery pokery (I'm finding sexual innuendo in everything at the moment) I've managed to restore this old master into something almost presentable:

Testing 1,2

We had to take William for a hearing test yesterday. When he was born he had what looked like a pin prick on the outside of his ear. Apparently this is often a sign of deafness. It’s become apparent since he’s been at home that there is no question as to his hearing abilities. He’ll be drifting off to sleep and then jumps a mile when one of the other kids drops something! But an appointment had been made for a hearing test, and we were duty bound to attend. It turned out to be quite interesting. My memories of previous hearing tests were the expert standing behind the child and making a noise to one side, checking if they moved in that direction. Hi-tech stuff! This was far more technical. There were electrodes attached to different parts of his head and then these mini headphones were slipped over his ears. Then sounds were played through them and the electrodes measured muscle movement in the ear. He passed with flying colours and there are no more fears about his hearing ability. It does make you think about how much you take for granted. There are always risks of a baby being born with any number of conditions. On an almost daily basis we seem to get bombarded with statistics, telling you how there’s a one in so many chance of your child contracting condition X, Y or Z. Perhaps it’s a sign of optimism on my part that I never spend much time thinking of worst case scenarios, or perhaps it’s more a sign of my complacency and ignorance? I actually chuckled out loud yesterday at the news that there has been an increase in personal thefts across Britain. Now that in itself is not a reason for amusement, but the advice police have issued is comical. The reason for the increase in robberies is due to the huge increase in people carrying mobile phones, MP3 players, I-pods etc Greater Manchester Police have issued the advice that by all means carry these items, but be careful when you use them. You might not want to use the headphones on your MP3 player, to avoid advertising the fact you have one. So if you’re not going to use the MP3 player, why exactly would you want to buy one and carry it in the first place? I do wish people would realise that the term mobile phones means that the are portable telephones, rather than you have to be mobile whilst using them. People seem to enter their own little dream world talking into them, or texting whilst walking along. That classic phrase of, if you can’t walk and talk at the same time, do one or the other, never seemed more appropriate.

Sleepless in Stretford

Another night of disturbed sleep, unsurprisingly, at least there were a few hours between feeds last night. My problem is that once I get woken up, I find it hard to get back to sleep. My mind starts whirling with thoughts and ideas. Mrs Zilla on the other hand can get up, give a feed, climb back into bed and go straight back to sleep. When I say straight back I mean it too. Her head just touches the pillow and she’s out for the count. I am very jealous. I’d forgotten about the dangers of projectile emission of recently consumed milk. Godzooky 1 could spray it like a fountain, and achieve world class distances. Godzooky 2 was hardly ever sick, she seemed to like her milk too much to want to part with it. Now this guy seems to relish the chance of covering surrounding areas in milk. In reality it’s probably not that much volume of liquid that he’s regurgitating, but boy it can cover what seems like a vast area. I end up winding him with extreme trepidation. Is this belch about to bring forth a torrent of pungent smelling milk? There aren’t even any tell tale signs yet that we’ve noticed, so it really is a lottery. Enough of such putrid thoughts. It seems as though any potential problems with the other Godzookies have been avoided so far. Godzooky 1 is relishing his role as big brother again, and is keen to hold his little brother and tell him how much he loves him and is going to look after him. He does have a knack of disappearing whenever it’s time for a nappy change or to wind him ( he’s witnessed the fountain effect, and refuses to believe that he was the same!) To be honest I had no doubts about him being concerned about the baby. If anything he’s exceeded my expectations and stepped up to being the big boy that we’ve told him he is now. I was unsure how Godzooky 2 was going to react, with her only being 20 months old. It turns out that she’s a bit of a star, you’ve only got to mention changing his nappy and she fetches the changing mat. She also likes to help tap on his back when you’re winding him – she’s not sussed out about the fountain effect yet, or else she enjoys it! She's being exceptionally cute. She gets very excited whenever she sees him after a nap or first thing in the morning. Some of her attention might be a little physical for the baby, but she certainly means no harm. I hope this is a good sign that things will progress well and there will be ongoing harmony in the house.

No Televison Limited

In a move timed to perfection, our cable tv has become unusable. I say unusable, but in reality the provider has shafted us. When we moved into our current house over 3 years ago we had cable tv installed. We didn’t get out as much as we’d like to, so the movie channels were a good option on a Saturday night. When they actually came to install the cable box they discovered that the cable leading to our house was damaged. So using a spare socket on our neighbours box they patched us in on that, telling us that the damaged cable would be repaired the following week, and they didn’t need access to our house to do it, so we didn’t have to wait in. Result, or so we thought. Fast forward to last week, we were watching tv on Wednesday morning when it suddenly went blank. OK, no biggie, call up the cable firm and they’ll fix it. Except the phone line, also provided via cable wasn’t working. One mobile phone call later and an engineer was arranged to call some time between 12 and 6. He turned up at 12.05pm, excellent we thought, soon be sorted. Except he revealed that our patch on the neighbours had been disabled by another engineer and the cable to our house had not been replaced in the prior 3 years! There was no way he could restore our services that day. He booked us for a cable renewal on the Saturday, some time between 12 and 6 again. Saturday came and so did the engineers to sort out the cable. Except they couldn’t reconnect the cable due to a blockage further down the road. They told us it would take a construction crew to dig up the road and repair the main cable. Off they went, after telling us the earliest it could be done was Monday. Last night walking down the road I couldn’t see any signs of the road being dug up. So naively I rang the cable customer services department, to ask if there was a date for the repair to begin. Yes there is a date, the 25th February. Over a month away. There’s more though. The repair will take at least 2 days and then it will be a further 3 days before an engineer can physically reconnect us. Yet there is an appointment booked for that on the 28th February, a mere 3 days after the repair begins. When I asked why this would be, the operator, without a hint of irony, explained that because we aren’t actually in February yet, their calendar won’t accept appointments in March! He did concede that this would tend to point to the fact that this is going to take an extraordinarily long time to fix. To cap it off, he informed me that we wouldn’t be getting charged for the cable tv services during this period, until the repair is actioned and our service reconnected! I should blummin’ well think not matey. Thank you very much NTL. I managed to remain calm, avoided going into extreme sarcasm mode and remembered that this was only a person doing their job. So at this time of 3am and 5am feeds what entertainment do I have to keep me sane while waiting for young William to bring his wind up? Four fully functioning tv channels and one which makes everything look like it’s taking place in a blizzard. BBC2 have now restored the Test Card Girl in all her glory, along with an annoying high pitched hum and a robotic speaking clock voice: “The time will be three twenty-two am and ten seconds, the time will be three twenty-two am and twenty seconds” In my sleep deprived state she’s become almost like a new friend to me Today’s mission is to investigate the possibility of satellite television provision and a return to British Telecom…… To emphasise my ageing status Godzooky 1 was incredulous when I told him that at his age there were only 3 tv channels to watch, and they weren't on all day. I'm starting to feel old

Boyish or Girlish?

Following on from yesterdays' answers, perhaps this explains my lack of macho answers:

You Are 60% Boyish and 40% Girlish

You are pretty evenly split down the middle - a total eunuch. Okay, kidding about the eunuch part. But you do get along with both sexes. You reject traditional gender roles. However, you don't actively fight them. You're just you. You don't try to be what people expect you to be.

How Boyish or Girlish Are You?

On reflection perhaps that's not a bad result, I'm just me, I like that

Normal Service

will now be resumed hopefully. I’ve been tagged by Southern Bird, so here goes: Four Jobs You've Had In Your Life 1) Barman in a real life “two men and one dog” pub 2) Working in a small local newspaper, proof reading 3) Trainee Chartered Accountant with a large national accounting firm 4) Accountant in a Local Government Organisation – transport related, and with great social impact (is it obvious I’m trying to big this one up?) Four Movies You Could Watch Over And Over 1) Withnail and I – great dialogue and reminds me of where I was brought up 2) Dumb and Dumber – yes, that is my level of humour sometimes 3) Human Traffic – great film about a night out partying 4) Sean of the Dead - clever references and very watchable Four Places You've Lived 1) Barrow-in-Furness, Cumbria 2) Ulverston, Cumbria 3) Chorlton-cum-Hardy, Manchester 4) Stretford - Manchester Four TV Shows You Love To Watch 1) Never Mind The Buzzcocks – funny and music related 2) Child of Our Time – documentary tracing how a group of children develop – they’re the same age as our eldest, so it makes for interesting comparisons 3) Big Cook Little Cook – a children’s programme, I watch it with my daughter, she loves it so much, her dancing and singing ALWAYS make me smile 4) The Simpsons – so well written Four Places You've Been On Holiday/Vacation In no particular order 1) Lanzarote – one of the Canary Isles 2) Amsterdam - Netherlands 3) Las Vegas - USA 4) Cornwall – Southern England Four Blogs You Visit Daily 1) Southern Bird 2) Lily's Circus 3) Ticharu 4) Truth Four Of Your Favourite Foods 1) Indian 2) Pasta 3) Crisp, crunchy, juicy apples 4) Dark chocolate Four Places You'd Rather Be 1) On a road trip across the USA 2) Barcelona, never been, but would like to visit 3) In bed on a cold night, knowing that I won’t have to get up in the next few hours 4) In Blackpool enjoying the smiles on my children’s faces Four Albums You Can't Live Without This is a toughie, it would vary from day to day and mood to mood, but I’ll give it a go: 1) George Best by The Wedding Present – soundtrack to my teenage years – angst ridden tales 2) Blue Lines by Massive Attack – an album that brings back lots of happy memories 3) Inflammable Material by Stiff Little Fingers – a searing punk record from my youth 4) First and Last and Always by Sisters of Mercy – from my Goth period. I am a fickle music lover, but at least I can cover most moods with my collection! Four Vehicles You've Owned 1) Ford Escort – well I am an Accountant! 2) Triumph Vitesse – ancient soft top that ate all my money 3) VW Golf – now sadly departed 4) Vauxhall Zafira – my new, sensible, family man car Four People To Be Tagged (I’m not sure what the etiquette on this is, but no offence intended folks) 1) Lily 2) Ticharu 3) Truth 4) Lisa

The Aftermath

The rest of the day was spent nursing the new born, feeding, changing etc. As well as the obligatory phone calls to family of course. Then it was a rush to pick up the other two Godzookies, feed them, bath them and get them in bed. The Saturday saw Grandma Zilla visit from the Lakes. Luckily there is a coach trip to the Trafford Centre on certain Saturdays, and this coincided nicely. She became the first person to see the new arrival, which was great, as in the past she’s had to wait up to a week before getting a chance to cuddle her latest grandchild. Mrs Zilla’s parents visited on the Saturday night, so they didn’t lag too far behind in getting to hold the new addition. I was busy cleaning the house on Sunday, as Mrs Zilla was hopeful of being discharged on the Monday, when she phoned me to say she was able to come home as soon as I could pick her up. Cue frantic herding of children and preparation of child car seats. By 2.30pm we were all back at home, with me still all really baffled by the suddenness of it all. Apparently the ward doctor had come in and asked Mrs Zilla if she wanted to go home. Not being a fan of hospitals she had readily agreed and rung me. I suspect that they were short of beds and saw her as an easy option to move out. All started well enough, I ran round like a lunatic keeping all the normal routines going, ensuring that Mrs Z got plenty of rest. By the Tuesday she was sick of being inside though, and I suspect she had ulterior motives of showing off the new baby, when she said she wanted to come to school to collect Godzooky 1. Everyone cooed and aahed over him, and we were both the proud parents, along with a very excitable Godzooky 1 who told anyone within earshot that his new baby brother was the cutest. On the way back to the car though Mrs Z complained of a tightness in her chest, which we both put down to her overdoing the walking. As the week wore on though Mrs Z kept feeling this tightness whenever she moved about anywhere. She failed to mention it to the community midwife though, until Friday when I was in work collect some papers. My phone went and it was Mrs Z saying that she had to be taken to hospital straight away and would I meet her there. It was suspected that she had a blood clot. She hadn’t received a couple of shots that she should have apparently, and this increased the risk of a clot. An ECG test showed that she was fine, but a blood test revealed that there was a n increased risk of a clot. The medical experts conferred, and decided that only a CT scan with dye would reveal the truth. Unfortunately this was by now 6pm on Friday evening and the scan department was shut for the weekend. It would be Monday at the earliest before she could have a scan. There was no way they were letting her go home, so she was admitted and treatment for a clot begun, just in case. The weekend was spent flitting between home, the hospital and work, trying to meet deadlines for payments at work, visitors hours in the hospital and the children’s normal daily routines. I didn’t get much sleep for those days. Monday came and went without a scan, but finally on Tuesday Mrs Z got her appointment. The clot was found and the treatment determined. Mrs Z has to inject herself daily for almost two months to thin the clot and prevent any more developing. It was a worrying time but at least nothing too bad happened. It was more of an inconvenience, but the consequences of what could have happened without treatment doesn’t bear thinking about.

The Operation

We were both amazed by the pace of the operation, they began cutting at 10.33 and Godzooky 3 was lifted into the world at 10.39. There was a worrying gasp from the midwife checking the baby, but that turned out to be merely amazement at the length of his fingers and toes. Hopefully he will grow into them! He weighed in at a healthy 8lbs 9oz and 55cm long. Then Mrs Zilla was asked again if she was sure she wanted tubal ligation to take place (sterilisation), which seemed a slightly strange. It was the consultant who had said that she would have to have this procedure, given that she has already undergone two other caesarean sections, and the risks of another would be too high. By 10.55 me and the baby were being ushered into the recovery room whilst they finished sewing up Mrs Zilla. This time with my previous experience I had no qualms about being left alone with him, and it didn’t seem long until Mrs Zilla was wheeled in. We waited in Recovery for about an hour whilst Mrs Zilla’s vitals signs were monitored. During this process one of the nurses brought two small pots in, containing what looked like blackcurrant cordial. These turned out to contain the bits of fallopian tube that had been removed prior to the tubal ligation. Neither Mrs Zilla or the nurse showed a sense of humour when I asked if it would be possible to have them made into earrings. I thought it would have made a good talking point at parties, if we ever get out to parties again that is. There is something other worldly about holding a new born baby. The sense of pride, wonder and achievement is like nothing else I have ever experienced. The way they blink and try to bury themselves into the blankets betrays what a shock to the system it must be to enter the world.

Another Picture

Bowing to pressure - here's the latest of William, taken yesterday as he reclines on the sofa, and yes, the cushion did receive a liberal sprinkling of regurgitated milk.

The Preparation

We had arrived at the hospital at 7.45 am, I dropped Mrs Zilla off there, ran Godzooky 1 to school and then dropped Godzooky 2 at Grandma’s then got back to the hospital. Any fears I had that I may have missed something important or left Mrs Zilla alone to be scared were soon dispelled. I arrived back at the hospital at 8.35 am and Mrs Zilla hadn’t even been allocated a bed yet! The initial examinations took place, blood pressure etc etc and then there was the shaving to be done. Yes, that sort of shaving. Done with a dry Bic razor too! I was asked for my shoe size so the nurse could go and fetch me some theatre wear, including the fetching white wellies. I’m actually glad they asked my shoe size, because they were the only things that managed to fit me even vaguely. Obviously I look a lot skinnier and weedier than I actually am, because I felt like the Incredible Hulk when I put my top on. One deep breath in would probably have ripped straight across the chest of this – the material they use isn’t exactly sturdy. Even the trousers were skin tight on my thighs. I was beginning to suspect that the nurses do this deliberately to up the comedy factor for themselves. In another comedy moment Mrs Zilla had neglected to pack a dressing gown. So upon donning her operating gown she was left with a large gap exposing her vitals and nothing to cover it. She ended up walking to the operating theatre wearing her coat to cover her modesty. Have I ever mentioned how classy she is? We got into the operating theatre at around 10.10 am and the first un-nerving moment occurred. The theatre assistant (porter type bloke) approached me to ask if I was the anaesthetist! Mrs Zilla looked most alarmed, understandably! This time, as there was no epidural already in place, the surgeons used a spinal block. Mrs Zilla rated this far higher than an epidural as she still had feelings in her legs but couldn’t actually feel any pain.

The Birth Experience

I’m going to recap on the whole birth experience, mainly for my benefit, as with my advancing age, my memory isn’t what it used to be. In fact truth be told it never has been that great. I seem to have this ability to experience things, earmark them as important, yet still be totally unable to recall the year that they happened. So over my next couple of posts I'll be recounting the events that we've been through recently. Once I've blogged this mad period I'll feel more able to return to normal (hopefully), whatever normal is going to be from now on of course! This birth experience was completely different to the other two that I’ve been through. All three have been caesarean sections, but this one was planned from the set off. The first one followed 40 hours of labour and my memories of it are understandably vague, even allowing for my memory problem. It came more as a relief rather than anything to be concerned about. Over a day and a half sat on the world’s most uncomfortable chair had left me numb to the situation. At least Mrs Zilla had managed a few hours sleep once the epidural had been administered. Godzooky 2’s caesarean entrance was after a mere 20 hours labour, so I was comparatively fresh! Not so fresh as to remember to take the baby grow and vest into the operating theatre. In my defence none of the medical staff noticed either. This meant that once Godzooky 2 had appeared I was sent back to the delivery room to collect the clothes. To achieve this I had to walk round the operating table, giving me an interesting view of Mrs Zilla’s innards as she was splayed open. This time we went in knowing that the caesarean was the starting point rather than the end of a long labour. Mrs Zilla was understandably VERY nervous, both previous times the operation had been a relief rather than an ordeal.. The pace of events was also a lot more sedate, with lots of nice relaxed staff taking their time, heightening our tension and nerves.

The Latest

Well I’m back in work (briefly) after what rates as one of the worst weeks of my life. The whole birth thing went like clockwork, no problems, everyone fine. Grandparents went to visit the newborn in hospital on the Saturday, all thrilled and excited. Sunday I got a sudden phone call telling me that Mrs Zilla could come home, she was being discharged. A quick tidy round and then off to pick up the latest addition. The first few days were fine and dandy, alright, apart from the lack of sleep, but that wasn’t exactly unexpected! Then on Mrs Zilla’s first trip outside she complained about having chest pains. When the community midwife came to visit we told her about the pains and she referred us to the hospital. When we got there, a review of Mrs Zilla’s notes took place, and it became apparent that after the operation she hadn’t received some injections that she should have. These were designed to reduce the risk of clots. So after a barrage of tests, ECG, blood tests, blood gases etc there was no definite confirmation of Mrs Zilla’s condition. The only thing that could provide a conclusive answer would be a CT scan with dye. Obviously by this time last Friday the CT scan department was closed, and didn’t work over the weekend. (What people do in emergencies at the weekend I’m still baffled by) Mrs Zilla was therefore admitted to hospital to await a scan, as a precaution. They started treatment as though she did have a clot, to be on the safe side. Eventually, on Tuesday she did get a scan, and it confirmed a clot. Thankfully Mrs Zilla has now been released and with a course of medication she should be completely fine. The stress of looking after the children and travelling back and forth between school, home and hospital has been relentless. The worry about Mrs Zilla has meant sleepless nights and left me feeling very run down. Hopefully normal service will be resumed shortly. I’d like to thank you all for your kind words and thoughts Here's another picture of William to lighten the post:

Another Quick Update

Mrs Zilla is currently in hospital witha suspected pulmonary embolism, or a blood clot to the non-medically minded. Hence my lack of posts. William is doing fine and here's a picture to prove it:

More news as I get it

At last a name for the baby!

I'm here at work again fleetingly, so here's the latest update: I’ll cut to the chase regarding the name for Godzooky 3, we were still not getting anywhere fast, so decided to book an appointment with the Registrar (of Births and Deaths) to force our hand. In the name of sanity and for an easy life I told Mrs Zilla to make a shortlist of names that she really wanted and I would endeavour to pick one from it. She had already decided on George as a middle name, after her father. The two names she was undecided on as a first name were Edward and William. As I had no real strong preference for either told her to pick whichever one she wanted. The choice varied throughout the day, and I’m sure that even as we entered the Registrar’s office her mind wasn’t totally made up. As the moment came to enter the baby’s name she uttered the words William George, and thus Godzooky 3 was named. If at the age of 13 he decides that he hates his name I can at least tell him to go and see his mother. That’s one potential teenage banana skin she can deal with. I’m still not sure if the name passes my supermarket test: am I really willing to shout out “William, stop it now!”? Perhaps I’ll come up with some variant that I can feel comfortable with. I know pictures haven't appeared yet, but they will be soon, if my skills are up to the task...

Baby News

This is going to be a quick post while I'm in work to pick up papers and stuff to enable me to work at home. Ok - the stats - Godzooky 3 was born at 10.39am on Friday 6 January. He weighed in at a healthy 8lbs 9oz. Both Mrs Zilla and the yet un-named Godzooky 3 (we're getting closer to a name, I think) are doing well. So well in fact that they came home on the Sunday, despite it being a caesarian section. My life now seems to be a whirlwind of trying to do everything all at once to prevent Mrs Zilla from trying to do it. At least being able to work from home should help me keep all the balls in the air so to speak. I will probably be in work for brief times during the week - expect more news and updates then.... ciao

Quick Update

The new car is proving better than I expected, it's still quite quick of the mark, and with the driving position almost level with the Everest base camps you can see trouble coming miles off. It does feel a bit more like a glass house - there's acres more window area and it feels like you have to shout to the rear seats now, such is the increase in space. Even Godzooky 1 has had a change of heart, once I told him about the "secret seats" he can't wait to try them out. I may have made a rod for my own back there. Oh yes, there's the baby thing too isn't there? Only kidding - I've just got back from the hospital, after the pre-op consultation. Everything is tickety-boo for tomorrow, and we, I mean Mrs Zilla, is the only one scheduled for a caesarian tomorrow. So all being well, and barring major emergencies being admitted, we should have the little fella out and be back on the ward by lunchtime. If I can ask a general question of you readers: Is it possible to load pictures directly from a digital camera onto Flickr or some other such facility without installing software onto my work pc? For some reason the IT bods here get a bit tetchy (alright, furious and seek your instant dismissal) if you dare to try and mess with the software on your machine. Techno facists. Any suggestions of ways which will enable me to add more pictures to this drab landscape would be welcomed in the same way as a lottery win. Until I return with news I bid you adieu

Quick Resume

It's been a while since a proper post, but I'll try and recap the major events that occurred over the festive period. Godzooky 1's birthday went swimmingly, lots of fun was had, no major traumas or accidents happened, and I managed to make myself into a cool dad (apparently) by engaging all the kids in balloon sword fights and dying heroically. It was pretty much a good excuse for me to act like a 6 year old again, and I loved every minute of it. Christmas was different to how we planned it. I ended up making two round trips to the Lakes to collect my mother to spend time with us. Tiring, but I think she and the kids enjoyed it, also ensuring less pressure on Mrs Zilla from the kids. They both got lots of presents, but as is always the way Godzooky 1 wants to play with Godzooky 2's presents whilst denying her the chance to play with his. I was grateful that at least there was no sickness this year. Last year Godzooky 1 couldn't even be bothered to open his presents. I'm glad that my expectation levels for personal presents were low, as they were well founded. I must clearly have some sort of personal hygiene problem, given the amount of grooming products I ended up with. Oh and a shirt that even the most gregarious of people would think twice about wearing - a sort of day glo orange hue, with a tie attached that in no way matches the shirt. I shudder at the prospect of it ever leaving the packet. A busy time between Christmas and New Year - a new cot was purchased, so at least the new arrival will have somewhere to sleep. Somehow I managed to purchase one that you could put together within half an hour, unlike the previous one we bought which takes nearly two hours to disassemble and reassemble. I know this to be a fact as I had to do so - moving Godzooky 2 into the same room as Godzooky 1 to ensure less disturbance for them when the baby arrives home. Worryingly it was Godzooky 1 who had the most discomfort with the new sleeping arrangements. On the first night he appeared soon after being put in bed, worried that Godzooky 2 would get out and "get him"! Everything seems to be ok now, and we've had no night time attcks by either party, yet. Today is quite a sad and momentous day for me. Over the Christmas period I also purchased a new vehicle. My lovely sporty VW Golf will not be commodious enough for all the child seats that will be required, so I have had to reassess my needs and wants regarding motor vehicular travel. I am picking up my new MPV tonight, a Vauxhall Zafira, with the clever extra two seats that can disappear into the floor at will. I have told myself that I am not a boy racer (and I'm not really, honest) and that this is a sensible and mature move. Yet still I find myself pining at the loss of my car, for this bigger, more cumbersome thing. I am also quite excited at the same time, but Godzooky 1's disapproval of my choice reinforces my own belief - this is not a "cool" car. Still, at least the new double buggy will fit in the Zafira, so that's a bit of a relief!

It's good to be back

HAPPY NEW YEAR! well I survived two whole weeks without blogging. I can't say I missed posting every day, but at least I've got some material from the festive period that might help with the blogging block I felt I was suffering from pre-Chrimbo. I did miss perusing all the regular blogs I haunt and am looking forward to catching up with everyones news. I am a bit worried that I'll feel like a child at school again, having been off for a while struggling to catch up with developments and hoping that all my old friends will still be there and receptive to my presence. Godzooky 3 has not made an early appearance thankfully, we got through Christmas and New Year unscathed, so all systems are set for Friday. So between having to do urgent work before I'm off again, and doing the afore mentioned catching up with all the blogs I love there may not be lots of expansive posts, but hopefully it will be worth the wait. At least I should have some proper news to post about after Friday. Oh and any suggestions for names for baby boys will be most welcome. We cannot seem to get to an agreement on names. Any input will be helpful....