Mammydiaries has kindly tagged me in the "Ten Favourite Things" meme.

I am going to change this modify this slightly to read my ten favourite things about pregnancy list.

1. The moment of realisation when I felt the baby move. Today I confirmed what I thought I felt over the weekend - the flutters of tiny limbs inside. So exciting to feel them this early on the second pregnancy.

2. The cute things Cupcake does that involve the baby - even though it is still in utero. When you ask her where the baby is she lifts up her shirt and rubs her belly. Sometimes when we play make believe with her tea set she kindly offers baby a cuppa accompanied by some 'numies'.

3. I love sharing all my pregnancy highs and lows with my best friend (whoops when I typed that initially I put breast. I am still breast feeding obsessed.) This is the same friend who had a little girl two weeks after I did and guess what she is also pregnant again. And this time our due dates are 4 days apart. How cool is that?

4. The wonder and anticipation - what will this baby be like? who will they look like?

5 .Food. Not sure I really need to say anything else about that.

6. Milk. No not my own - cows milk. Nectar of the gods and my number one craving. How weird is that!

7. The changes are happening to my body. Sometimes scary, mostly cool but always surprising how adaptable the human body is.

8. Knowing that in several months time I will be breast feeding a little baby again. How exciting I have missed it so much.

9. The agonising struggle of suggesting names to my other half only to be told - ok put them on the list (when he doesn't really like them) or that we are not discussing the baby's name until we are at 8 1/2 months! I CAN'T WAIT THAT LONG. Choosing a name involves a huge thought process - our names, our daughter's name, our freakishly long double barreled last name. Not to mention my mother saying that it has to be something she can say and spell. Ha! No one can ever spell my name!!!

10. The unknown.

Human Pincushion

Today was my first hospital visit to the National Maternity Hospital, Holles Street. I was suitably impressed with my decision thus far to attend a semi-private clinic this time around. Last time I was frustrated with not seeing the same consultant - EVER and the terrible wait times for clinics. At the Rotunda it took 1 hour and 45 minutes to get everything taken care of. This time I breezed through in 30 minutes on the dot. Granted this is my second time doing this so perhaps I didn't have as many questions as I did last time. The midwife went through my medical history and gave me a slip of paper with information on a breastfeeding class available through the hospital. She asked me had I thought about breastfeeding, to which I answered I had thought of nothing else! I explained that Cupcake and I were breastfeeding partners in crime for 13 months. Well you are sorted so, was her response.

Next I had my bloods drawn, an experience I have come to dread since the last pregnancy. I don't mind needles and don't really notice the pain, it is more that I have become notoriously difficult to draw blood from. At one stage last time I had to visit the hospital three separate times for my bloods as they couldn't manage to fill a vial. The midwife managed 3 and a quarter vials on 'the good arm' before this cow ran dry so to speak. She had to stick me 4 other times in the right arm before declaring that we hit a snag. Apparently she had filled the vials in the wrong order - she filled the first one to be tested for sickle-cell anemia as is common practice for 'foreign born'. Although it is my understanding that it is predominant in ethnic groups from sub-Saharan Africa. I could have just told her I know I don't have it. The quarter vial was the one labelled for my blood group. Again I didn't think that this ever changed throughout the course of one's life time... And I have known since childhood that I am O+. Hopefully I will not be sent back for another round!

The case of the inquisitive child

'Doing mama?' A small voice asks from another room.

'I am making dinner. What are you doing?'

Cupcake is sitting on the stair into the laundry room with the glass door closed behind her. Next to her is her stroller piled high with bear, ducky and puppy.

Sounds adorable right? The first several times I heard her ask this I got excited. This is where I can see she is starting to become curious about the world around her. Each time she asks the question of me I try to compose my answer with different words to describe the same action. I am hoping that the more descriptive I can be the larger her vocabulary.

But I have something to confess. As much as I like challenging myself to give differently phrased answers to the same question, I am often left feeling frustrated. I don't know how much she is actually comprehending. And I don't mean that I expect her to understand every single word I use. I mean more along the lines that now she has decided she likes this question she asks it non-stop. Let me rephrase that differently for emphasis- she sounds like a continuous broken record. In the space of one hour I could hear this question a million times. It has been difficult not to pull my own hair out. Sometimes I don't even get to finish my answer before she is asking the question. Now where is the fun in that? It is like she is micro-managing my every action!

Bacon Waffles...

I'll admit it, breakfast for dinner is my favourite guilty pleasure. Tonight I gave in to the temptation and gorged myself on bacon waffles with mixed fruit and honey. It was delicious and nearly an hour later I want another one!!!

Dairy Goodness

I have a curious affliction at the moment. Well I am not entirely sure I would call it an affliction, honestly I am not really sure what it is. But it involves milk, and drinking a lot of it. I have always been a milk drinker, seems to be a habit in our family and love the taste of it, especially non-fat (or skimmed). On my last pregnancy I slowly noticed an increase in my milk intake. I switched from non-fat to this delicious avonmore 1 % super milk with extra folic acid and vitamin D. After cupcake was born I found that the less I drank the more weight I seemed to lose (I guess not too surprising of a connection there...) But you may ask, really how much milk can one person drink in one day. I am embarrassed to say that I am now consuming nearly 2 Litres a day - TWO! You probably think I am insane but I can't seem to resist its cool, yummy refreshing taste.

I had a small panic attack when I stepped on the scale the other day and it registered that I had gained half a stone (7lbs). (Oh good news btw - I checked again this morning and let me just say I think the snow boots and ski jacket were not good additions the other day...) I have vowed not to let my eating get out of control simply because I am pregnant. The urge to eat waffles and bacon drowned in maple syrup every morning has been resisted by looking at some really awful fat pregnancy pictures. You may think this sounds ridiculous - of course I am going to get fat during my pregnancy. Yes I expect that but within a NORMAL range. I did gain over what was to be expected last time and let's face it - I can't afford a personal trainer so I am trying to take it handy the first trimester. Last time I managed to lose most of the baby weight in the year after cupcakes birth through a return to weight watchers and of course, nature's remedy... breastfeeding. It was really hard work though and giving the fact that I am not exercising regularly (read WALKING) due to previously lamented injury I want to make sure I am taking care of myself.

Why did I mention waffles and bacon? Now its all I can think about to have with my nice big glass of milk. :)

They're Back...

Last week after eating a particularly large Chicago deep-dish pizza I noticed that I was unable to suck my stomach in. I don't think the reese peanut butter cups helped either. When I awoke the next morning I was disappointed to find that my bloated stomach had not gone back to its original shape. I made good use of my shopping time over there and hit up target for a pair of maternity jeans, two stretchy tank tops, a nursing bra (based on my size last time), a nursing tank and some comfy underwear. At Old Navy (my favourite store) I found a cute cardigan, a hooded wrap around sweatshirt and two more tops. Voile! Maternity shopping done!

I do not exactly fit into all these clothes yet but some of my skinny jeans are starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. Today I was up rooting around in my attic and uncovered a bag of maternity clothes I had saved from last time. Although if this weather is anything to go by I don't think I will be wearing it for a while. I was particularly excited to find a comfortable old maternity bra. Not exactly the most attractive thing in the world but perfect for lounging around the house. Luckily I have also saved 5 tops, two pairs of jeans and an adorable denim skirt from H and M. Now the key thing will be to accessorize these with cute cardigans, chunky jewelry and some cute boots (when freakish swollen foot can fit into it).

Holidays!

Our holiday in Chicago was wonderful. Despite my misgivings about how I would get around in the weather it was actually not a problem at all. Obviously a place used to having such adverse weather conditions (cough cough unlike the place I live...) the roads and sidewalks were all salted and only once in week did we come across a patch of ice that I had to navigate with caution. I would have loved for my husband to see the city during the summer as it really is a city you need to get out and explore, especially with all the museums and different ethnic restaurants. We did manage to take in Navy Pier (which I liken to Fisherman's Wharf in SF), the Chicago Museum of History and the Field Museum. The Field Museum was AMAZING. I probably could have spent a week there, especially in the evolution exhibition with all these cool dinosaur skeletons. Cupcake loved seeing all the taxidermied animals, especially the tigers and the bears.

And of course the wedding was fabulous. The other girls in the bridal party were so much fun and reminded me of my friends at home. Cupcake really stole the show and was up crawling on the altar the entire wedding ceremony although my friend didn't mind. At one stage when the priest was blessing the eucharist she stood in between the matron of honour and the bride and extended her breadstick to the crowd. It was hilarious!

Now the pictures to ooh and aww over...

Happy New Year!

The (brief) Decade in Review:

When I reflect on the last decade some huge changes have taken place in my life. There have definitely been some of the highest highs and the lowest lows.

Highs

1. Graduating from College and setting off for my European adventure. Little did I realise nearly 8 1/2 years later I would still be living in Ireland - the country where I had a work permit for only 4 months.

2. Making a home with my wonderful husband and having a beautiful daughter.

3. Undertaking a MA in Women's Studies. That really helped me to solidify what I wanted to 'do' with my life.

4. Things associated with my PhD - earning partial funding, being accepted for publication on my first peer-reviewed journal article, the opportunity to teach. All stepping stone towards my career.

Lows

1. Losing both of my Grandparents. When longevity runs in your family you feel like people will live forever. The loss of my Grandmother Marcelina (2003) crushed me and I still think about her everyday. The passing of my Grandfather (2006) was equally as devestating. I am lucky that in 2001 I was able to care for them full time, it gave me the opportunity to really know them as people not just as grandparents.

2. Periods of unemployment - my last stretch nearly exceeded a year. That was very difficult and quite demoralising.

3. Moving away from my family and friends. If I had a crystal ball and could have known how difficult it would be I wouldn't have done it. If I could have talked to my present day self and really understood the sadness I would feel when I think about raising my daughter away from them I would have decided differently. But I suppose now I have to make the best of it.

4. Breaking my ankle in 3 places - and all the pain and frustration that goes with learning how to walk again.

But all in all each and every of these experiences makes my life richer and enhances my sense of self.

Oh I almost forgot - one more personal high for 2009...

I am pregnant with my second child!

Here's hoping that 2010 will bring a happy and prosperous New Year and a healthy baby for our family.

Packing...

Tomorrow we are heading off for a holiday in Chicago. One of my closest friend's who hails from the 'Windy City' is getting married on Saturday and Cupcake and I are part of the wedding party. It should be an interesting trip to say the least because while I am back walking, I can't walk for long periods of time (not that I would expect to in that weather...) and I am still using a crutch. For safety's sake I am bringing both crutches as I wouldn't be entirely certain of my footing on icy sidewalks. We are really looking forward to just relaxing and taking Cupcake to the fabulous children's museum at Navy Pier.

But before we can even think about what we will be doing that dreaded thing known as packing must commence and be successfully completed. As usual I am accused of 'overpacking' especially on the shoe front so I have made the decision to generously cut out one pair of shoes and they are actually my uncomfortable snow boots - will I live to regret this decision? I am bringing my trail runners and they have pretty good grip so hopefully they will suffice. I've been to New York twice during winter and managed both times with flat non-water proof boots so not too worried.

Now to keep a near two year old occupied on a 8 hour flight (and we are expecting delays due to the recent security incident over the weekend)... Any advice?

Stephen's Day

Ah the day after Christmas... A time to relax and sit around in my bathrobe for hours and hours on end.

On Christmas Eve we had husband's family over for some food and fun. This year has been very special as Cupcake's Spanish cousins are visiting over the holiday season. The cousins are nearly 4 and 2 years respectively. This was the first time that Cupcake found herself well and truly fascinated by her 2 year old counterpart. We are, however, still learning to share we have heard many screams of 'mine mine' or 'no me me'.

Christmas was spent down at Nana's house with a food marathon and several games of Scattegories and Boggle. Cupcake was delighted with her new trike and magna-doodle from Ho ho (I am referring to Santa not some crazy present giving prostitute or the hostess baked good). We skyped my family in California when they had managed to rouse themselves after what sounds like a fun night of partying at their blow-out Christmas Eve party where even my Dad was helping himself to shots of Hot Damn. Dad was apparently on a roll, especially after my brother posted pictures of him wearing a metallic shirt that had him looking like a 'Guido' off of Jersey Shore. While I was disappointing not to have been there to celebrate with my family I have promised myself that next Christmas we will be heading over.

Today we went back over to Nana's house to meet up with the extended family. It was nice, although not a surprise to see that the two girls were verbally advanced in comparison to the same age boy cousins. Although I don't necessarily think this relates to gender as I think it really is about how much you read to your children and work with them to learn different words. Cupcake has a huge fascination with books and is constantly reminding us that she requires them all times. A couple nights ago she refused to go to sleep without a book by her side. I think it is cute that she is so demanding (!) but occasionally do get a fright when I hear something fall out of her bed in the middle of the night until I realise it is just a book and not my girl!

The Holiday Season

Well the holiday season is upon us. It seemed to come faster than usual this year, although I am not really sure why since I have spent the last 9 weeks house-bound! Right now I am laying in bed, staring out at a gloomy rainy afternoon and all I can think about are these delicious biscotti that my grandmother used to make. That is how I really knew it was Christmas, these delicious twice-baked cookies would make their appearance once a year in our cupboard next to this lethal fruit cake she also would whip up. Incidentally my Dad swears her fruit cake kept him and his fellow sailors warm and happy while stationed in Adak, Alaska during Vietnam as apparently she put enough alcohol in it to keep the US Navy afloat. Strange, all of a sudden this memory of her biscotti has pierced my consciousness and I miss her so incredibly much.

On a holiday note, I was just browsing on food network, my food bible website for interesting holiday goodies. If there is one thing I love about the holidays it is baking. Every year my Mom would put together these fantastic plates of treats to give to all of our family friends. It was a great activity to be involved in over the Christmas holidays as Mom always needed her special kitchen helper (i.e. moi). It is a tradition I've said I'd like to continue with my aptly named 'Cupcake' as I thought it was a great way to spend time together. There is something about the sentiment attached to giving food, something you had spent the days pouring your love and good thoughts into, that puts me in the 'real' Christmas spirit.

When it comes down to it, Christmas for me isn't a time for going crazy and breaking the bank, rather it is a time for giving things to people that I've actually put effort into making. That being said it has been extremely difficult not to go hog wild buying things for my niece and nephew, especially when I keep seeing cool things I think they would LOVE. So I have made it my goal to try to make one thing for them this year - which involves embroidering as it is the only thing I can accomplish in a minimal amount of time and still feel it looks good. My niece will be receiving a little tote bag with her name and some ice cream cones on it while my nephew will have a personalised 'space' bandana. I just love looking back at all the cool things people made for me as a kid - my desk, a mini rocking chair, a sandbox, a handmade jumper with my name on it - and remembering all the love that went into those things.

3 Year Old Wears High Heels

It isn't very often that I post about pop culture but I just couldn't help but link in to this story. Apparently Suri Cruise, daughter of Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise has been spotted wearing high heels. Yes that is right a 3 year old wearing high heels (and drinking a Starbucks but that is a different matter). What is even more crazy is that Holmes defends her decision to let her dress up doll, er... I mean, child wear the shoes because it is what every little girl dreams of doing. Uh really? Well what little girl planet were you raised on - oh right the one where you married Tom Cruise. I was raised on the one where my parents didn't think it was ok to allow a child to be sexualised from a young age. My mother had down to earth, realistic expectations of me - i.e. that I might grow up to be a doctor or a lawyer ... not a fairy princess. I didn't get my ears pierced until I was 10, I wasn't allowed to wear nail polish to school until I was in high school, nor make up for that matter. And I certainly wasn't chomping at the bit to stick my delicate little tootsies into heels. I guess what is so disturbing is the natural assumption that dressing up is what every girl wants to do. Yeah I guess you would want to be like your mom if she was dressed up all the time but perhaps it is not so much about a 'fantasy' life it is more about what kind of role model you want to be for your daughter. I for one will not be letting cupcake swap her high tops anytime soon.

(Nearly) Back in Action

Now I know this might now seem like a big deal to you but... I am happy to report that I can see my legs again - both legs! My heavy, ugly restrictive cast was removed today and with it a proverbial weight lifted off my shoulders (or lower limb... whatever). I was a bit nervous going into the hospital today, and not because they had giant warning swine flu pandemic signs everywhere (I am technically immune now that I have been vaccinated). It was because I couldn't bear the thought of wearing this cast one more second longer. What if they told me that I'd need to keep it on longer, I would DIE. However my prognosis was good and after being there for nearly 3 hours (hey I am a public patient ok) that sucker was removed. I nearly screamed 'FREEEEEDOOOM' al la Mel Gibson in Braveheart. I stared down at my shriveled limb in trepidation, now how in the world was I going to protect it from knocking off doorways or from an active toddler who wanted to play horse on it? That my friends I have not yet been able to answer. Cue screams of pain... All I know is I came home and took the most glorious hour long shower of my life. I can't shave the 'cavewoman' leg for two days while the skin sloughs its way off, but that hasn't stopped me from enjoying the weightless feeling of my cast-free leg. Now the tough part, for the next week I still have to keep off it until I have my 'procedure' done. I am charge with moving my foot up and down, side to side and rolling it around at the joint. So far the movement has been stiff and painful but if this will make it easier to walk I am going to do it in my sleep!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving Conundrum...

It is not very often I am puzzled by food. But the arrival of my Thanksgiving turkey has me very puzzled indeed.

We are planning to have 22 people over for our belated Thanksgiving meal on Saturday. I am going in to have my cast removed tomorrow and I wanted to make sure that I would have enough time to brine and prep. I managed to secure a very moderately priced FRESH turkey for this occasion. When I spoke to my 'dealer' on the phone I said I needed something about 10kg. Today he delivered into my care a 30lb monster.

Imagine this scenario, I am zipping around in my borrowed wheelchair. I go over to where I have carefully place this roasting monstrosity in my small roasting tin. I attempt to lift this whopper and place it on my lap. I open the oven door with my food (my good one) and try to put the turkey into the oven. I realise from my back-breaking bent over position that this sucker is not going to fit. OH MY GOD, my turkey is too big for my oven.

I call my mother- in- law and we troubleshoot the situation. What about cutting off the legs? It appears like it will fit then but how will that affect my projected cooking time of 4.30 - 5 hours? Also I was going to brine this baby so what will the implications of 'legless' mean? Will I need to roast the legs the day before? So many questions. Who will answer them all?

Then I get a brainwave and I call 1800 Butterball. They are one of the largest and best known suppliers for the traditional Thanksgiving turkeys in the US. A friendly home-economist suggests that I cut that baby in half and roast it in two parts. Hmm not sure will it fit that way either. But this is one of the joys of cooking, hopefully I will successfully feed all my hungry guests on Saturday. I have a feeling that we will be eating turkey leftovers for the next three weeks!

Wedding Shower

Yesterday I hosted a wedding shower for one of my best friends. As we are both originally from the States, and her wedding is taking place in Chicago, it seemed the appropriate thing to do. To my knowledge wedding showers (and baby showers) have yet to catch on in the emerald isle. Usually the duty falls to the maid of honour and the other bridesmaids. As I am the only 'Irish' based bridesmaid I decided that I could handle the lot of it. Yes I do have a problem delegating, something I readily admit - perhaps it is because the age old adage "If you want something done properly - do it yourself" is a mantra I am unwilling to let go of. I had visions of my normal cooking and baking activities. Once my father and I managed to cater a full dinner for the 90 people that attended my father-in-law's 50th birthday! However, the broken limb has thrown me off course, so I was left with no chance but to accept help from some other friends. Our theme was home, and this is totally appropriate as my friend is writing her PhD on concepts of home and diasporic experience of migrants in Ireland. She is also a first-gen American so her own ideas of home are very important in figuring her cultural identity.

So how does one have a theme of home? Well firstly the shower was held in MY home. Ha ha. I decorated the house with flowers and different size heart cut-outs that read phrases like "Home is where the heart is", "Home follows the family", "There's no place like home", "Love makes a house a home" and "Home is where you make it". Then I asked all the guests to email me a treasured family recipe to construct a book of food. Naturally when we think of home we often recall certain comfort foods or meals that trigger specific memories. I thought it seemed appropriate that food and home are linked. I have also baked a selection of goodies - oreo cupcakes, bacon chocolate cupcakes (SERIOUSLY YUM) and brownies with cranberries and pecans.

The day was a total success, we played the toilet paper bride game, where each time dresses up a 'bride' with toilet paper and sello tape. We also played a hysterical version of mad libs called wed libs and we opened presents. I actually LOVED hosting the shower, even though I am dead tired today. Pictures to follow!

update: No sign of Lulu yet... heart is still breaking here. : (

Houdini the Amazing Escaping Dog

When I first moved back to Ireland (after moving home to CA to decide if I really wanted to live in Ireland), we had agreed as a couple that we were ready for a dog. I have always been a dog lover and I had wanted a miniature dachshund for sometime. We got our first puppy Oscar in November 2002. Cute, messy, at times total aggressive male we absolutely feel in love with him. But it was clear in my mind that we really needed to get a second dog because despite our lavish attention, Oscar was lonely during the days when we were in work. Plus, I had always wanted a female dog as I had read that female dachshunds had a great disposition. We searched and search and finally decided that a puppy would be too difficult to rear so we found an 'adult' female (she was 18 months when we got her. Originally named Aura, I instantly decided that she looked like a Lulu. Little did we know that Lulu was crazy, 100% certifiable. But nevertheless she is a total sweetheart, super-friendly and very affectionate.

Why am I giving you this background? Well on Monday Lulu went missing. She had run out the front door and the garden gates were open. I was totally overcome with grief. Then the next morning brought good news, the pound had picked her up no more than two streets over about 40 minutes after she left the house. When I went to collect her at the pound, which trust me is no doggy day spa, we both cried with relief. Then yesterday evening the unthinkable happened again. Houdini has disappeared, AGAIN. This time the garden gates were closed and we have no idea how she escaped. A day later I have flooded the pound with phone calls, talked to the DSPCA, my local vets, even put adds on the internet. My fear is that this super-friendly nutty dog will be run over. The most heartbreaking thing is that Cupcake keeps looking at Oscar and asking for Lulu. Then she will occasionally say, Lulu all gone.

Lulu come home! I don't know what I will do without her.

Back on the bandwagon

The worst thing, the absolute worst thing about having this broken ankle is that I home all the time. I mean like I haven't gone out of this house since last Saturday!!! I have been constantly in the kitchen finding terrible horrible fatty food to devour. I have really fallen off the weight watchers wagon. What is that you say? It might not be as bad as it sounds? No it is really bad, worse even, there is this thing that accompanies me everywhere. I have been thinking of it as the 'blob' but I suppose you might call it my middle section. The reason I am writing this blog post is because I actually need to start holding myself accountable for the food decisions I am making. i.e. I simply cannot use the fact that I can't walk to eat chocolate on an hourly basis. Starting tomorrow I am going to get back to weight watchers, even if I can't go out to attend the meeting I am going to start tracking again.

Catering for the golfing needs of men...

Oh those men with their ravenous, insatiable golf needs. How can a simple [minded] woman like myself keep up?

What, might you ask, are the golfing needs of men? And how might these golfing 'needs' differ from the golfing needs of women?

The Irish Times has just reported on the outcome of the Equality Authority appeal to the Supreme Court on the case involving the discrimination of women from membership at the Portmarnock Golf Club. The Supreme Court has upheld the decision that the Portmarnock Golf Club is not discriminating against women because it was a 'gentleman's golf club, a golf club for gentleman'. 5 euros says that the two male justices that upheld the district court's previous decision are members of that club.

POPPYCOCK I say!

This makes me want to take up golf and bust my way onto that golf course. Any takers?

The last laugh

While talking to my father this past weekend he started baiting me.

"I thought you had a strict no sugar policy, so how come every time I get a picture of that kid [Cupcake] she is eating ice cream or chocolate?"

"Oh Dad, come on I did my best, she was sugar free for, like, 14 months."

"Yeah you sound just like your mother, she tried that kind of mumbo jumbo with you kids. Ha she even tried to buy you guys gender neutral toys. That was a failed experiment. I had the last laugh, I told her it wouldn't make a difference that you guys would turn out to be whatever sex you were born with."

Oh GOD! Classic case biological determinacy syndrome... "Um Dad, I think you should attend a couple Women's Studies classes, we'd love to have you... really."

When I thought about it afterwards, I did have the last laugh in this conversation! Perhaps one might say the ultimate last laugh goes to my mother... If she hadn't thought that gender neutrality could possibly make a difference in how her two girls and one boy were socialised and more importantly, that gender equality weren't something to strive for maybe I wouldn't have turned out to be so committed and focused on feminism.

Back to bed

Or perhaps this post should be titled, "Back to my bed". Yes I have made the move back upstairs after three long weeks of sleeping in the kitchen. It has been wonderful to sleep on a decent mattress and not have some wayward spring digging into my back. The only problem now is that I have to plan very carefully when I will descend the stairs and when I will make my way back up, because it takes a lot of effort so I can only manage once a day for each. Now my 'homecoming' wasn't celebrated by all parties. Of course cupcake is overjoyed to have Mama back where she belongs, but there is someone else who put up some unusual resistance. Yes you read that correctly my own husband wasn't so keen on me returning. It seems that Mr. Sprawl has enjoyed his time alone in our bed. Really I can't blame him, with the exception of the annoying spring and sleeping next to my kitchen table, I rather enjoyed the luxury of not having his legs thrown over me in the middle of the night. I suppose he can't help himself, I mean the poor guy is over six feet tall. I don't however think that gives him the right to infringe on my side of the bed! Even when I was 9 months pregnant I would wake up in the dead of night to find his legs thrown over my stomach. So the natural solution to our problem is to get a bigger bed. I was informed the other day that we could buy the bed but when it arrives he would like just a week or so to sleep there by himself! This is what I can't understand, surely I am the delicate party in this matter, therefore my rest and comfort should be of the utmost concern. Unfortunately we have not come to an agreement and I am desperately awaiting the arrival of the new bed. At least I am out of the kitchen, there is nothing like waking up to the smell of last night's tacos...