Letters to [can't reveal name till she's born] #1.

Boys.

Dear [can't reveal name till she's born],

Four days ago, it was your 21st week of swimming in a big liquid pool anniversary. One day it will be your 21st birthday! *clutches heart in anxiety* and I will be...... *gulp* 44.

44! that is only two years away from my "old" age. It is 46 that I plan to have already come to terms with the fact I can't laugh without needing to pee, that I can't hide the two "Pitman" wrinkles passed down to me from your Koro and that you are already pleading with me to dye my hair to hide the stainless steel silvers. I'm not freaking out over getting older mind you, I can't wait for each crevice in my hand to have its own story... to reveal the experiences, the loves, the hurts, the wisdom and the goodness of life. The goodness of God.

We had a huge trip to Auckland yesterday as you know, you always know when were going to Auckland cause you get so excited that you try to kick and headbutt your way out of the womb. (The only reason it doesn't work is cause you are not Chuck Norris. Chuck Norris uses Tabasco Sauce for eye drops so I don't blame or judge you for not being up to par with his abilities). The thing I didn't tell you though is that it wasn't a "shopping" expedition. Sorry to disappoint you. (One day I'm also going to point up into the sky and say "LOOK AT THE PLANE [can't reveal name till she's born] !" pointing up out over the opposite side of the car as your Father sneaks us past "Rainbows End").

One thing you are unaware of right now is you we're going to be a little Sister. Yesterday we had an adoption meeting but realised your "could've been sister" (who is actually your third cousin) is going to be better off with her other family. As much as we would have loved to raise her, we had to put her needs before our own. So you my baby are going to have to put up with being the firstborn. I can't wait to teach you how to do laundry.

The reason I started writing this letter is because I wanted to talk to you about boys. One day your "Boys are gross" filter will unfortunately dissolve into oblivion and you will begin to take notice of their smelly ways. Your Dad wants you to get married at 77, but you might have to remind him that he married a TEENAGER! ewww.

One thing your Jia Jia taught me is that there are boys that want the girl with the short skirts and small shirts. The one you want is the one that loves you for your purity and your love for God. You don't have to dress less for male attention. You don't want the one that gives attention to you for that.

At this moment in time, it is ridiculously easy to "fall" in the way of purity. It was hard for me. It could even be harder for you. If you do fall, if you do make mistakes, have the courage to admit it. Get back up. Deal with the consequences. Ask for forgiveness. Learn from it. Take responsibility.

Always remember, if you do make mistakes, no matter how much pain and regret your decisions may cause, I'm always here to hug you, to understand you, to cry with you, to speak the truth to you. Learn from my mistakes. Learn from others mistakes. Read your Bible. No, actually.

Keeping yourself for your Husband is almost unheard of today. God wasn't being a killjoy when he put pen to paper about that. But before I get too carried away I will save the more indepth "sex" talk until you start asking me to buy you razors (for your legs, hopefully not your face).

Just incase I haven't put you off completely, here's a list that just might:

• Just because a boy is a Christian, doesn't mean he doesn't have hormones.
• Don't underestimate the "being yourself" approach. It's when you can be yourself in a relationship that you will be happiest. It is what attracted me to your Father.
• Let a boy buy you dinner. Buy him dinner too.
• Don't waste a single Saturday night waiting for "him" to call. It will only hurt you if he doesn't.
• Listen to your head. Don't always rely on your heart.
• Don't always trust your emotions.
• Don't play with his emotions.
• Be honest about your intentions and values. Expect honesty back.
• Don't neglect your friends to keep spending time with him. Have a blooming garden of friends, not just a weed ridden bunch.
• Never force love to be. It will happen if it is supposed to.
• Ask God about His opinion.
  

Our futures are defined by our choices, not the chances we may take along the way. If you wake up oneday wondering how you got there... you made your bed and lied in it too, so follow your faith, your beliefs, your heart, your passions.

Look at me! being all Motherly with advice and all.

June 10th 2009 was when we saw those two pink lines on that pee stick, your Father and I got so excited that we almost had to change each other's nappies. It took one failed strip and two positives to convince us to go to the Doctor though... both your Father and I are Olympic Procrastinators, and regardless of our example, you're going to fight a genetic urge to put things off until they are almost past due. Kapeesh?

September the 5th 2009, I felt your first kick. You obviously knew we were away at your Aunty Lyndas beach house having the time of our lives so you wanted to join the action too (Aunty Lynda is actually your third cousin too, she will insist on you just calling her Lynda... but she sooo secretly likes being called Aunty). I didn't feel your next movements until three days later... you let me know you had arrived by booting my poor overly used bladder a couple times. As for now? GO TO SLEEP!

You have a pattern where you kick three times and stop, so we'll be relaxing on the couch when your Dad is all of a sudden ripped over to my side by the arm as I force his hand to my belly after your first kick. He has only felt you kick once... and he wasn't even sure if it was a kick or if his hand just twitched... it could have been his hand twitching (he IS older than dirt and I'm starting to think he'd like me to start pureeing his steak so he doesn't have to chew it) but we promise not to hold that against you, at least not until you come home with piercings in your face and then WE WILL TOTALLY HOLD IT AGAINST YOU.

Love, Mama.

xo

Trade Me (Summer) Lovin

In between cleaning a handful of my filthish house, working a paper hat into my ensemble and looking up gross things on Google Images, I had a sweet little package or two arrive on my doorstep today.

I'm the EXTREME cheapskate bargain slayer, so when these treasured vintage finds arrived for me, ME! I was completely delighted and surprised and romanced and massaged all at once.

They were not cheap, no, no, nor were they purchases I had made.

They came in plastic courier bags and were signed from a mighty manly Pirate that goes by the name of "One Tooth Van Horne" (so this place tells me) .... otherwise known as my hot Hubby.

What a Charmer!

I just love how he plays the "I'm gonna pretend I'm not listening to a thing you say regarding the stuff you like on Trade Me" card and then completely surprises me out of the blue actually purchasing the two very things I've dreamed over for the last like two YEARS!!!!

EEEE!!!!

(If they were food I probably would have scoffed and regurgitated them over and over by now).

All together now, "Awwwwwwww".

Thats my man!

I can't wait to throw Cats at teenagers with him in our old age....

Go and be awesome.

Mr Honey

Mr Honey is always watching

She's baaaaaack!!!

Well, well, well.... look what the smelly cat dragged in, a fatty that can't fit her pants anymore.

Yay to be back!

I got knocked up and vomited my WHOLE first trimester, hence the no show.

They should teach you that in Puberty class I reckon... that'd scare the kids straight.

No joke, I am at a weird in-between twilight zone space at the moment... nothing I own fits cause they're all too small, and none of my new maternity clothes fit cause they're all too big! Hello!! Can't someone please cut me some slack and just pretend to believe me when I say my jeans shrunk in the wash??

Speaking of which... lets briefly talk about Dan's pocket knife. It's a cute little thing, small enough to fit in the front pocket of his overalls without being too bulky, nifty enough to fit into the little screw to tighten the legs on my sunglasses, sharp enough to help out while assisting a Cow in Calf. Needless to say it's a very versatile tool, used for anything from opening an envelope, to cutting twine, to slicing an apple or even for cutting your pregnant wife out of a dress.

*Blink*

Not just any dress mind you. My favourite reeeeeally expensive cocktail dress. I'm one of those girls that knows what I like and what I don't like, eg. I don't like following the latest trends, I like individuality as much as I like the classics. And this dress was a Hepburn classic

*Blink*Blink*

We were off to a Cocktail party one Saturday night.

I was completely freaked out cause I had nothing that fit over my baby gut.

I got hit with the great idea to stuff myself into my favourite Hepburn dress.

I sucked the baby into my spine and got the hardest part hooked up, the eyehook at the top. Yuss!!

I then made my husband stop mowing the lawns.

He had to assist me in zipping it up the rest of the way as I was determined not to take my flesh getting caught in the zip as a warning.

After about ten minutes of sweating and panting and looking the eye of the Tiger square in it's... .. well, eye... we got the zip closed.

I was okay with feeling a little light headed and not being able to take in a full breath, cause being four and a half months pregnant could not stop me from looking fabulous for just ONE NIGHT... right? RIGHT!?

I was all made up and ready to go.

Bent to put my heel on when the zip completely popped.

I felt my lungs and skin suck in the relief.

I cried as if someone died, which then turned into wailing when I couldn't get the eye hook undone.

Dan appeared out of nowhere with his pocket knife in tow and shot me a look as if to say "Me Tarzan, you Jane, me throw you over my shoulder and we swing on vine off into sunset".

He saved my life and sliced the side of the dress open.

I was then so fed up I ripped the dress completely off down the side.

I regretted that decision immediately.

Laughing or crying were my only options.

Since I'd already cried and didn't want to ruin my makeup, I chose to laugh. Dan joined and reminded me I'm carrying a baby so of course things don't fit.

The scary aftermath:

Sorry Enrique Iglasias, but Dan can be my hero baby... and you should really stop singing that song anyway.

Well besides all that, I'm loving being pregnant. I love the little kicks I'm getting and that I finally have something to show for all these weeks of being energy robbed.

Let me tell YOU though... being Pregnant has NOT got me any special treatment whatsoever!

FOR INSTANCE

My Mum made a surprise visit from Australia and was booked into one of the Motels in town as she was planning to spend one day here and the rest in Auckland with the rest of our family. Deciding to stay with her we shared a room.

I grabbed the single bed and left her to the double bed.

There was a single bed and couch in the lounge that my two Aunties claimed.

So we were all sorted and ended up watching Sky in bed. Nice.

I drifted off into a beautiful and comfortable sleep with my pillow from home when I was abruptly awoken at around 2am by what sounded like Rhinoes being hunted and screaming in pain. Looking around I found there were no Rhinoes, only three 50 year old menopausal women snoring the night away. I closed the door to the lounge to faint the sound of both my Aunties going to town so I only had to deal with Mum.

I tried putting my fingers in my ears, I tried Mr Beans sock trick only it worked for him and completely did nothing for me, I even tried putting my pillow over my head risking death from suffocation.

Nothing was sufficient.

I woke Mum five times in five minutes to tell her she was snoring.

She apologised each time at least.

She tried to blame it on my Aunties and then tried to blame it on me!!!... ME!!!

I wished at that moment the Cops had a special division that deals with notorious snorers that have little to none respect for others, cause I woulda been all over that.

"Mum, I am WIDE AWAKE, I know the sound of snoring people in the next room as much as I know the sound of someone snoring right next to me. YOU WERE SNORING!".

She apologised again.

Drifted off.

Retreated to snoring her little head off.

I contemplated sleeping in the car, but since it wasn't mine and my Hubby had deserted me earlier on in the night, I settled for the only other option:

Yes Sir, that is the cold tiled Bathroom floor.

Since I don't really know how to end this entry, I'm going to tell you that I really need to go do my daily exercises when really all I'm going to do is sit on the couch, eat Icecream and give Dan the beats at Snowboarding on PS2.

Woo!