Party at my place!
Hey, I'm pregnant, I'm not past it! So we had a number of people over last night for dinner. So many, in fact, that in advance of their arrival, we had to buy another set of plates and cutlery! (granted, we only had 8 of everything before). Hubby and I each made a big pasta dish (there were lots of kids coming, so I did my dad's special macaroni cheese) and we got our guests to help with the washing up. All very civilized. The kids went home to bed and their mum came back over.
And then it was mentioned. Poker. Now, I have never played poker and don't know the rules. It is also a bit of a taboo in my house since the occasion early in my pregnancy when I was feeling too rotten to go out, and hubby went out to play poker and drink with these same friends and came back at 230am - and that only after an irate call from me. But I decided to give it a go and paired up with someone else to show me the ropes. We took out the scotch and lots of candy.
I got as far as game three. Avoiding the scotch, obviously, but going hell for leather at the Orkney fudge, I clearly "overdid" things:
"If I eat any more of this I am going to make myself sick... oh my god, I AM going to be sick..." and promptly ran off to keep company with Mr Gustavberg. Poor me. I felt too rotten to go back to the table and just went early to bed. They all stayed playing cards, which was what I wanted. No need for them all to go home. I wasn't going to go to sleep straight away, anyway, but I knew that if I didn't lie down I would keep being sick. My head had also decided to start pounding from the effort. It was only 10pm and I told hubby to try to wind things down about midnight.
After about an hour and a half, I rememberd I had forgotten to take my daily vitamin, so up I got to do that and popped in to say hello - and found they had drank about a bottle of my finest scotch! How unfair is that? They drink MY malt whisky and I am the one nursing the toilet bowl? Bah humbug! When the parents come on their multiple visits, they will have a couple of bottles of Orkney's finest added to the cargo of baby clothes.
On which topic, on a more personal note, my mum and I were obviously having the same thoughts. My mum's sister died suddenly when I was only 15. She was my godmother too and would have done anything for me, spoiled me rotten. I had been thinking about her and said to hubby: "I really miss my aunt just now; if she were here, she would be knitting like crazy by now and have bought up half of Mothercare." And my mum phoned the next day and said: "I was thinking about your aunt. When you were born, she knitted for you a beautiful wool shawl and I was wondering if you would like to use it with your own baby. Only if you want to, of course."
So that will be added to the cargo to come in May and July (what would I do without my mammy?). There is nothing more special that I can use to wrap my special baby.
Back in Iceland, domesticity is hitting me hard; I am VERY excited about my new tumble drier! I insisted that if we were going to have a baby, I HAD to have a tumble drier. So here it is. Lovely 6kg Ariston. With instructions in Swedish, Danish, Finish and Norwegian. And no, before you ask the obvious, I can't find an English or Italian (let alone Icelandic) manual online.... perhaps some of hubby's favourite sweaters will be added to the pile of baby clothes.
13
And then it was mentioned. Poker. Now, I have never played poker and don't know the rules. It is also a bit of a taboo in my house since the occasion early in my pregnancy when I was feeling too rotten to go out, and hubby went out to play poker and drink with these same friends and came back at 230am - and that only after an irate call from me. But I decided to give it a go and paired up with someone else to show me the ropes. We took out the scotch and lots of candy.
I got as far as game three. Avoiding the scotch, obviously, but going hell for leather at the Orkney fudge, I clearly "overdid" things:
"If I eat any more of this I am going to make myself sick... oh my god, I AM going to be sick..." and promptly ran off to keep company with Mr Gustavberg. Poor me. I felt too rotten to go back to the table and just went early to bed. They all stayed playing cards, which was what I wanted. No need for them all to go home. I wasn't going to go to sleep straight away, anyway, but I knew that if I didn't lie down I would keep being sick. My head had also decided to start pounding from the effort. It was only 10pm and I told hubby to try to wind things down about midnight.
After about an hour and a half, I rememberd I had forgotten to take my daily vitamin, so up I got to do that and popped in to say hello - and found they had drank about a bottle of my finest scotch! How unfair is that? They drink MY malt whisky and I am the one nursing the toilet bowl? Bah humbug! When the parents come on their multiple visits, they will have a couple of bottles of Orkney's finest added to the cargo of baby clothes.
On which topic, on a more personal note, my mum and I were obviously having the same thoughts. My mum's sister died suddenly when I was only 15. She was my godmother too and would have done anything for me, spoiled me rotten. I had been thinking about her and said to hubby: "I really miss my aunt just now; if she were here, she would be knitting like crazy by now and have bought up half of Mothercare." And my mum phoned the next day and said: "I was thinking about your aunt. When you were born, she knitted for you a beautiful wool shawl and I was wondering if you would like to use it with your own baby. Only if you want to, of course."
So that will be added to the cargo to come in May and July (what would I do without my mammy?). There is nothing more special that I can use to wrap my special baby.
Back in Iceland, domesticity is hitting me hard; I am VERY excited about my new tumble drier! I insisted that if we were going to have a baby, I HAD to have a tumble drier. So here it is. Lovely 6kg Ariston. With instructions in Swedish, Danish, Finish and Norwegian. And no, before you ask the obvious, I can't find an English or Italian (let alone Icelandic) manual online.... perhaps some of hubby's favourite sweaters will be added to the pile of baby clothes.
13
posted by ex_pat @ 6:20 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home