Sometimes

some nights are like this
nights when a girl is reading a funny blog
when she remembers
all of a sudden
that it wasn't very long ago
that she was pregnant
with a much loved and longed-for baby
and the baby died
and no matter what she wishes for
her baby is gone.

It was a godamned cockroach!

There are things that I am neither physiologically nor psychologically equipped for. This (extensive) list includes:

10. Joining the army. For a start, I hear that yelling back at those blokes who get all up in your business is a no no.

9. Attending events where no alcohol is served.

8. Modelling.

7. Farming.

6. Pest Control.

5. The Olympics. But I swear to god the minute I find a sport that requires absolutely no effort, skill or talent, I'm in there.

4. Optimism.

3. Having the volume on the telly set to an uneven number. What? Of course this is normal. Well, within the bounds of normal. At least I'm not as bad as the flatmate I once had who could only watch the channels that were on prime numbers.

2. Poker face.

1. Finding a cockroach in the iron. See photo for revolting evidence of what happened at my house today:

Things that almost made it into my Facebook status updates this week

Sometimes my friends have no idea how considerate I am to them. This week alone I managed to (almost) stop myself from spamming them about my life via Facebook*. You, dear blog reader, have not been so lucky.

The 10 things I might have said on Facebook had some pesky sense of control not got in the way:

10. Remy is completely convinced that we do not drink cow's milk, instead we drink human's milk. It makes me picture human milking sheds. This alone is almost enough to turn me from flat whites to espressos.

9. Why was the farmer so specific about not shampooing the lamb? Why did he ban me from making her clothes? Does he give these instructions to everyone who looks after a lamb for him?

8. I don't have an attention span long enough to watch TV anymore. Not even the ads. What's next? That I won't be able to concentrate all the way through a blink?

7. Shut up body. I walked the 500 metres to the dairy. It wasn't a freaking hike up Everest.

6. Motherhood is not a good enough excuse for not showering. Ok, maybe it was when Remy was a screaming infant, but not now that the child is 3.

5. I have watched two rugby games in the past 8 weeks. I am the world's greatest girlfriend.

4. I stormed into the house of the people suspected of burgling my house and yelled at them. The Police have since reassured me that, while they are not the type of crims to stab me while I sleep, I should probably not do it again just in case. Good point Gov.

3. But the farmer didn't mention not painting the lambs hooves with pink nail polish... Megan 1, Farmer 0

2. When I casually mentioned to my mother that I was going to Wellington for the night while Remy had a sleep-over at a friend's house she gasped "But what if he wakes up? Don't do it Megan!" in the exact same tone she would use if I had said that I was leaving Remy with a pack of wolves for a week. In Christchurch. With no emergency survival kit. That woman never wants me to have any fun.

1. Looks like I'll never play Trivial Pursuit ever again. Boyfriend is a doctor and it turns out they have to know stuff. Like, lots of stuff. I'm pretty sure second year of med school must be entirely focused on memorising the cards from the Trivial Pursuit: Genius Edition.



*Is there such a thing as 'a little spamming'? Or is it like being pregnant - either you are or you aren't? If there is such a thing, then I did it. I spammed them a little bit.

5ives: The silver lining of unemployment

1. I can write anything I want on my blog and not get fired.

2. When people ask if I'm free for coffee the answer is always Yes, Yes, Yes.

3. Sick days are just like all other days... just with more, um, sickness.

4. It's almost impossible for me to put on weight because I can't afford the junk food required.

5. I get to watch my beautiful boy growing and learning everyday. Awwww.

What a difference a day makes

For a while there, I wasn't sure I'd get out of this alive. Things went from bad to worse, and then worse than worse.

All of that has changed. I'm so happy. I have a beautiful son, I'm dating a gorgeous man, and I have the dearest, sweetest, most patient friends and family. I'm a very lucky girl.

I'm so ridiculously happy that I can barely stand my own company.

In upcoming posts:
- Remy is about to turn 3.
- Turning a 5 buck jacket into a million dollars.
- Small town life.

If you come into the shop today...

I'll be the one wearing this in her hair.

It's been 2 months since the ripping-a-bandaid-off-at-high-speed ending of my relationship.

Does it hurt in the split second after the bandaid is removed? Because it bloody well hurts in the moments after.

I've been on auto-pilot until today. Just getting on with getting on and thinking of the million ways I could see the silver lining. And then I revisited this post on the blog of the darling, inimitable Sas. And, for only the second time since he left, I cried that cry; the one that leaves my stomach hurting, my face red and swollen, the one that gets the toxic ick out.

But this is good, right? It's good to grieve, to lament the loss of dreams and a whole world. Right?