Aegon

This week I have some fantastic news to share.

I had my halfway point ultrasound, and found out:

1. The alien seemed all anatomically there, i.e. the correct number of limbs, the expected shape, one head, etc
2. We are having a little prince. EEEEEKKKK!!!!

Though the first bullet point was pretty important, the second one is a headliner for sure. My family is a largely female dominated family (by number and by volume ... lol). So naturally, we are pretty darn excited by the knowledge that this little alien is going to be the first grandson ... on both his parents' sides of the family!

We shall name him Aegon. The prince that was promised. His is the song of ice and fire.

Ok, no, we're not really naming him that. I couldn't resist a geeky reference to the Song Of Ice And Fire books ;)

Could you imagine how Samoans would interpret and rearrange the name Aegon? Yea, exactly. I don't wish that on anyone. Let alone the Prince of Toamua himself. Lol.

Now to find out how on earth you change a baby boy's nappies. Eek.

A new low

Just when I thought I had cried at every stupid thing there was to cry at, I discovered today I was wrong when I found myself crying while reading birthday messages on Facebook. On someone else's wall. Because it was someone else's birthday ...

Thank you, hormones. Thank you very, very much.

Te real

I think this week is Maori language / Te Reo week.

Coincidentally, I received a call from a Maori network survey, which ended something like this (copied from my Facebook status):

So I just completed a phone survey for Maori language and media. Why do I feel like I failed? Lol. So I immediately turn on the Maori channel, and the first thing I see is that the news programme is called "Te Kaea". A'e.

I don't know what I was so worried about though. I just remembered that the Shadow speaks enough Maori on our family's behalf. I mean, she can count from tahi to tekau, AND she calls her developing sibling "Bubba".

Kapai, kapai.

We like to partay

That time of year is approaching again ... Lali Lady's birthday. And with it, of course, comes grand ambitions and plans for a party and cake.

Her royal highness had requested a princess themed party. My imagination ran wild, along with my Googling and Pinteresting, and it all started coming together in my mind ...

We would have a princessy bouncy castle. There would be a red carpet or some other royal entrance to the house, where the lounge would have pretty and delicate decorations. I would hire little furniture for the kids' meal and set it up all grand. There would a separate crafts area where they could make crowns or knightly swords. The conservatory would serve as the adults' retreat, where they could relax with some hors d'oeuvres (a.k.a heated sausage rolls from New World) and drinks. The cake would be a two-tier affair, one chocolate tier and one strawberry, made from scratch, not a box-cake in sight. I would learn to create fondant jewels and a tiara as toppers. All would marvel at my creative genius.

Yea right.

That plan has altered somewhat since I was kindly brought down to earth by my down-to-earth husband. The truth is, I will be a fat, nauseous, hormonal, lazy pig by the time the birthday rolls around (ha). Add the pressure of this grand party on top, and I would be a blubbering mess. So it looks like we will most likely settle for a party at an indoor play area, where you pay, turn up, party, go home. The End. So much simpler.

However, there is one survivor from the whole party revamp, and that is the cake. So I am now trialling strawberry cake from scratch, different frosting and piping techniques, etc. Exciting times! Next minute ... single layer "mud cake" from New World. Lol. Watch this space.

The cake my baby wanted, and will not be getting

Are you inertia?

My big baby now knows about the developing baby. We told her last week, when we woke up one morning to find her snuggled in between us instead of in her own bed. She is over the moon. She insisted that she stay home from school that day to await the arrival of her new baby sister or brother. Oh if only it was that quick!

Now that she knows what's up, she does random checks on my discomfort levels.
"Mummy, are you feeling inertia?"
"Yes, I'm feeling a bit nauseous."
"Ok, lie down and I will get Daddy to help you."

That's my big girl. She is relishing the thought of being a big sister. Her first words when she walked into daycare the next day, instead of the usual "Good morning", were "Baby in Mummy's tummy!" I guess she forgot the part where we told her not to tell anyone ...

And here it be. Our little alien.

Baby Tupou

Mouse dung

I am a bawling mess. These out-of-control hormones are causing me to cry at just about anything and at just about any time.

I'm already what you would call a "sensitive" person, so I have always been a crier. But this is a whole new level of crying.

I cry when watching TV ads.

I cry when I think of my 4 year old (like who does that??)

I cry when watching cheesy romance movies that I would usually laugh at.

I cried when reading this: http://thepowerofprayer.tumblr.com/post/40525128644/powerofprayer

I'm pretty sure I cried while watching the final episode of My Kitchen Rules.


Sigh. I fear that if any Damien Rice songs play on the radio while I'm driving, I might just be inconsolable and possibly crash the car.

I am reminded of a lady back in my wop wop village who cried at pretty much everything.Someone once commented, "Koe o le ki'o a le isumu e le'i kagi ai."

[Loose translation: "The only thing she hasn't cried about is a mouse taking a crap."]

I think that's where I'm at now. Just gotta find a crapping mouse to prove my suspicion.

Rebirth (of sorts)

Hello tumbleweed! I felt the sudden urge to blog today, then the urge to make a new start by creating a new blog to reflect the new person that I am today. The "urges" left me drained, so never mind the new blog. I won't even promise to reformat this one. If I have learnt anything during my absence from the blogosphere, it would be: underpromise and overdeliver. Not the profound insightful lesson you were perhaps expecting, right? I'm too old and too tired for insight.

So why the return to the blog world, I know this question is keeping you awake at night. Well, where else do I get to rant and rave and carry on like a lunatic, but here in my diary blog. And these days I have much to rant about, the main cause being the alien that has invaded my tummy (hip hip hooray).

Disclaimer
I just want to put out a warning: I am the most pessimistic alien carrier you will ever come across. If my mad rants will in any way affect your desire to one day carry an / another alien, then the next phase of posts is not for you. I completely blame the hormones and, of course, my dear husband.

To the next phase! *clink clink* Oh wait, nope, can't do that either. ARGH!!!