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Vege no bowels

I've had a lovely weekend back in Hertfordshire visiting friends. I was supposed to go to St Marks in Harrow on Thursday but I was still in the middle of an energy hangover from Mondays trip into London for the pain management course and was struggling to get out of bed so I cancelled it. It's meant that aswell as having to rearrange that appointment I didn't get to see one of my dearest friends Kitty as I had planned to stay with her on Thursday night. And to top it off my roots are still awful because I had to cancel the appointment at the hairdresser too! I had planned to spend a few hours in the salon on the Friday getting spruced up and relaxing. Never mind. I have yet to find a hairdresser in Nottingham and it's not really at the top of my to do list at the moment so it looks like the roots will be staying a while longer. If I leave it long enough it might become trendy. Mmmm. Maybe not. 

I had arranged meet ups with the kids old school friends and their mums on Saturday so it was win-win. We all had a brilliant time and it felt as though we had only been gone for weeks rather than months. I sat there gassing away with them in my element and reinforced We had booked to stay the night in a local Travelodge but Bestie's kids desperately wanted my kids to have a sleepover at their house. But Bestie's baby is only 7 weeks old so I said no. Five minutes later, obviously after serious consideration of the problem I was presented with a counter offer of the 2 boys staying with bestie and the 2 girls staying in the hotel with us "because it's the same number of kids after all". So that's what happened. Big Fella stayed at Bestie's house and went to see his mate play rugby on Sunday morning while Big Girl had a girly sleepover and breakfast at Wetherspoons with us in the morning. It is so lovely to see how close the kids remain and how much fun they have all together. 



This is the den that they made together on Saturday evening whilst Bestie and I met up with the rest of our coffee group for dinner. We went to an Italian restaurant (chosen especially as it would be able to cater for the groups dietary requirements) and were having such a good time catching up we didn't even mind the hour wait to get given the menus! As I scanned the menu I decided that as tempting as some of the dishes were that I would stick to my New Years aim of not eating stuff that I know upsets my belly. The waiter came over (think an old Italian Danny DeVito) and was obviously a born entertainer. He laughed and joked with us as we ordered insisting that we order in Italian and teasing us as we ballsed it up. He ribbed my friend for needing gluten free pasta saying that he would have to go to Tesco to get it (which turned out to be true!) and tried to persuade another to have meat in her pasta dish despite her telling him that she was vegetarian. So when he got to me and I asked for the Tricolore Insalata minus the tomatoes he told me that if was no longer Tricolore and when I ordered a margherita pizza for main he was bouncing around telling me that I was boring and doing the whole 'Mamma Mia' Italian thing. Imagine the look on his face when I looked at my friend across the table and said "Do you want to tell him I've got no bowels? Or shall I?" I know it was cruel but we all found it hilarious and I was soon nicknamed Vege No Bowels, hence the title of the blog post. He soon got his own back on us by sending over the singer that they have on Saturdays to 'serenade' us! He thought he was Gods gift and even insisted on us taking photos. 


It was an absolutely brilliant night and I laughed so much. Proper belly laughs. I haven't laughed like that for ages and it really lifted my mood. But a night with Hubby snoring like a pig soon brought me back down. Sunday I was exhausted from having hardly any sleep and ended up having an argument with Hubby and turning into a demented woman. You'd think I would be used to getting hardly any sleep but watching him sleeping soundly while he's keeping me awake makes me so mad with him that at various points during the night I wanted to put a pillow over his head and hold it there, nice and tight! I'm sure anyone who sleeps with a snorer can empathise. 

After breakfast at 'spoons we headed back to Bestie's house and then went to another friends for the afternoon. I hadn't seen her or her kids for a while and another friend was there with her new baby. Being with all these babies makes me terribly broody. I could practically feel my ovaries aching at one point! I know that I can't have any more children and that even if I could that I'm sure the amount of medication I'm on would cause so many problems that even if it was born ok I wouldn't be able to look after it. Some days I can barely look after myself! It just wouldn't be fair to the kids to spread myself even thinner and because their childhood has hardly been ideal they need a bit of extra TLC and there's no way I could do that with a baby. But it still doesn't stop me day dreaming about it. I suppose I'm lucky that I've got Bestie popping out babies every 5 minutes so I'm never short of little ones to cuddle. Is it just me does anyone else find holding a newborn incredibly therapeutic? Not when they're crying obviously but when they're all tiny and asleep they are just so cute and I can sit holding them watching them do nothing but breath for ages without realising how much time has passed. 

Hubby and the kids left to go back to Nottingham late afternoon but I stayed the night at Bestie's so I could go to week 3 of the pain management course. In the mad rush to leave on Saturday morning I had forgotten to pack my TPN bags. Luckily I had some saline in my case but only 2 litres and I needed 4. To be honest I put the saline in because I had a feeling that I would forget to get my TPN bags out of the fridge and it's a good job I did! So I skipped Saturday night and had the 2 litres on Sunday night. It wasn't ideal and Bestie has insisted that I leave some supplies at her house so that they're there in case of emergencies. I just had a thought as I'm typing- I should have blamed the bad mood I was in on Sunday on being dehydrated- then Hubby couldn't have complained! Drat! Must think quicker next time. No good it coming to me 36 hours later is it??

So apart from the argument which I'm now pretty sure was as a result of me being dehydrated 😉 I had a really good weekend. And the week can only get better. We exchanged contracts on our new house so we should be getting the keys on Thursday! I can't wait and neither can my parents!! They've been brilliant letting us stay with them but we are all ready now to have our own space. Moving in, as brilliant as it's going to be, is going to present me with a whole new load of challenges and I must admit I'm not sure how I'm going to get everything unpacked with the level of pain I'm in and the fatigue that I'm currently experiencing. I know I can't go mad like I used to do and will have to take things slowly and just accept that the house will not be sorted out within a week or even a  month. And as much as Mum and Dad can drive me mad at times I'm really going to miss them. (They read this blog so I had better just say that they don't drive me that mad. Love you Mum! Love you Dad! You've got to keep the oldies sweet haven't you!)

The new house isn't far from my parents but after the 6 of us being in the house together for the last 8 months it will be very odd to suddenly find myself with no company in the evenings if Hubby works late and the kids have gone to bed. And who on earth will do all my ironing? I reckon I will have to sneak some of my stuff into my Mums ironing basket when I pop up for a cuppa. Do you think she'll notice? 

NB xx









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