Tag Archive | Matilda Hospital Hong Kong

SINGLE PARENT – My twins just turned 7 years old!

Hi all

This will be a brief (OK, maybe, not “brief”), albeit, probably, painful, dialogue (with myself), reflecting, on my twins turning seven years old. My third (and youngest), turns five years old in 2 weeks. I have three, THREE, kids under 7 years old….and I’m raising them pretty much, alone….Where the HELL did time go!?! My Mum warned me about this whole “Youth is wasted on the young” phenomenon. To be fair, I pretty much did everything I wanted to do before I had my babies. I studied, worked hard, travelled, lived, loved, survived….enjoyed my life. THEN…parenthood….

PARENTHOOD. Is this as “wonderful” as everyone talks about, or is it the reason I’m (pretty much) “worn” daily? Have I fallen into the trap of believeing, having children, would fulfil me?

Don’t misunderstand me…before those doing IVF or other treatment, kick off. I HAD IVF. I WANTED to have a family. I now, just question, well….”why”? Please do not interpret what I’m writing as anti-parenting/kids etc. I adore my children. I would do anything, and DO anything for them.

They are my joy, my laughter, my heart walking around, outside my body. Daily. I’m just stating….why, why why….did I feel sooo pressured to have children when, now in hindsight, I sometimes, feel pained by the road ahead.  This love you feel for your kids…its never ever ending. I worry constantly for them, cant sleep when they cant, cry when they do, feel happy when they are, sad when they’re sad…its (as a Mother) never ever going to stop.

This level of love….its beyond anything I’ve ever experienced in my life. And the WORRY for them every single day, and guilt if I feel I’ve let them down…well, that’s something I never understood.

I called my Mum recently, crying (as you do as a single mum daily…or NOT, if youre properly “versed” on this way of life, I actually never signed up for, alone), after arguing with my (then) 6 year old about our living situation and where we will eventually live once our old family/marital home sells.  The conversation was beyond anything I’ve been able to manage as an adult…. and I felt so sad, for my child, that I didn’t (as I often don’t) have the answer to her questions.

That feeling of wishing you cold have “done better” as a parent…its tough. My Mum told me I often sent her to bed (please NB. my Mum is like the Mafia so if she feels guilt…the whole parenthood is fkd) at night worrying and sad she’d “let me down”. But, she also said, that children need to feel “secure” in order to accept the hard road/rejection ahead. If they are secure, and know their parent/s are there, kids can conquer anything.

Last night, I went through old photos, emails, cards, basically my life, from 7 years ago. Its crazy  (almost shocking to me) how different my life now is. Something, and some new era I never ever expected.

However, the one constant, joyously (sometimes painful!) loving and unconditional component, that keeps my feet on the ground solidly, are my three children.

These little people, have shown me, unconditional support and love, beyond anything I’ve ever known in my entire life. And I have been loved, numerous times. And well. But my trio…my entourage…my brood…my crew…my cheeky monkeys….this crew are hilarious.

However, I/we created them. Their father and I were not quiet, shy, meek characters…so why would we ever expect our kids to be different?! If anything, we are trying to manage, a rather “lary” trio of cheeky, kids. When I get a call from the school, or pulled aside by their Teachers to tel me something one of the children did. DO you know what I feel? Pride. Yep. Pride. I LOVE that they have the balls to push boundaries. I LOVE that they trust me (and their Dad) enough to attempt to do stuff you shouldn’t at school knowing full well that we would be informed, yet have no fear. I Love that I (and their Dad) am trusted. I told them when they started “big school” to “enjoy their time, push the boundaries and know Mummy is always there”…..little did I know they would go over and above.

I feel proud and disappointed at the same time. Only disappointed if theres bullying involved. I am never a hater but my kids (our kids) know not to ever allow (or even witness, without stepping in, if safe to do so) bullying. I cant grasp that

They are loud, capable, street-smart, argumentative, kind, non bullying (we are VERY anti bullying in our household), charitable, open, loving, cuddly, talkative (we love a good Chat!!), but more than anything…human. This is my crew.

I am blessed to have these 3 little people who are usually (one or two of them!) in trouble at school, yet the naughty one, (AKA my only son) is placing toys and treats (or 1p coins) under his 4 year old sisters pillow because she wants the “tooth fairy” to come and see her (shes witnessed her older twin siblings getting a treat ONCE from the Tooth Fairy).

My son (the “naughty one“) does this amazingly kind, sweet gesture, nightly…. He puts TREATS under her pillow at night (every night) so she thinks the Tooth Fairy came. Every night that my youngest 3rd child mentiones the Tooth Fairy, her older brother, will place stickers, 20p from his own Money Box, lip balm (hes stolen probably!) …My point is….this son of mine…hes such a good lad. Yet, hes been flagged up at school for “bad behaviour” because my ex said he was acting inappropriately.  My Son, is kind, yes, cheeky, but no way near a “problem” like the kids I give lifts to from school on the way home. One boy tried to stick his finger inside my mums bellybutton (not bellybutton but I cant bear to even write where he attempted) on school grounds, yet HE is not being called in for anything. My son? Lets look at the facts.

Thanks to ex Nanny, my son is a child who has been “flagged up” at school for naughty behaviour). Thanks to constant prodding and poking, my own relationship with my OWN SON has been affected. My old Filipino Nanny (and her bullshit, letting my then 3 year old daughter walk out the house, leaving the gas on, not closing the door, letting our 9 month old almost drown….this is a WITNESS) as well as whatever is aired by the ex, has rocked my normal, natural relationship with my child. My son and I feel, almost awkward now, thanks to the bullshit that has been created during my divorce. He has been soo damaged by what has happened because he has been used as an exampleof my alleged lack of “attention”. ATTENTION.

My son, BTW, gets approximately 80% of my attention DAILY. This has been enforced on me/him/us….thanks to a nanny (who my son claimed tried to cut him with a knife/his own flesh and blood).

I had a meeting (with my ex) at my sons schools last year) where I told them they were “ruining my relationship with my child”. These lies and comments….they are maybe not intentional…but they are ruining my relationship with my boy. I adore him. Hes cheeky. Gorgeous. Kind. He adores me. We love spending time together as we are actually very VERY similar. But, he is being pushed into a corner where apparently I give him “no attention”, and he is a “problem” at school. Both untrue.

YET….Both, now, a problem for me. I’ve kept quiet for long enough.

Yep, the same boy who holds his little sisters head when she falls asleep in her car seat so her “neck doesn’t hurt” while I drive us home.

He does this EVERY time my youngest child falls asleep in the car. His twin sister? The “good one” and my “favourite“? She wouldn’t even notice or attend to her younger sister, who has special needs. Yet, my Son, who according to random stories, where in hindsight I cant believe I even accepted being questioned, is sooo kind and looks after her. He did from the moment my youngest came into the world. His words were she looked so cute and he called her “Pookey”. A name that’s (unfortunately for her) Stuck!

But my boy? The one they  are “monitoring” at school for bad behaviour because he said “bum”  or something along those lines. Its harming him more than helping. My poor boy has had (due to moment at school that would ordinarily be considered “cheeky” ie. saying “you smell”! to another child) has caused Social services/Therapists/Psychologists to stop in. The poor lad is overwhelmed and I’m actually, now, beyond accepting of him being torn down like this. All because of a Nanny and my divorce. All to try and cut monthly maintenance.

MY SON ….holds his 4 year olds sisters head in my car, while I drive home (during my 2 hour round trip), to stop her getting neck ache (because she “falls forward Mummy”) while I drive us home. My SON, whose head and body I used to hold for over 8 hours every night for months because he couldn’t settled in out new environment in my lounge in Hong Kong all night….MY SON….is being torn away from me, bit by bit. I’m a good Mum and I adore my kids. I haven’t changed when it comes to who I am at the core. My kids however, are being destroyed by this stupid divorce game.

My son…hes actually a very good boy. When I hear things hes allegedly done…I’m stunned because, surrounded by love, hes fine.  When hes upset….yep….he’ll react. But hes only a child. And that’s not me saying that as a typical Mum protecting her son. I’m pretty strict, yet kind, with my kids. They know they can come to me with anything. ANYTHING.  We even laugh about this at dinner time when my 7 year old daughter told me ” Mummy when you come into the playground, please tell X to stop smelling me”. I witnessed (on 2 occasions) my kids being bullied, and had to speak to the Teachers within my reach immediately before I harmed some idiot bullying child’s face, or their IDIOT parent for not stepping in to teach their child that what their kid is doing is UNACCEPTBLE.

These two Boys who bullied my then 5 year old daughter, were swinging my daughter around by her school uniform hood. I was waving goodbye to her at the time before these imbecile, joy riding (to-be), idiot, boys started bullying her. They didn’t know who the fk was in the playground.  They prompted me to cooley walk over (try to recall Legal jargon…being an ex lawyer n’ all) and tell these 2 idiots to “GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER NOW!!! WHAT ARE YOUR NAMES AND WHICH CLASSES ARE YOU IN!!”  My daughter was trying to push them off her and retrieve her hood. Adults though….?!  They were bloody EVERYWHERE. Why didnt they step in?  These idiot boys were 5 years old and shit themselves when I walked over and intimidated them as they attempted to do to my daughter. Did this stop their pattern? Nope.  Ive seen them STILL BULLY kids in the playground….until they see my joyous face….cowards. I keep telling my kids….”Bullies are cowards. Stand up for yourselves. Tell Mummy if you don’t feel safe!”. they know the drill. They also know, human beings should be kind. Bullies are “ cowards”.

But seeing my son this past week, doing things, no one has told him to do (ie. hold your baby sisters head when she falls asleep so she doesn’t get neck ache)….is pretty…cool. He is genuinely kind. I love that about him. I wish everyone would back off and let him be.

This morning, all three of my kids woke (my youngest has her birthday in 12 days but will be away this year, so I celebrated her birthday today, with her older twin siblings), to balloons, cake, presents, smiles, contentment on the way to school. One of my twins…AKA “Favourite daughter”, did a somersault into my bedroom at 4.30am this morning, smiling (always smiling…to be fair, she DID come out the womb like that), shouting (because she can not, at any point, talk quietly), “ITS MY BIRTHDAY MUMMY!!! MY BIRTHDAY!!! LET ME SEE WHAT YOUVE DONE IN THE KITCHEN!! OR HAVENT YOU DONE ANYTHING?!”

I woke, explained she was approx. 1.5 hours early, to sleep for a bit, and I would wake her when it was “time”. My daughters response? “OK. BUT, please DONT FORGET!!” As if I could…. 7 years ago I had twins. I was married. I was in love with life and what the future could hold. Today, I woke alone (I mean the only adult in my home), and tried to keep it together while I witnessed these little people, I’ve raised alone for 2 years now…get one year older.

I had my twins in St. Marys Hospital in Paddington (Praed st), London. The well known “Lindo Wing” who were beyond amazing with how they cared for me. I had complications during the C Section, and lost a lot of blood. But the Nurses, Doctors and staff generally were beyond incredible. I couldn’t walk without their aid for 2 days. Yet, not once did I feel insecure or judged while attempting to do basic human things like go to the loo…the medical profession (on every level, from juniors to Consultants) were absolutely mindful and instrumental in my recovery.

The Lindo Wing at St. Marys was not some plush, Four Seasons Hotel style room, as you would expect for £6000 (apparently the cost) a birth.  I gave birth to my 3rd child in Hong Kong and it was compulsory to remain in the Hospital, known as “Hotel Matilda” for 7 days. To be fair, I had just moved apartment with the twins and ex, tried to fight a legal court case with our old landlords and unpacked, before turning up to voluntarily be put to sleep before giving birth to my 3rd child (I was SHAKING from terror/fear/worry of giving birth the 2nd time round. I was Shaking so much, the Doctor suggested I be put to sleep. I agreed…I was terrified after being advised from 16 weeks that we had an issue with the umbilical cord and Baby no.3 could be stillborn. Imagine a whole pregnancy wondering if your child would be alive when you gave birth? and then your husband emotionally checks out, knowing full well, situation at hand. Oh, and then my Dad died. Cherry on the cake.) I had 3 days to recover from my C Section with my twins. 3 days….then I was on my own. Back home…with 2 babies…I made via IVF (apparently I should be “hush hush” about the IVF for reasons I don’t understand….If I can help anyone through IVF, I bloody will. It is definitely not for the faint hearted and a couple must be strong to survive that shit)….and I was scared to leave the Lindo Wing.

And the aftercare at St. Marys, in Paddington?

Well….again, it was managed and I was looked after beautifully. I felt cared for, despite feeling physically bare at times (someone helping you go to the bathroom or to sit and drink water), and emotionally exposed. This hospital is both private and NHS run. Ive recently read reviews on St. Marys and am stunned by “trip advisor” style comments. The nurses and Doctors I encountered were incredible. The job they perform, is beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. To be fair….the nurses who were there whenever I needed help, we beyond altruistic. I never felt alone knowing they were just around the corner. For a Nurse, to go and help someone go to the bathroom and HELP them physically hold bags of blood/fluid…and STILL smile and be kind to you?! This profession is NOT there to simply serve us. We need to appreciate that these are people, with feelings and senses, going home to their own lives, after a day with you. These amazing Nurses, at the Lindo Wing, who helped me when I couldn’t stand without losing copious amounts of blood (seriously, like a bucket of blood just to brush to stand and brush my teeth), would be so natural, and help me. HELP me. The only other person who would do this, is my Mother. Where was my then-husband? Not there. He was tired.

Me? I’m celebrating today that my twins are 7 years old. SEVEN. My youngest is about to turn 5. AND, I have been a single mum since they were 2 years old and 4 years old. No Man will ever define me, or my brood. I just hope, I keep up this super busy, hugely emotional (at times) biggest role of my life.

I will go back to work soon. Once all 3 are sorted. Until then?

Despite being under pressure daily (and nightly), I’m owning this amazing, sometimes totally soul destroying, role.  This crew of 3, that I gave birth to? I’m actually, beyond impressed with how much they have held ME up. Parenting is harsh. People judging you constantly, is harsh too. But fuck them, and do what you want to do. Those who judge, have zero life, and bullshit input. Good people don’t put others down.

Don’t be a hater. Although the Internet Trolls wont be able to help themselves..

For the single parents out there… You’re doing a FUCKING BEAUTIFUL JOB. And for those smug happy married bastards (I’m not bitter)/coupled up? You too are doing a fab job (we don’t hate you). Parenting is a whole job in itself. I love (& WANT TO MAIM), but LOVE, when people discover I’m a stay at home tortured Mum, then say to me, “oh, so you DONT WORK?!” No you fucker. DONT WORK?!

If you mean “not working” as waking up throughout the night, sleeping on the floor next to your childs bed when theyre unwell, washing thousands of clothes daily (despite them having friggin uniforms!?), being on call 24/7 for ALL your childs needs, having constant bullshit meetings with schools/doctors/therapists/ex husbands/idiots, attending playdates, parties, driving to the moon and back daily, washing toys, filling in projects, doing nightly homework, cooking, cleaning, trying NOT to kill oneself, as NOT a job….well you know what? YOU do my daily and NIGHTLY job. Tell ME HOW YOU FEEL AFTER ONE WEEK IN MY ROLE. Because I am being judged daily for allegedly NOT working. How do I go to work when I have sick kids, waking through the night, calls from school, no family that live locally, and zero support by way of a nanny?! WHAT JOB WILL EMPLOY ME?

I get 4 hours sleep (if I’m lucky) uninterrupted, every night, before one of my kids wakes me, feeling “sad”, or ill, or about something to do with my divorce. I have experienced, ALONE, nearly 2 years of this nightly waking up routine, then doing a WHOLE day of “NON WORK”, then the same Groundhog routine, because of a divorce, I didn’t implement/want. I am alone in managing this situation. I AM A SUPERSTAR. I have to keep telling myself this otherwise I’ll top myself!!!

There is only one proper rule to being a good parent. Be a good, kind human being. Your kids learn what they see. Teach them to be a kinder generation. Surely?

So….onwards and upwards.

My trio are going on holiday with their Dad and I actually get my only annual break (6 days) so I’m going diving, diving, diving.

I just pray my babies are ok, and this horrific, still stressful (despite the divorce) time, will eventually end. I am fed up of waking daily, worried about what the week will produce in pain, ex husband drama and general bullshit.

I want to be happy.  I DESERVE to be happy.

I am raising 3 children alone.  ALONE. EVERY SINGLE DAY. NOT WEEKENDS. EVERY SINGLE MINUTE. NO NANNIES. JUST ME.

I am almost amazed people attempt to pick a fight with me. But they do. Me. The Mother of 3 kids, who is running around daily, after her children.

What IDIOT picks a fight with a single Mum, who gets 4 hours sleep a night (if you are having a good night), drives her “mummy taxi” daily to cater for 3 little peoples needs, and has zero life?

 

 

 

 

Im home from the hospital….lucky me

What can I say?  I’m home.

Tired?  Yep. Dreaming of nothing but sleep & wine?  Yep.  Wondering how the hell I’m going to make it through the next few months…yep, yep, friggin YEPPPPPP!!!  Gina Ford was clearly on acid, or had a night nurse/rich Daddy.

The Captain keeps pointing out that I have “2 domestic helpers”  to assist with the kids. Can I point out that those “helpers” have burnt EVERYTHING, accidentally killed our goldfish “Dorothy” by putting hot water instead of cold in her fish bowl, let both my kids almost drown in Bali (until I jumped into the pool (4 months preg), forgot to turn off the gas, water, lock the doors etc.  Yes… I feel sooo safe leaving my kids with, well, two adults who resemble grown children.  Two Helpers does not a mother make.

For those of you who struggle with (a) guilt, (b) guilt, and (c) guilt for not spending enough time with your family … leaving your kids to helpers just isn’t a 24 hour option. Unless you want a totally spoilt brat for a child (which was not in the IVF/my life brochure), also, I’m fucking strict.  I’ve read sooo many books on parenting that its coming out my arse.

Be strict, don’t be strict, tell them “no”, accept “yes”….bla bla bla.  I recently had my son (aka “Satan”) walk from our car to our apartment without one of his shoes on last weekend (the Captain was repulsed & yet managed to bite his lip, despite his OCD when it comes to “dirt”) because my son insists on taking them off every car journey.  He also has selective language skills. ie. some days English, some days, nothing at all but he can rely on his twin sister to answer for him anytime.   My boy is lazy, manipulative and super bright when he chooses to be.  He also knows how to sort the weak from the strong .  He’s already done it at home with our Helpers and family which means, Im the only one giving him any discipline as everyone else falls for his doey eyed brown long lashes…cheeky genius.  Why do I have no patience with this?  That said, he’s NEVER taken his shoes off in the car since.  I have THREE brothers…. they all did the same thing.  Attention was needed all the time and I was left on the side line.

I’m also surprised at how quickly I fell in love with our new arrival.  I honestly thought that after months of feeling very negative while pregnant (apparently this was due to hormones to test my marriage & all those vows) which I have never EVER experienced, considering I’m a generally unbalanced weekend alcoholic (some days although this book I’m reading has curbed the alcohol. Disturbingly). I was worried I wouldn’t “bond” and would blame our new arrival for, well…. anything.  I read the book “We need to talk about Kevin” when it first can out…. I worried recently that I was going to experience the same shit.  Was I going to really dislike this child?  Did she ruin my life (although I hated HK already)?

I know when you’re pregnant, you’re body does crazy things and you feel tired. Once you give birth, you can feel very alone and absolutely shattered.  I look at the Captain sometimes, begging him to just “stay” with me when he heads off to work.  Something that would never happen were we at home in London. I’m clearly tired and I’m also aware of being on my own. My friends at home…well… they would know to just show up and keep an eye on me (thats having a history for you).   Living abroad is tough.  I dont miss London, but, I miss my girlfriends.

Anyhow, how had I forgotten the sheer exhaustion us new mums feel?  I swear I see rainbows and leprechauns most mornings when I’m feeding our new-born monkey, yes minus acid pills/magic mushrooms/any other pain killer.  I’m knackered at the best of times but now, bloody hell!!  I can’t even speak or leave the house, just because that would involve interacting with the outside world while I look like total and utter shite.  Tracksuit bottoms and X large T-Shirts are my wardrobe.

I dont want to brush my hair (good thing I got that Brazilian blow-dry on Groupon before I gave birth), I would like to brush my teeth (Captain insists on that one due to halitosis that has suddenly appeared), I dont want to get changed out of my maternity Winnie the Pooh night-dress (the only thing that fits me and, well lets face it, it’s fucking comfortable).  Also, I had a C section which means, I’m in AGONY at the mo.   Even with the drugs, which, if I’m honest, are not like the ones I could get in the UK, it’s not enough.  I think they regulate stuff here 😦  I’m tired, angry, twitchy (which means I want to fight non stop), nothing fits me (ie. maternity wear is too big and my old clothes too tight).  It’s really depressing.  I don’t know what I expected this time round but… well…. I expected to sleep & …. quick weight loss at least!

Too posh to push you think? Nope. Too terrified is more like it and as nature would kindly have it, if I were to attempt birth via the usual, alleged natural, route, I would be wearing sexy incontinence pants forever (stick that in your judgemental pipe and smoke it “Miss I want kids naturally. Why don’t you?”).  I’ve had discussions with some really annoying people who have asked me “why not give birth naturally?”

These are the same annoying people who want to give birth in a swimming pool with dolphins and sing songs about love every night to their newborn while sharing beds 24 hours a day, as well as saliva.  Fuck off!!  Errrr…. hello!  You’re the same women, BEGGING for an epidural when the reality of pain hits you!!  Miss “I want to do this naturally”, is suddenly, “Miss Give me everything you’ve got” when the shit hits the fan. Yes, I’m going to judge you. Cheeky sods.  Stop telling me what to do. It really annoys me…and, I’m sorry, BUT, you don’t make better mothers. You don’t. In fact, you’re the annoying one’s I’m praying my son doesn’t knock up.  That’ll be an interesting conversation as no one even knows how the THE CAPTAIN will respond. I’m, for the record…. NORMAL.

Seriously, how does anyone have the right to ask you how you chose to give birth? SERIOUSLY? How judgemental are you to ask?  And… really …. just piss off.  If I wanted to give birth in a cave, in Pok Fu Lam, (West HK – dont think there are any?!), with a yogi as my guide and a Domestic Helper to pull the baby out, who are YOU to tell me thats not right?  I swear, it’s driving me mad how EVERYONE has an opinion on what you should do and when you should do it.  Because their way is clearly the right way?  No it isn’t!! Nothing in life is the right way.  Just do it your way.  Always.  Fuck everyone else. They know sod all in any event.

What do I miss about my pregnancy?  Zilch, nil, bubcus, zero, niente… nothing!!   If you mean, do I miss feeling like a fat cow and arguing non-stop with my husband because I was being, and I quote, “disgusting”, then nope. I dont miss one second of this pregnancy.  The Captain told me I was a different person. Not something you want to hear when you’re going through a shitty phase as it is. If only men knew how SHIT it could be.  It’s a weird kinda life where you don’t care who you are anymore. Very odd.

What do I miss post baby?  The Matilda Hospital, AKA, the Four Seasons for new Mums everywhere.  This Hospital AKA “Hotel”, should be in every country.

I swear all mums should go and spend a week somewhere like the Matilda.  Somewhere where you order your meals, they take the baby away for feeding, and you get to sleep.  Ahhh… I was devastated when I left (as was the Captain when he picked up the worlds BIGGEST medical bill). Also, I met some lovely people by default.. especially the nurses.  There was ONE night nurse who quickly became my have.  This woman would turn up and offer me legal drugs without judgement. I LOVED her.  Some nurses do judge but not this one.  I have about 5 photos with her when I left.  Everyone thought mine was the crazy “tidy” room (I’m super tidy).  People would walk in and be like “Have you been cleaning?”…yes…I’m ashamed to say, I put my shoes away in a cupboard with my jacket and I put my stuff away.  How messy are you people?!  Seriously!!?

It’s no wonder the rich and famous have their kids there.  I’m neither but, its where us ex-pats have our kids dahling. Who am I to argue with that?  On arriving at the Hotel Matilda, we were given a menu on which room options I had for my 5 night package.  If I shared with 2 or 4 others, well, the bill would have been much smaller. BUT, the Captain, being the big girls blouse that he is (i wouldn’t have argued actually), said “No. You have your own room as I wouldn’t want to share”. I buttoned my lip there and then, looked at the twins and thought, “yeh…fuck it! I’m tired””. Also, I’m alone.  I felt that this time round, even with wonderful friends turning up to show me some love.  I felt sad. I wanted my friends from home and my Mum.  I’m clearly quite simple.

Let me give you an example of what I was missing after leaving …. view photos below before I continue my wonderful tale.

And photo number 2 of my wonderful bedroom.

And err…number 3…my club sandwich during lunch. What a wondrous, fabulous place this Matilda is…

The photo below is a my view from my BALCONY (hahahaaaaaa) at night.  I was in bed by 9pm most nights.  Bloody amazing.

The above is a daytime view which was sometimes sooo cloudy, you couldn’t see bugger all.  I didn’t care though… I was staying at the Matilda Hospital (& the now very poor Captain has the bills to prove it!) That said, people who live in the Peak must be walking around on clouds (literally).  The roads are windy, the views obscured by clouds and well, you’re miles away from anything.  Then again, I hate leaving the house if I can help it, so maybe it just felt that way.  Plus the morphine and various drugs helped me forget a lot of things.  Everyone, en route up to La Matilda (Le/La…I’m not sure which?), was walking a dog and had a Rolex.  RICH.

Anyhow, hopefully, you get the picture.  I spent 5 days in absolute Mummy Heaven (in fact, that sounds like a club I used to go to in Kings Cross where you did pills I couldn’t handle and went home in a cab you were afraid of).  Good times.  HK…I’m still not in love with it BUT, I will say this.  I’m now 35 (yes, old goat), and I still feel 25. I have 3 kids and thankfully a bloke I love.  He understands me and I LOVE THAT.

Baby No.3  WELCOME.

MATILDA.  YOU ARE WONDERFUL.

Legal drugs. Even better.  Nurses who don’t judge… you are my favourites.

ps. The Matilda… I lied when I said I needed more morphine.

3 days until I give birth at Hotel Matilda

How fucking exciting.  Oh and its the year of the Dragon which is hugely lucky in China (I was also born in the year of the Dragon but do not consider myself a lucky person).

BTW.. The photo above scared the crap out of my 2 year olds (as well as The Captain & I) when we popped downstairs to show them some “culture” on Chinese New year.  Even now, the Captain keeps waking, screaming, “man with a mask!! man with a mask!!”

Anyhow… I can’t wait to start Gina Ford all over again and am soooo looking forward to the sleepless days/nights, 3 hourly feeds, nap times, endless bottles, nappies filled with various colours of shit (yellow being my least favourite, along with the ones that keep on coming while you’re mid nappy change & resemble sausages).  And the lack of sleep!  Ahh… boy can’t I wait to walk around like a crazy, tired, unkempt Mum, dyyyyying to sleep…anywhere.  PLUS, my 2-year-old Twins have NO idea that life as they know it is soon going to change.  Yes, I’m so excited.  The excitement is seeping out of my every pore.

What will be my first port of call on having given birth?  A romantic dinner for two with The Captain?  Time alone with Itchy and Scratchy reading books and cuddling?  No. Sorry.  It turns out I’m a selfish bitch.  All I want, aside from a healthy child, is a big bottle of champagne (with a straw) just for me and maybe a quick call to the local dealer for a few ounces of class A’s.   Hey…I’m celebrating starting all over again and I need to do some things properly.  Not just that but after a year of non-stop Pilates, that body has now been beaten to shit and resembles a 50-year-old Northern pub Landlandys body after one too many Friday night Fish n Chips.  Depressing?  Hell yes.

Why lie and say “I’m sooo excited and screw what I look like?”   The truth is, I’ve found it pretty depressing looking more and more like a bag of lard as the months have rolled on.  No, I havent gained as much weight as I did with the twins (2.5 stone to be exact) but still, I personally find it hard going when the weight piles on without much effort.  Vain?  Yes, but I don’t care.  I’m a woman for fucks sake!   We are vain to a certain extent….unless you’re a raging lesbo with a crew cut and moustache (yeh, whatever, I’m generalizing).  I hate that I can’t bend down to put my shoes on, hence why I now live in my wooly sock Uggs.  I hate that my skin keeps getting breakouts (I’ve never had bad skin, EVER) and resembles a 13-year-old zit covered boys (minus stubble).  I hate that when I look in the mirror, a different person is looking back at me.  Pregnant women are beautiful?  Whoever said that is clearly a chubby chaser as I am not feeling one ounce of sexy or beauty.  In fact, I look and feel like total shit.  AND, for those women who ARE pregnant and swaning around the place looking all wonderful….please fuck off.  You are really annoying me.  AND stop showing me your flat bellies?!!! Why would you do this to someone who is clearly pregnant and suffering mentally!?

Excited about the new arrival?  Sure, once she’s here, I’ll be fine but until then, I’m going to keep moaning and boring the crap out of everyone.   I mean, I’m sooo bored, I can’t even be bothered to watch the Kardashians on E! Hollywood, go for a walk (apparently good for you when pregnant although I didn’t do this last time either), entertain myself with belly flops in the swimming pool, or even leave the apartment.  Hmmm…. maybe I’m depressed?   Nope.   I think I’m just missing being a drunken, happy, skinny Mum.  Now, I’m soooo huge, I can only wear stretchy tracksuit bottoms, bras that are 8 sizes bigger (The Captain is not complaining about the huge boobs though…surprise surprise)… the huge list on how unattractive I feel right now is endless.  The poor Captain keeps saying “I want my Wife back!” while I’m covered in sexy spot cream, looking like the grim reaper.  Oh, and just to add insult to injury, do you want to know what my supportive better half did a few weeks ago?  He RECORDED me snoring, then PLAYED it to his work colleague.  He then emailed me a link to this monstrosity, stating, “I think there was a Rhino in the bed last night?”  Supportive git.  I beat him with a wooden spoon that night.

Ok, so, another part of my character that has developed since I fell pregnant (and which I’ve mentioned in past posts), is that I’m angry.  Now, I don’t mean a “little angry”, I’m talking, fly off the handle, screaming, swearing like a mother fucker trucker, ANGRY.  I get sooo angry over things that all I want to do is shout, OR, cry.  Yes, the crying is also there. I can break out in tears at any given minute, even while shouting, eating three triple Big Mac & having chocolate… all at the same time (because I can multi-task).  The ONLY time, I’m still me (albeit a boring version as I’m sober), is when I’m with my little munchkins, Itchy & Scratchy.  They are the only ones keeping me sane.  Ok, so they don’t get they’re going to have a new sister but it’ll keep me entertained for a while, watching them interact with their new sibling.  Especially once I crack open that first bottle of white wine….

Roll on next week as Yummy Mamma is about to return ….. and she deeply misses her booze & skinny jeans.

POSITION OF THE WEEK – BELOW

I would call this one “Having a few too many on a Friday night…& inviting others for a “menage a quatre”.  Don’t ask me what the blue bunny is doing but it looks to me like the Tasmanian Devil instigated the whole thing.

Stresssssssss

Four weeks to go until the baby arrives and what am I doing? I’m moving apartments in 3 days to add to the stress as I clearly have too much time on my hands.  Not only that but the twins as well as our useless Domestic Helper (no.1, of our now 2 home employees) have come down with colds (well she gave it to the twins which really pisses me off).  Sooo, I’ve been packing boxes, sneezing from dust that appears everywhere, dealing with twins who wont sleep during the night as they are both bunged up with mucus (yes, I have slanted both their mattresses at an angle to help them breathe easier). 

All i keep thinking about is how much I can’t WAIT to stay at The Hotel Matilda ( AKA. Matilda Hospital at The Peak in Hong Kong).  I have already told family to stay away for the first month so I can recover and I’m actually looking forward to staying in the hospital to escape everything/one for a few days.  I need some SPACE!  I’m actually going mad not being able to drink with all this stress going on.  I’ve even started reading a book on HOW TO QUIT ALCOHOL (yes, yes I’m clearly  depressed) just because I’m worried that my drinking will return with a vengeance once this baby arrives.  I don’t know how else to remain sane otherwise doing the same thing day in, day out.  I managed to quit Smoking after being a 20 a day Silk Cut addict for over 10 years.  I never went anywhere without 2 packs in my handbag, especially if I was going out drinking with the girls after work.   When I read Alan Car’s book “The Easy Way to Stop Smoking”, I just thought I’d try it out for a laugh.  It was my final year at University and a friend recommended it to me. Well….. after reading his book, which basically tends to repeat regularly about the cons of smoking, despite encouraging you to smoke throughout, I quit smoking.  And didn’t miss it one bit.  Not even a craving.  Genius!

So when I mentioned to that Captain that I am reading a revolutionary “Stop Drinking” type book, he looked at me with worry.  Despite his moaning and hopes of controlling my substance abuse, I think he quite likes me being that crazy fun outgoing party girl, just to a certain degree (ie. he’d like me to stop when I approach the “falling over stage”).  I explained that as I may go nuts after giving birth to this third child, especially if I’m stuck indoors all day doing Gina Ford routines and having no sleep.  Someone asked me recently if I’ll breastfeed and I told them that “no, I wont be”.  It interferes with my entire life (drinking/going out/exercise/sleep/etc) and I can’t be stuck indoors for months boob feeding when I can bottle it and go out.  It didn’t harm the twins, so hopefully it wont harm Baby no.3, although our food and Baby Milk Formula costs will reach new heights once she comes along.

In addition, for those of you who do your food shopping in Hong Kong, you will be fully aware of the cost of milk, nappies, food, anything!!!  Everything costs triple what it does in London.  The Captain keeps moaning about lack of food, bread, cheese etc in our house.  The fact of the matter is, we go food shopping every 3 days and keep running out of stuff.  Plus our two Helpers can’t seem to work out that maybe they should purchase other things we need when they pop out, rather than get home and say “Oh sorry, we need Washing up liquid and eggs”.  I’m starting to lose my cool with them as I can’t understand how a person doesn’t think to put that sort of thing on a list.  I always go through the shopping list with them before one of them heads out the door and I’ll ask if there’s anything else we need.  The response is always “no we have everything”. But lo and behold, the next day we will need a whole batch of crap.  The kids are also addicted to yogurt and cheese which means buying these every 2 friggin days.

The Captain also complains about the quality of things we buy from the Supermarket but as I explained, if we go local, our shopping bills would be minimal, but I’ve no interest in eating local food or produce.  I want nice Juice, Cheese, Organic fish/Meat and Organic spreads. But this all costs double the amount.  Why can’t we just have a bloody Tesco here like back home!??  They even have one in shitty Thailand for crying out loud!!  Thailand also has Boots which I wish we had in HK.  It would piss all over Mannings and Watsons!

Anyhow, the Captain has also started a new line of non-stop moaning about the toilet tissue we buy, despite me explaining its only to wipe his precious arse with (plus I buy 2 for the price of 1).  His argument is that as he “works so bloody hard”, he wants something soft, ideally with Aloe Vera and quilted too, to gently wipe his bum (which is a non-stop farting machine all year round) ….I handed him our wedding certificate.

Photo taken from the site – http://www.porcelainpoetry.faketrix.com/