Strange Binge
While buying milk from our local shops, I caught sight of a pot of hummus.
Mmm, hummus.
Then there was some beetroot dip next to it.
Mmm, beetroot.
Next to that, some basil, cashew and parmesan dip.
Mmm, basil-cashews-parmesan.
So I bought them all, and ate about half of all three pots in a single afternoon.
Then I didn’t want them any more, and fed them to guests at the baby shower.
And that represents most of the vegetables I ate last week.
Baby Shower
As of today, I am in my third trimester (27 weeks), and have just squeaked under the three-months-until-the-due-date line.
Most people have their baby shower in the third trimester (to give themselves something to look forward to), but I had mine last Saturday (so I’d be in the best possible shape for it; so it was far away from Christmas; and so I knew where I stood in baby supply terms as soon as possible).
My nephew and I:
The weather suddenly turned perfect, and it was an idyllic scene on the covered deck of my parents’ house (this is my dad and dad-in-law):
The decorations were made by my sister, and one of my friends arranged games and prizes.
One game was that we each had a bracelet made of paperclips, and if you caught anyone saying “baby” you took one of their paperclips. Another was thinking up A-Z baby names (two points for every unique name), and the third game – by far the most popular – was decorating cupcakes. Much experimentation was had, and it worked really well for all ages.
Out of respect and pity for the older generations, the shower started with a game-free hour and devonshire tea. It was very pleasant. We had three relatives from out of town, so it was particularly good to have the opportunity to talk to them before the rabble arrived*.
Here’s my breakdown of the purpose of a baby shower, and how successful it was:
1. To celebrate something wonderful, and include friends and family in the happy event.
Highly successful.
2. So people you don’t necessarily see all that often can witness the mum-to-be’s giant belly (otherwise the entire birth thing seems highly implausible and, for Doctor Who fans, frankly suspicious).
Highly successful.
3. To give the mum-to-be something to look forward to when she’s feeling oh so pregnant.
Successful (although I was very sick for days beforehand in nervous anticipation, because that’s how I roll).
4. To help the parents-to-be financially.
Mildly successful. I had been telling everyone who would listen for months that we had enough baby clothes, but clothing still made up three-quarters of the gifts. Clothes ARE at least a practical present – but we honestly did have rather a lot already. (I had realised a lot of people wouldn’t recognise how desperate I was for certain non-clothing items, and had taken aside several close friends and not-so-subtley suggested specific items – so I had quite a good haul overall.) Three cheers for the various gifts of lotions, baby soap, nappies, etc – and a rousing huzzah! for the friend that did actually read the wish list I’d carefully prepared, and bought me a nappy bucket without me having to have an awkward “Please buy me this specific item” conversation first. Once I have a little girl to dress up in dozens of brand-new beautiful outfits, I won’t care that there are a few minor items we don’t have. I just wish I could make some kind of contribution to our finances, instead of swallowing them up on a daily basis. Still, I suppose I’m doing my bit to contribute to the family in a very literal sense 🙂
Today I bought two dresses from the Salvos that will hopefully see me through the next few months (my current wearable clothing is somewhat limited, and increasingly uncomfortable). That was a lot of fun. I also acquired a swiss exercise ball to help with muscle pains.
Great news – my hip and leg pain is definitely diminishing. According to my midwife, it was caused by a CHANGE in hormones, not a steady increase (which would have meant it was going to continue getting worse until the birth). So I’m in pretty good shape this week.
Random bad news: I received my final rejection from my American literary agent experiment. This particular agent came relatively close to taking me on, and gave me extremely balanced and useful comments – so after a day of self-pity I’m happily editing the steampunk novel ready to send it to agents in Australia.
Random good news: One of my best friends is moving to Canberra for at least a year, starting in June! She is several months ahead of me in baby terms, so it is an especially good time to have her around. It’s hard to think of any good event that could outdo her presence in my home town.
*You know who you are.
Do not ask for whom the fluff falls
It falls for THEE!
At around this time every year, parts of Canberra are inundated with flying fluff as hundreds of white poplars do their pollination thing. It represents torture to allergy sufferers, Christmassy delights to snow-lovers, and a dire warning to students at the Australian National University (since it coincides with the beginning of the final term of the year).
This incredibly silly article sets out to disprove the myth that “If you haven’t started studying when the fluff begins to fall, you will fail at your exams.”
Yes, clearly, some people don’t particularly need to study (English major, anyone? I speak as one who knows). Hard-hitting journalism indeed.
It is a time in Canberra that is particularly peculiar and thus particularly enjoyable. Here’s hoping Her Majesty (who’s popping by her most distant colony this week) doesn’t suffer from hayfever.
Baby Brain versus The Fuzz: Part Three
As regular readers will already know, I paid the annual registration for our car in May, but accidentally used the wrong reference number (because an old reference number comes up automatically in our bank system, and they can only be used once) – then failed to notice the lack of rego sticker in the mail because (a) The $770 fee was most certainly gone from our account, and (b) That was when I first became badly ill with this pregnancy.
Everything is sorted with the registration office, but the police chief’s representative said that, because the car has technically been unregistered all this time, we still have to pay a $1100 fine – or appeal to the Magistrate’s Court.
We appealed.
We now know that the Magistrate’s Court is an actual physical court that we will need to actually physically attend. CJ acquired some free legal advice, however, and we know what to say – I will plead guilty and ask for a “Section Ten” – basically, “Can you please let us off, because, like, come on pleeeeease.”
Sounds like a solid case to me.
Our present status is waiting for the official court summons, and hoping I’m not in labour or in China (we have a family wedding coming up next year) at the time.
A writing scam? For ME?!?!
A few days ago, I received my first ever personalised writing scam via email. Here is the full text of that email:
Dear Ms Curtis,
I am writing on behalf of a new international publishing house, JustFiction! Edition.
In the course of a web-research I came across a reference of your manuscript Worse Things Happen at Sea and it has caught my attention.
We are a publisher recognized worldwide, whose aim it is to help talented but international yet unknown authors to publish their manuscripts supported by our experience of publishing and to make their writing available to a wider audience.
JustFiction! Edition would be especially interested in publishing your manuscript as an e-book and in the form of a printed book and all this at no cost to you, of course.
If you are interested in a co-operation I would be glad to send you an e-mail with further information in an attachment.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Kind regards
Evelyn Davis
Acquisition Editor
Just Fiction! Edition is a trademark of:
LAP LAMBERT Academic Publishing GmbH & Co. KG
Dudweiler Landstr. 99
66123 Saarbrücken
Germany
Phone: +49 681 3720-310
Fax: +49 681 3720-3109
Email: e.davis@justfiction-edition.com
http://www.justfiction-edition.com
Register court/number: Handelsregister Amtsgericht Saarbrücken HRA 10752 Identification Number (Verkehrsnummer): 12917
Partner with unlimited liability/Persönlich haftende Gesellschafterin: VDM Management GmbH
Register court/number: Handelsregister Amtsgericht Saarbrücken HRB 18918
Managing directors/Geschäftsführer: Dr. Wolfgang Philipp Müller, Christoph Schulligen, Esther von Krosigk
This is a fairly simple scam. They don’t charge money up front, but will presumably gain that cash by offering me copies of the book – probably at a reduced rate. The sales of that book to the author are probably the only sales that will ever happen. Interestingly, the first book in their “catalogue” was “published” less than a month ago. (Never publish with a company less than two years old and/or one that has no successful titles.)
It is clear from the email above that not only do they not bother with editing, they don’t actually bother READING the books they represent. In fact, my “manuscript” Worse Things Happen at Sea is a twitter tale – all of about 1000 words. They list a large number of distributors (many of which are probably actually wholesalers, meaning that they STORE books, not sell them – I strongly doubt any actually “distribute” books to bookshops). One of the American distributors sounded familiar, so I searched Writer Beware and found this excerpt about it:
Now, one of the tricky things in this industry is that one of the major players, Ingram, is both a distributor and wholesaler. They have separate arms to handle each. But, per the descriptions above, there’s a vast difference on what they do if you pay them to be your distributor, versus merely having a listing with them in their wholesale catalog.
Unfortunately, a lot of small presses and POD self-publishing companies try to make you believe they have the distributor relationship when, in fact, they have the wholesale relationship. Since Ingram won’t reveal its client list, it’s hard to know which is which. However, I believe that right now, Ingram requires that a publisher that’s a distribution client must have about $20K+ of income from Ingram in order to qualify. If you think logically, would even PublishAmerica, the powerhouse of POD presses, qualify? Probably not. PA has the titles, but not the sales.
Kids, here’s the take-home message: There are a lot of scams out there (plus, to make things worse, some helplessly naiive publishers who simply don’t have the business sense to function). Never forget that. If someone approaches you with a wonderful shiny offer, they have a reason, and – I’m sorry – it’s very rarely because your writing is as good as your dreams. Often people are dodgy even when it’s you approaching them (setting up a web site isn’t difficult). If their books aren’t on shelves at your bookshop, they’re not actually getting sold – and yours won’t be sold to the public either.
Tattoos and Trimesters
It’s generally said that the second trimester is the good one. The nausea is basically done (for most people), and the muscle/bone pain and giant-ness hasn’t kicked in yet. This is my final week of “the good part” and I’m nauseous 90% of the time – and in pain 90% of the time (the same times of day, which is handy). The pain is very mild so far (except at night, when it’s quite bad), but – TA DA! – it’s going to get worse and worse from now on. And Louisette’s kicking is already painful sometimes too (but CJ has been able to feel the kicks a few times, yay).
Most women don’t take time off work in first trimester – but they do take time off in third trimester. That’s terrifying.
How bad is this going to get? How hard will it be to walk up and down stairs in my house? Will I get to the point where I can’t drive any more? Will I get to the point where I can’t pick things up when I drop them (I average one dropped item a day)? Will I run out of mental strength and turn into a horrible ogre?
You may have picked up that I was pretty discouraged last week. The last couple of days I’ve recovered to my normal self, and have started developing plans to deal with an unpleasant near future – mainly I’ll be considering the next two months as my functional, do-stuff, contribute-to-society times, and then planning to be pretty useless for the last month (which will probably drag on to six weeks, but at least my sister and her family will be here from 11 January, and CJ gets a holiday between Christmas and New Years’ Day). The up side of the third trimester physical issues is that they’re guaranteed to be OVER by two weeks after the due date (doctors would induce at that point). This means that I have a firm date to look forward to – and I can call in favours that don’t have that dangling “for a while” clause (which I know from experience is helpful to the friends’ fatigue levels – ever had someone come and stay at your house indefinitely? Same principle).
I have a few things to look forward to in the meantime – tomorrow I’m visiting the midwife, and this weekend is the baby shower (which I cunningly planned to have quite early, so I’d be in the best possible shape for it)!
Apparently most of the belly growth happens in second trimester, so (fingers crossed) I won’t get toooo much bigger (although Louisette currently weighs a little under a kilo, so she’ll more than triple in size – most of the pregnancy weight gain is the baby support system, which is already in place). In any case, before it gets even more terrifying, here are a couple of pictures showing my true size – and showing that my tattoo appears to be coping fine.
The first photo is pre-pregnancy.
First Birthday Party
The first birthday is always a curious thing, since the guest of honour is not going to remember it, doesn’t anticipate it, and is far more interested in wrapping paper than presents. But it means a great deal to everyone else.
At this particular party, we played pass the parcel, pin the spoon on the baby, musical chairs, and “guess the age in this photo”. Immaturity is rarely so appropriate.
Pass the parcel:
Baby Brain versus The Fuzz: Part Two
You may recall I was recently stopped by the police, and it turned out that although I had paid my car registration in full and on time (and marked it off in four different places – I know not to trust my memory), it had not gone through – so technically my car was unregistered.
Since then we have squared things with the RTA (with ease), but it turns out that the infringement notice I was given by the police officer at the time – the $1100 infringement order, which is more than I’ve earned in the last three months – still stands. The error was caused by an incorrect customer number – so I probably did screw up after all (this was just after we found out I was pregnant, and just before I became more ill and ended up in hospital on a drip because I was too sick to drink water).
To deal with the fine, I needed to email the police directly. I did so immediately, including the email from the RTA saying it was all cleared up at their end.
The police emailed back saying that the infringement notice stands.
. . .
Did I want to appeal to the Magistrate’s Court?
Yes, I did.
So that’s where we are now: waiting to hear back from the Magistrate’s Court. I’m hoping that this is simply a beaurocratic thing, and it won’t go any further. I’m particularly hoping we don’t need to front up to court somewhere, possibly pay legal fees, and end up paying the fine as well.
I THINK it’s a beaurocratic thing.
I think that, in Australia, you don’t get fined unless you’ve actually done something criminal, or harmed someone somehow, or failed to pay a fee (such as parking). Courtroom dramas are all very well in fiction – not so fun in real life.
I’ll let you know what happens.
Gifts for the apocalypse
As you are no doubt aware, Canberra will shortly be inundated by zombies. Is anyone even surprised?
By way of preparation for the coming apocalypse, my mother gave me a gift:
It’s not a weapon – it’s Aloe Vera, a living medicine. It’s good for minor burns (so VERY good for me – in fact I burned my thumb within days of getting this particular plant), is a mild antiseptic, and if all else fails it’s non-toxic (which, as everyone who ate crayons as a child already knows, is a synonym for “edible”).
To use an aloe vera plant, just cut off and/or slice open one of the leaves, and smear it directly onto the burn. For those curious about the taste, it is almost completely tasteless. (Sidebar: many many years ago, as a child, I overheard my grandmother talking to my mum about the many good properties of aloe vera, and she used the word “semisweet”. Thrilled at the idea of a new junk food, I immediately ran out to her greenhouse and ate a bit. It was extremely disappointing. Such is life.)
Another great zombie-ready plant is the willow tree. The bark is, literally, where aspirin comes from. Women chewed on the bark thousands of years ago to ease the pain of childbirth (it tastes awful, but at least you’d have pain relief options after getting a nasty bite in your arm from your zombified room-mate).
My long-term anti-zombie plan is to grow a variety of fruits and vegetables in my yard, and thus cover many of my important dietary needs (so far I have olives, lemons, and mint). I’d keep chickens for protein, but they smell – so I’ll have to turn cannibal*. Oh well.
This Christmas, don’t forget to analyse your gifts in the light of the coming zombie apocalypse. Tinned goods, edible plants, and weapons are the gifts most likely to keep your loved ones alive.
How are your own zombie preparations coming along?
*Obviously I wouldn’t dream of eating the cats. That would be wrong.
Baby sign language
I’m fascinated by languages in general, so I love the idea of teaching a four or five-month old baby a few useful signs to help them communicate when their hands are more coordinated than their tongues. Here are the signs I’ve learnt so far:
I am now twenty-five weeks pregnant, which means there are just two weeks left of second trimester. I’ve gained 1.5 kilos altogether 🙂 Thanks to that and to my height, my belly is pretty modest (considering), which means I’m not having any real problems with size.
I had a pretty big weekend last weekend (Thursday I had two whole hours of work, Friday I had people for dinner AND then we went to a movie, Saturday I was at Conflux for *gasp* two hours, and Sunday I had a family afternoon tea – all of which were apparently too much for me, faugh!) and crashed badly on Sunday night. So on Monday I cancelled everything and focused on just one thing: drinking water. Over the course of the day I watched TV, read books, watched CJ do chores, and drank as much as I could stand. That meant constantly updating my nausea (every time I felt okay, I drank more water and ruined it). Altogether I drank a litre and a bit of water, and maybe 600mL of milk. That really was the best I could do – and I was much sicker on Tuesday as a result. My body HATES water. Also, it made me so nauseous that I haven’t brushed my teeth since Sunday.
I would probably have been fine today, except I’m desperate to try and skip four ondansetron pills this fortnight (it comes in packs of ten, so if I succeed it means we only have to buy the $80 pack once per pay period), so I skipped it last night – which meant another do-nothing day today. It wasn’t fun, but it was fine.
I’m now getting a cramp or two each day, which may be a return of earlier ondansetron side effects – or the beginning of Braxton Hicks contractions (basically, fake labour). Either way, I have three and a half months more to look forward to. Awesome.
My left leg and the left side of my hips have been painful for four weeks now (as if I’ve overexercised, which I assure you is not the case). It hurts worst at night, which means gritting my teeth in pain every time I turn over (to the peculiar sound of clicking bones). On my 1-2 nightly loo visits the first few steps are a painful shuffle (as I clutch onto the bedside table for support). My right leg and the right side of my hip have just caught on and started to hurt as well.
This is caused by the hormone relaxin (which makes muscles go all loose and unsupportive in preparation for labour), and hip bones moving around (ditto). Which at least makes logical sense.
Pregnancy: the first two weeks are perfectly nice.
I remember saying, long ago, that my anxiety disorder was good preparation for pregnancy (because I’m used to chemical wackiness), and it actually is. I have seven years of practice of being helpless and housebound, and although I can rationally say that it sucks, in psychological terms I’m in great shape.
Strange but true. Despite all the physical and financial stuff, I’m still infinitely happier than I was last year. I can honestly say that life is good.
Tomorrow I’ll be brushing my teeth (and hair), seeing a friend (here), and teaching one student (here). It will be a nice day.
Felicity Banks 