Blow, blow, thou winter wind

I’ve been sickeningly obsessed with  Christmas since July this year. Laurence has been caught somewhere between amusement and horror as I’ve enticed (coerced) him into buying presents from hippie stalls at music festivals and drawing up our Christmas card list. I haven’t always been this way. In fact, it’s characteristic for me to make the mad dash to the shopping centre for entirely unglamorous last minute hunting on Christmas Eve. So I’ve reflected on what makes this one different. Firstly, my parents are coming to England. If this is indeed one of the reasons my attitude has changed this year,…

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Boo vs The Creature

Laurence hates that I call our unborn child “the creature”. It apparently sounds like something gooey and mean out of Alien vs. Predator, nothing cuddly, cute or even human. First he suggested “critter” as a reasonable compromise but I inconveniently wouldn’t have it on the basis of it conjuring up the cast of Bambi for me, not at all reflecting the strangeness on my insides. Finally, he gave up and has taken to calling the baby “boo”, wincing whenever I refer to “the creature”. I fully expect my heart to break with joy at the sight of someone so tiny,…

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