Escaping With My Life

It seems my problems with years and dates stems further than my own date of birth. I previously mentioned that I've been with my wife for almost 9 years in all, when in fact, it has been painfully pointed out to me that it is, in fact, nearly 10.

LM: Can you believe that we will be 2 years married in a few weeks.

Moi: No, pet, its amazing isn't it how fast time goes, and 9 years overall.

LM: Er...say what now ?

Moi: Say what now what, petal ?

LM: It's not 9 years, its 10.

Moi: Nah, it's only 9 pet.

LM: Tell me you are kidding or I'm going to disembowel you with a rusty spoon.

(madness ensues as I continue to claim its been 9 and not 10, and when the dust settles and the police have left, we continue)

Moi: So, 10 years eh pet ?

LM: You scum sucking, pig man half fool, tell me, how could you get it SOOOOOOO wrong ?

(at this point I wanted to point out that as an IT consultant, being just 10% out in timeline estimation is not all that bad, but I didn't, so as my heart raced into self preservation mode I searched the caverns of my brain for an acceptable response)

Moi: Well petal, when I'm with you, time goes by so fast, so enjoyable has it been...

LM: You rotting, festering crawler....

Moi: Upstairs then ?

LM: ...OK.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As an aside, I've decided I detest the template for this blog, but I'm loathed to attempt to change it.

...and more importantly, it's just about a week to 10 days before we have an idea if we've defied all that's good and rightous regarding genetics and procreation and been succesful in conceiving our own wee WGCB.

How to keep occupied till then eh ?

Moi: Oh Peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeetaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal.....

Monster With Green Eyes

I've hit a sticky wicket !
No, I'm not referring to the clean up following one of our seed sowing sessions (eeeuw, gross I know, sorry) but rather I'm talking about a battle of conscience I find myself in.

I (Indeed, 'we', lest I be accused of gong off half-cocked (again, no sordid pun intended))... I find myself longing for a child. In itself not a great problem, I feel a bit silly occasionally, not being a typically manly man thing to want, but, I know on the whole it's a good thing.
I'm approaching it sensibly, good home, financially stable, reasonably healthy, strong marriage, and a truck load of love ready to give away at no extra cost, and so on the face of it, no Wrinkly Goo Covered Blob could wish for a better environment to come into.

BUT... if or when we do have our own WGCB, it will be coming home to a lie !
I will of course set out to teach right from wrong and lead by good example, while all the time the WGCB won't be aware of the fact that it's dad has been consumed by jealousy in the very preparation for his or her existence ! Yep, the green eyed monster has snook (sneaked? snaked? oh, whatever...) up on me and given me a wedgie.

A good friend of mine was blessed with a baby boy this weekend past and another friend's wife is due to give birth in September, and while these are genuine friends, and I am honestly delighted for them both, in the last 2 months or so I find myself being ridiculously jealous of them.

Obviously as we are trying to conceive, my mind is more focussed on WGCBs than ever, and I find my gaze is being held longer and longer by passing families as I wonder how our WGCB would compare to theirs, but I simply cannot get my oversized head around this pang of actual real jealousy I get every single time.

Now my dilema is, if it were a new HDTV I was coveting, I could cope with the aftermath and simply ignore that 'conscience' but ironically, it wouldn't be a TV looking back at me, it would be a morally unblemished human.

How could I face someone that I wished everything good for, and would give anything to, in the knowledge that their creation came about amidst the ugliest of emotions...

...And worse still, if it were to have it's mammy's eyes, then I'd really be f***ed.

Green Green Fingers & Other Stories

It's rare enough these days to feel a sense of achievement but right now I do !

I've mowed my first ever lawn at almost 30 years of age !
Yes pathetic as it is, up until about 3 hours ago I was a mowing virgin.
But no more ! hurrah.

In similar fashion to one of those sitcom episodes where they just seamlessly use clips from old episodes to fill the time I find I feel the need to appeal to DorkyDad and to DooDaddy ! Don't forsake me my good men for my outing of myself as a 'non-fan' of Harry Potter. Of course within hours of my declaration both announced here and here that they and every sane person on the planet , are.

I also want to say Hola ! to Dondi Tiples who has a great blog over at http://donditiples.blogspot.com
Thanks for popping by, and leaving the good luck message, I too hope we conceive soon, otherwise this blog will descend into nothing but a collection of smutty doing-the-squishy stories that I'm sure I, my wife or anyone with the abilty to read and a human stomach will not be able to handle. Keep up the really good blogging.

And finally, A big congratulations to the now fraudulently named expectant father on the birth of his new baby son. All the best to Baby, Mum, and Dad.

We will now return to routine programming.