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Thursday, July 21, 2005

Whilst Mr R is sunning himself on the beaches of Fiji, I am hacking up a lung every night with the worlds worst cough, which has followed the worlds worst flu. Particularly fun when you can't take anything stronger than Panadol. I am now losing my voice too - all the better for those that have to listen to me complaining. I have been wondering what the baby must make of these coughing fits, do you think they swim around thinking "Shut up!, just cough it up!"

Now, on to important matters of international interest, I have recently uncovered an interesting, um, thing, about the names of books here, as opposed to the US (And perhaps elsewhere). I know that they occasionally (and generally inexplicably) change movie titles here, compared to the US. Like that Jennifer Garner Thriller dancing movie about turning 30 overnight, we called "Suddenly 30" and the rest of the world called "13 going on 30". Go figure. But I had no idea that they did this with books.

This all came to light when I made a joke to the lovely Angela at Fluid Pudding about a "onesie" (again, we call these bodysuits) that I sent to her gorgeous little Harper, could be used a prop in a "Where's Wally" book (being red and white striped). And then she referred to something called "Where's Waldo" and I had to do an amazon search to make sure we were talking about the same thing. So the question is - Why? I mean can it really matter if the funny little glasses wearing guy is Wally or Waldo to all those Waldo/ly loving kids out there? Do Aussie kids just not understand that Waldo is a name? In these times when people call their kids Apple, I think everyone can handle it. It's just strange.

Speaking of books, I have just finished the latest Harry Potter, as I can't stay away from any sort of fad. It was, well, ok. No spoilers, but I can't help but be a little bit dissapointed that the baddies are always so bad, and the goodies are always so good, and Harry is always so right. Also, there is something a bit wrong with all the snogging, this can only escalate to Griffindor common room orgies in the final instalment. What happened to little innocent Harry?
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Thursday, July 07, 2005

Do you know what could be causing the alarming paint bubbling on the ceiling in the nursery? It seems as if it has been infested with a strange bubbling alien life-force, waiting for a delcious little baby to eat up.
I made Mr R climb up into the dusty old roof, to make sure there were no leaks and wet areas that would lead to a baby being crushed by a plaster ceiling falling on it's head. All looked ok up there (apart from some alarmingly large spiders), so the mystery deepens.
He does seem to have it at bay at the moment, with much sanding and undercoating and re-patching and more undercoating so let's hope it stays that way, or the baby could be fast asleep and then choke on flecks of paint. Unlikely as that is (the sleeping - not the choking). Do you think I am going to be an over protective, over reactive mother? Not that I should really be worried about the nursery, because we have yet to buy anything to put in it. We had an ante-natal class this week, where the midwife insisted we should all have our bags for the hospital packed. Hmm, I fail that one. I am in a denial phase.

In other news, Mr R is off to Fiji in a couple of weeks, to visit a friend before the baby arrives, leaving me at home on my lonesome. I am of course milking this for all it is worth, resulting in foot massages and cups of tea on demand. So the reason he will be missed will be the lack of tea and foot massages, I am looking forward to having the whole bed to myself and my twenty seven pillows.
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