Baby Baby

I’ve been a bit quiet on the blogging front lately what with getting married, going on honeymoon and starting my own business, you could say I have been a little busy and pre-occupied.

Married life is great but, in the six months since we said ‘I do’ something has changed and it is quite disturbing.  People have become obsessed with my womb, I mean totally obsessed.  Prior to marriage the only person who had asked so many questions about my  internal goings on was a  gynecologist and even that’s a lie, they don’t ask that much.

Prior to getting married I had always said I didn’t want children, not because I dislike them (which is the common misconception) just because pregnancy, eternal devotion, dealing with somebody else's bodily functions and pushing something the size of a watermelon through the eye of a needle  had never really appealed to me, oh and I’m quite selfish.  

When I used to tell people this some would give the usual ‘you’ll change your mind’ response, others would just accept it  and some, mainly those with kids going through the terrible twos would say ‘I don’t blame you’, but that’s all changed.  

No longer is my response adequate.  Now some people look at me like some evil person for denying the world of an extra person, because oh yeah I forgot we don’t have enough people in the world.  Others are still going strong on the ‘you’ll change your mind’ response.  Other phrases now being introduced are ‘you’ll regret it’ and ‘oh what about the journalist, you’re denying him’ like we haven’t discussed it and I’m just some heartless cow who has taken it upon herself to be the decider on all important, life changing matters, and my favourite, ‘but you’re 35’.  I’m aware that I am 35, I’m aware that according to the media that this means by now all my eggs have shriveled and died and I am barren but I feel quite strongly that should be nobody’s concern but my own.

My favourite of all lines though, which has been uttered by several people is ‘oh but I’d like you to have one’, seriously is this an adequate response given than none of these people would have to give birth to said child, look after it day in day out, change their life plans or have numerous sleepless nights.  Do they really expect that I am going to say ‘oh my God journalist stop now, we must go procreate as these people would like us to have a child.”?

So to conclude, babies have never been on the agenda but never say never, as my mum pointed out ‘the only way I can see you having a child is if you have an accident’.  Some people may find that shocking but it amused me as it was probably the truth and none of us can say we don’t know anybody who was an accident or a surprise as my mum likes to call me and my brother (accidents are horrible surprises are nice), some of you are probably sitting with accidents/surprises whilst reading this.

So, I don’t know what the future holds but what I do know is that if a baby is decided upon it won’t be because somebody else wants me to have one, it won’t be because I am getting old and time is running out and if I am honest it probably won’t be because I changed my mind.  The one thing I can tell you that for all the questions about my intentions the first person who will know of any change of heart or my need to pee on a stick will be the journalist.

Here comes the bride..... nearly

So, it's the eve of my hen weekend and how do I feel excited, scared and a little overwhelmed.  Overwhelmed that it is all coming around so quickly, but also overwhelmed that so many people have agreed to come along and help me wave goodbye to single life.

But not for me a traditional hen do of strippers, L plates and blow up penises?  No I decided to quote Cypress Hill that ' I ain't going out like that'.  I decided I wanted a classy hen do, well as classy as you can get in a house of 20 women in with enough alcohol to sink a ship.

 I have only four  fears not only for my liver but for other reasons:

1. Will the bridesmaids have ignored my request for no strippers and no L-Plates? These are all of the reasons that I don't usually enjoy hen dos and so the thought of getting confronted with all of these things are enough to bring me out in a rash, but I have faith in my trusty bridesmaids who have been working hard to make this happen that I am safe. As one of them said to me when quizzed about this "I am brave Becky but, I'm not stupid." 
2. Will I eat and drink so much that when I go to try on my wedding dress it won't fit?  This is a distinct possibility. Having seen the list of how much food and alcohol is present, and the fact that when drunk I am prone to eating things that are normally not on my list of good food choices. On the plus side my dress fitting isn't for a week so I can gym loads and if all else fails I can have the dress taken out and wobble down the aisle instead of my original idea of floating down with elegance and grace (elegance and grace are probably a bit beyond the imaginations of those that know me well, but a girl can dream)
3. Will I be capable of work on Monday?  Errr possibly not.  The looking like crap I can cope with, that's what concealor and blusher were invented to disguise.  The two day hangover is possibly harder to avoid and hide.  Worse case scenario I spend the day in a hungover haze and just smile politely and dream of getting home to bed.
4. And the big one.....Will everybody get on?  20 women, one house what could possibly go wrong?  What if this group made up of my favourite people all decide they can't stand each other?  This will not be good, on the plus side it is a huge house so people can easily run away and hide. If the worst comes to the worst I'll just drink through it.

Putting all these fears aside I honesttly can't wait.  I don't see it as my last night of freedom as that is a bit out dated and the journalist definitely isn't the type to get a ring on my finger and then chain me to the kitchen sink or lock me in the cellar, no matter how much he jokes about such things (well I hope it's a joke)

I see it as a celebration of a new beginning and who better to start it with than the girls I love most who are all going to be with me throughout what will be a fantastic future.

He liked it so he put a ring on it....

Well followers hell must have frozen over as I am writing this blog to announce I am getting married.  Yes me, getting married.  I never thought I would see the day.  Now don’t get me wrong this is not because I never thought anybody would want to marry me (I’m a confident , independent lady, I never doubted that somebody out there would be brave enough to take on the challenge of taming me).  

No, the shock comes as I never in a million years believed I would find anybody that I would want to marry.  I couldn’t quite fathom why anybody would want to commit to one person forever.   I always believed that I would end up with somebody long-term but the idea of marriage was enough to bring me out in a rash and possibly make me hyperventilate in the same way a claustrophobic would if locked in a cupboard.  Marriage signified to me, trapped.

Obviously this feeling had started to change as whilst I hadn’t spent months dreaming about ‘the big day’ or walking down the aisle, the thought of being with the journalist forever and ever certainly didn’t seem so scary as forever previously had.  

It was lucky that I had started to feel this change as a few days before Christmas the journalist took it upon himself and surprised me with a romantic proposal.  It was amazing, public, exciting and unexpected.  Even better the ring was present, beautiful and everything I wanted it to be (the ring is vitally important when you consider I will be wearing until death do us part).

I did wonder whether things would change once we were engaged and after the initial phase of thinking about how my new name would sound and having to silence people with their questions on whether my stance on having children had changed (jeez some people just don’t know how to let you enjoy the moment) I have had some time to reflect and say yes it does.  It changes things.  Not to the outside world and not even in the most obvious ways.

Now I know some of you romantic types will want me to say that since the proposal I have felt that I have found what I needed to complete me, but I won’t as that would be a big fat lie.  I always felt pretty complete on my own and I think that is partly what appealed to him.  I don’t feel that we are two sides of the same coin or that I have now found what has been missing from my life but it does feel different, both exciting and scary.

It is an odd but lovely feeling knowing that we’ve decided to be together forever and not just by saying it to each other but planning to declare it to the whole world (well in front of family and friends).  I also think it has made us closer, I guess we both now know that it is real and that we love each other despite him knowing that I am not a morning person, I’m messy and can on occasion can put even the biggest diva to shame and that I’m prepared to say forever to him even though he is always late, wears bad trainers and treats his dog like a human (something some of you will think is wonderful but I find weird and amusing in equal measure).

Other things that feel bizarre and not in a romantic lovey dovey sense are knowing that in a few months time when doing surveys I will have to tick the married box and that when men try and chat me up (I assume this will still happen now I am engaged) I don’t have to quickly take a ring from another finger and pretend it is an engagement ring, as I’ve got one.  

In other ways it is quite scary as it makes me feel like a grown up (yes I know I am nearly 35 but still I am 17 at heart and I am not sure 17 year olds marry 43 year olds).  It’s also scary as you wonder will things change, we both think not as we agree the whole reason we are getting married is to declare that we like each other just the way we are thank you.  The only change will be that when I get home steaming drunk from a night with the girls he’ll be there to help me get up the stairs and if he comes home cold from cricket or with a pulled muscle I’ll be there to make him a coffee or run him a bath.

As  Carrie Bradshaw once said and something I always believed “Maybe some women aren't meant to be tamed. Maybe they need to run free until they find someone just as wild to run with.” And the fact I have found my somebody to run with is possibly the best thing of all about getting engaged.

Arrrraggggghhhh I'm moving in with a boy

Well it has been a while since I wrote a blog.  This I must assure you is not for want of trying but has been caused by a combination of settling into a new job, learning to drive, going on holiday, spending more time with the journalist (mentioned in previous blogs in the form of a press release), seeing friends and good old fashioned writers block (not ideal in my line of work). 

Time literally has flown and getting half hour to write about it all has proved near impossible but, here I am. I'm back and with some shocking news.  Something has happened that I never thought would happen and always felt I would try and avoid at all costs...... I'm moving in with a man.

I know most people probably want to read about how it is all super exciting, romantic and that I spend most of my days floating in a little bubble dreaming of how beautiful I can make the house look and evenings spent snuggled in front of an open fire, but the truth is I am crapping myself, absolutely crapping myself.

Now when I say that,  I am not actually concerned about living with the aforementioned journalist as we get on great and after 34 years avoiding living with males in a romantic sense it is obvious I am not the type of woman who throws herself willy nilly into these things so I must be quite sure about this one.

But, there are a few things that scare me:

Leaving  My Flat
I love my flat.  When I brought it nine years ago it was my way of marking my independence.  At the age of 25 I was incredibly proud of myself at having the ability to buy myself a place without assistance from anybody else (well except for all the furniture contributions which were gratefully received), no deposits from the bank of mum and dad and not having to buy with another person to get on the property ladder.

The flat holds many memories good and bad, (mainly good but not to be written about here, as many would incriminate myself and others in ways we don't wish or need to be incriminated in now that we are sensible adults with jobs/husbands/children etc). The place has seen some good times, lots of laughs, some tears, all night conversations, as heard plenty of putting the world to rights and witnessed many a glass of wine being drunk.  It has been home to blossoming romances, broken hearts and much more.  It may not be in an area I particularly want to live and it may not be super stylish, but it's mine, all mine.

My Friends & Social Life
Obviously I am aware that my friends will still be my friends and I am only moving an hour away but gone are the carefree after work drinks and midweek dinners which I enjoy so much.  Gone will be the days of deciding that dinner on a Tuesday will be a good idea (as this will require an hours commute from the office, followed by an hour home), not something I fancy doing, especially in winter.


Space
This might sound crazy as I am going from a one bed-roomed flat to a four bed-roomed house, but I don't mean physical space I mean my space. A lot of people reading this may wonder what I mean as I am a very sociable person, but I am sociable when I choose.  Sometimes I like to go home not answer the phone, not answer the door and just chill.  I am now going to be living with a journalist, a teenager and a dog not exactly conducive to chilling out.

But, for all my doubts I know my flat will still be there (albeit with somebody else living in it -although I am trying not to dwell on that) and am having nine of my girlie mates round for a leaving meal two days before I leave to ensure that I leave on a high.

The friends thing, it might actually mean we see each other more as we will have to plan more in advance and having a bigger house means more of them can come and stay at once.

The space thing I am having my own dressing room and there are plenty of rooms so that will give me a bit of space should I need it.

And finally for all my worries I know I am making one of the best decisions I have ever made and am just viewing it as the end of one phase and the start of a brilliant, new, amazing adventure.

Valentines day. Romantic. Really?

Valentines day what a pile of pants.  I guess you would assume from that statement  that I am not a romantic and in some ways you would be right.  I like romantic gestures as much as the next girl, but I prefer them to be spontaneous and to me Valentine's day is a little contrived.  Yes flowers, chocolates and meals I love them all but I prefer them out of the blue rather than because it is the 14th February  and we must show the world we are in love.

Valentine's Day to me is a little bit like Chris de Burgh singing Lady in Red,  in that people like it because it is perceived to be romantic but really it is the lazy man/womans choice of romantic sentiment.  In my mind the day is akin to forced fun the very fact that your been told that it is fun sort of ruins it a bit.  The same with the big day of love the very fact that I'm told it's romantic removes the romance.

Also I feel that these big decelarations of romance and love are wasted if they're not shown all year round.  I mean surely anybody can be nice and flash the cash one day of the year, but if the rest of the time is spent arguing it all seems a little pointless.

Another thing is the cash, myself and some mates were discussing this at the weekend.  If my boyfriend went out and spent £60 on a bunch of roses that usually cost £20 I would be furious.  Not only because he has been ripped off but also because if he is going to spend £60 he should really spend it on some shoes or a handbag, things I really will love and cherish forever.

You're probably reading this thinking I am a bitter singleton  who is writing in fear of getting no cards, but you would be wrong.  I have a lovely boyfriend but it is early days (only six months in), but I find it more romantic that he buys me flowers becuase I feel under the weather,  gets me surprise ballet tickets even though he knows he will hate it,  does the washing up after I have cooked without being asked and  was willing to drive me to work on my first day because I was nervous even though it added an hour onto his journey.  That to me is romance and means far more than an over priced gift  on one day of the year.

Don't get me wrong, I have posted a card to show willing and also to protect against the fact that if he hasn't listened to my anti-Valentines protest he sends one I don't look mean and heartless.

So with all this in mind my boyfriend is away and  I will be spending my Valentines day at the pub with my mate and that suits me just fine.

There's a new girl in town

So, I have a new job. It fits all my criteria, it uses my PR skills, it is worthwhile (it's a charity), pay and benefits fulfil my needs and yet although perfect on paper it makes me have to face one of the things I hate. Being new.

I absolutely hate being the new girl. I am part way through my second week and am sure I spend most of my time looking like a rabbit in the headlights. I am failing make any points of use in conversations, as if I am honest, half the time I am not one hundred per cent sure what people are talking about and I am convinced my new manager is probably thinking “Oh no why didn't I stick with my first choice, candidate number two.” This is a feeling that has been repeated job after job after job.

Given I have had quite a few jobs you would think I would be used of the new girl feeling, but it can be difficult to get the balance between being seen as friendly and approachable without being over familiar. Over familiarity can be the kiss of death for any new starter. I remember a new girl in a previous job trying to get in on an in joke between two people and calling somebody by their nickname in a jovial (I'm trying to fit in) tone on only her second day. It wasn't well received and the over familiarity I am sure delayed her full integration into the team by a couple of weeks.

The other thing with new girl syndrome is that there is so much bloody information and everybody talks about the said info so casually that when I am not understanding it fully I start to suspect that I may be on the lower end of the intelligence spectrum. In reality in the 13 years I have been working I have had to get my head round the complexities of over 100 different childhood liver diseases, classic car insurance and the finer points of women's lingerie and how it fits to name but a few, but you forget how long it takes to learn the jargon and procedures of each business.

The final thing I hate about the newness is that deep down I always thing “Oh my God what if it is like this forever, what if I never meet anybody in the office who will chat to me about none work stuff.” This is a slightly unfounded fear on my part as in whatever job I've had I have always been a reasonably popular member of the team (even if I do say so myself). So, it is a weird feeling going from one day knowing everybody, having a laugh, knowing all the in jokes to suddenly being in a position where it is questionable as to whether people even know my name.

In reality I know that in a few weeks I'll be settled and it will feel like I have been there forever, but for now I am going to just carry on doing that smile, (you know the one that you hope makes you look approachable and friendly, but that you suspect might make you look like a lunatic) and hope for the best.

News Flash

Today's blog is no normal blog, in fact it is no more than a press release.  The new man in my life is a journalist and I work in PR.  A month or so ago he was telling me how good I was at PR-ing myself (I see no problem with this and think it is something we should all do more of).


In the name of journalism and as a little joke reminder of what a delight I am (he may beg to differ) I decided to send him a press release, all about my good self.  Please see below.


News Release

F.A.O A certain man

24^th September 2011

  

Amazing woman found in Birmingham

Rebecca O'Connor was today discovered in Birmingham, just generally being amazing.

The petite 33 year old was found to be living in a flat in Erdington.  Experts do not know how long she has been there but all agreed that she was a rare and precious gem to be treasured.

The ebony lovely is said to work in public relations and boasts many talents including being cute, hilariously funny, intelligent and great fun to name but a few.

Those in the know say that it is rare to find a creature of such loveliness and concur that it will be a lucky man that manages to capture such a wonderful specimen.

A doctor from the Department for lovely things at Birmingham University said: “We were delighted to come across such an wonderful find, especially so close to the city.  We have all been drawn in by her magnetism, she really is something special.  When she's around we all just feel generally happier and more at ease. 

“It is believed that many men have tried to lure her from her natural habitat but have failed.  It will be a lucky gent who manages to keep her for himself.  It is a pleasure just sharing the same room as her.  If there were more people like Rebecca in the world I truly believe it would be a better place to live, I am even convinced that she could even, given the chance, be responsible for world peace at some point in the future.

“I think we are going to see amazing things from this fantastic young woman.”

If you wish to see Rebecca O'Connor she can be viewed in  Erdington, Birmingham after 630pm most weekdays but appointments must be made for weekends, due to her hectic social life which is a side effect of being wonderful.

ENDS