Angry with the BBC and still prone to Olympic bouts of sentimentality

It turns out that the opening ceremony of the Olympics was bloody amazing. I am furious to have missed it. So angry I actually spent a sleepless hour fulminating at the BBC's highlights coverage, which showed us only about 10 minutes of fantastic opening ceremony, 10 minutes of crap speeches and boring processions of athletes, 20 minutes of footage on the British Olympic hopefuls (as if...) and a whole load of Sue Barker and other uninspiring presenters filling the rest of the time.

What makes me angrier, is that I could have watched it live, but chose not to, and also elected not to Sky+ it either, assuming that the highlights coverage wouldn't cut out any of the best bits. I am a BBC stalwart - I would happily pay double for the licence fee so I never thought I would say this, but... The BBC are Bastards.

Anyway, my blubcount is rising. I cried at the Olympics twice on the first day, once on day 2 and twice already on day 3 (a Russian and a Georgian hug on the podium - oh the poignancy). I am so soft it's humiliating.

Total Olympics blubdown

So I'm on the sofa feeding the bub and I flick the TV on to catch the Olympics opening ceremony, and I've only been watching for about 2 minutes and it's the usual crap, with some cute little girl on a wire doing some weird cycling movement with her legs, and some dude on a piano who is probably rather good, and a dove made out of humans and Huw Edwards wittering on and on and on and I start crying Goddammit. What is it with me and the Olympics? All that sentimental pap? Why does it always make me blub like the world is coming to an end?

Feel so dead today - is it hormones?

I was totally wiped out by 9pm last evening and I still feel like a total slug today. I also have one of those monstrous headaches. I've been getting them pretty much every day for the last fortnight and am popping paracetamol with alarming regularity. I guess it's hormones - dropping back on the night feeds and supplementing other daytime feeds with solids is bound to have an effect, which reminds me that the dreaded period is going to reappear one day, I just hope its not soon.

too tired and hormonal to feel happy

bf has gone to west country for his grandma's funeral.

will miss him muchly but he could really do with a break. AND i get to watch gray's anatomy properly for once (rather than in 5 minutes bursts when i can squeeze it in over the weekend).

i've felt very isolated for the last couple of days. the bf is acting like i'm not preggers at all - just getting on with things, in that uber-pragmatic way of his. and he's probably also just waiting till after the results of the first scan when we can feel more confident we're in the clear. we've also both spent the last couple of days wrapped up in our own private worlds, lots of stress at work for both of us, and it's been affecting us both. so we're both pre-occupied. and we're both tired. so they're all good reasons.

but i just can't stop thinking about how i'm pregnant again. and i want to share it all with him. and feel excited together. and nervous together. and i want him to know how i feel physically. and i want to feel close to him. and i want us to exchange those special looks that say 'we've got a happy secret.' and i want him to reach over and pat my tummy like he did last time.

but there's been none of that. just distance. and isolation. and irrepressible amounts of rage (hormone induced). and body shattering fatigue.

pregnancy sucks.

bad beginning to a bad evening

i'm so desperately tired. said it before. will say it again.

also feel like i'm barely keeping things together. don't remember feeling this knackered first time around, but maybe it's because having a lie in or taking it easy were options then.

had a shocking day yesterday. felt very tearful and depressed. work was extremely stressful - a lethal combination of exhaustion from my sleepless night and non-stop pressure trying to clear the decks before my working week was out. found myself feeling both extremely angry and unable to cope when anything held me up for so much as a few seconds. the tears started leaking out at one point. managed to stuff them back in, but only just. thankfully no one was around to see.

had a slight reprieve - bf called to say he would pick jambeans up. so i got to sweat it out at work for an extra hour. but the dizziness and nausea caused by sleepless night hit the minute i stopped, and hit baaaad. journey home was a nightmare.

got home. jambeans started screaming blue murder moment she saw me. purple face, constant tears, high decibel type shrieking. something obviously very wrong but god knows if we could work it out. she was inconsolable. finally, i settled on teething as the cause. kept looking to boyfried for back up because i wasn't 100% sure. he was adamant it wasn't pain for loads of good, logical reasons i can't remember. i got frustrated cos my gut was saying 'teething' over and over. but was most pissed off with myself for not trusting my gut. was hanging on by a thread at this stage. succumbed to deep, inner rage.

boyfried had been dealing with screaming babies all day and was also super stressed out. moreso than me. acopeia hit him first so mid shriek he said he couldn't deal with it anymore, put jambeans on the floor and walked away. never seen him do anything like that before. never seen him so much as a break a sweat before. freaked me out. no, later, it freaked me out. at that point - just felt resentful that he got a time out.

didn't go for long. returned to administer calpol. within minutes the bub was bubbling again. all smiles.

just felt completely drained.