The Man, the Worrier.

Things that have made me cry this week:

• the bank advert with the running horse.
• Nacho looked sad when I wouldn’t give him a second treat.
• Mr Starky moved the smoothie maker to a different plug socket. (This has been a week long power struggle)
• My Mam text to say she enjoyed the peanut m&ms I got for her.

Things that have made me angry this week
• Mr Starky has a cold (not the flu, it’s possibly a virus, but it’s definitely NOT the flu) but he is a hypochondriac. I left him medicine out, he didn’t take it.
• Next door parked a van in front of my drive briefly.
• Time. Because it has become glacial.
• Somewhere nearby a man had a bonfire, and the smoke blew towards my house, and he spoke, so the dogs barked.

So safe to say, it’s been a rollercoaster. He’s awake now, Mr Starky. He’s a right miserable moaning bastard when he feels ill. He would say that he’s not been poorly for over 3 years. You’d never know it, he never stops whinging!

It’s not a headache, it’s a brain tumour. He’s not pulled a muscle, it’s it’s a hernia. It’s not a trapped nerve, it’s sciatica. I don’t take him on. Not because I’m cruel (although I probably am) but because I have zero sympathy for self imposed illness. Most of his injuries stem from dicking about in the gym (although by dicking about, I mean excersizing)

This latest cold, sorry pneumonia, would have been gone last week had he listened to my advice. Taken a couple of paracetamol and a nytol chaser, blown his nose and gone to bed at a normal time on Monday. He didn’t. As it is, it’s stretched right through till Thursday so far, with no sign of it abating.

Although me screeching “Taking a vitamin C capsule and moaning that you’re tired isn’t going to make you better! I’ll shove these sudafed up your arse when you’re asleep if you don’t take them now!” As you can tell, I’ve got a fantastic bedside manner. Florence Nightengale eat your heart out!

He doesn’t help himself. So I lose patience. If he had done what I’d told him (which he today admitted was right, obviously!) then he would have felt better much more quickly! I’m especially lovely however at the moment, because I’m about 6 weeks pregnant and scared of getting ill! We are delighted, but keeping very quiet as yet!

So far I’ve been incredibly lucky, I wake up every day expecting to feel rotten, It’s not happened yet, but I’m waiting. I am made from methane though. As Mr Starky said I’m 90% gas and 10% sass. He got into bed last week and woke me up patting my arse, “babe, I think you’ve pooed yourself, I’m just checking!” I asked him what he’d have done if he’d put his hand in poo, he wasn’t sure! But that’s how bad I smell. My husband thought it was reasonable that I smelled so noxious that I’d shit the bed in my sleep.

Telling Mr Starky was about the most anti-climactic thing that has ever happened. First I had to wait for him to wake up, then I just sort of showed him the test. “Ovulating are you, babe? climb on then” It was a proper test, not a scrappy opk! “Noooo, I’m pregnant, two lines, see?” “Aaah, we’ll have to wait and see then” proving that he has not listened to a single one of my very interesting lectures on hcg levels!

So, knowing him as I do, I left it to sink in. And about 12 hours later he went “My balls DO work then, I knew they did! And you doubted me!” And then a day or so later, more to himself than anything “I’m going to be a dad…wow” I knew it would take a while but he’s made up.

And then he became super obnoxious about me doing terribly strenuous things like carrying a shopping bag, or bending over to stroke the dog. He’s got over that a bit when I explained that if he followed me around trying to be helpful then he wasn’t going to live much longer. What will be, will be!
So we’ve let in sink in for a couple of weeks, I’ve got my first midwife appointment lined up, I put off ringing as long as possible because im a superstitious weirdo! But, we shall see, I still maintain that if I didn’t know I was pregnant then I wouldn’t guess. But if my luck continues remains to be seen!

Either way, Mr Starky’s had a rougher week than me, I don’t know if that’s ’cause I’m much harder than him or what. I’ve always had a stomach of steel whereas he’s a bit more delicate. Poor lamb. But I’ve been otherwise lovely! He actually said “I think you’re nicer when you’re pregnant, it suits you!” So he basically prefers me with two people’s hormones that just mine, which says a lot about my attitude when I’m PMSing I think!

I’ve only been cross with him once when he got in from work at about 4am and started shouting me in a really panicked voice! I was sparko, so didn’t immediately answer, plus I was busy having heart palpitations from being shouted awake. “Wha?! S’wrong?!” He thought I’d had an accident. Why? Because the lights were on downstairs. “I thought you’d fallen down the stairs!” Sigh “If I’d fallen down the stairs, wouldn’t I have been at the bottom of the stairs? Where you were stood…shouting me?”

It transpired that I’d been sleepwalking like a champ. My favourite trick since I was tiny was to wander about and turn everything on, usually light switches, but occasionally the TV, the oven, the kettle. I’ll unlock doors and open windows. Get dressed/undressed. Hoard biscuits. And have no memory of it in the morning. I only really do it when I’m unsettled. So the house was lit up like the Blackpool illuminations. I’m glad Mr Starky didn’t catch me mid-wander, because I’d have scared the bejeesus out of him, he’s not used to it and a meandering zombie wife would have freaked him right out.

He’s now suggesting that we baby proof early, he means Starky proof. He’s absolutely terrified of me having an accident, slipping, banging my head, burning the house down etc. We are trying to wait till 12 weeks to tell anyone, but I have a feeling he might try and move my sister in full time soon. He’s not coping with going to work and leaving me, a grown adult woman, on my own for a few hours. I’m humouring him, I don’t think his nerves could stand me being stubborn at the moment!

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