Week 18, Day 4 (My first Mother's Day)

The over-commercialisation of festivals was, naturally, in top gear leading up to Mother's Day. During one such televised onslaught, I grinned at Wayne, rubbed my belly and said "I've got my Mother's Day present."
"Baby?" he confirmed.
"Camera!" I corrected, in triumph of trickery.

He just grinned and said "Actually hon, I've got something else in mind." I thought he was being lewd and lascivious, but he really did have something very appropriate in mind. First up he bought me a new dressing gown, in sumptuous magenta polar fleece, which cleverly expands out to marquee size so even in the final days of pregancy, it will still fit me. Very well designed - you can't tell that it's got scads of extra space inside, just waiting for a reason to branch out.

Yesterday I was running around like a blue-assed fly in the afternoon (okay so it was hailing in the morning, and nothing was more important than snuggling in bed with husband and dog, with husband feeding me peanut butter on toast and me giving the scraps to the dog. Decadent and delightful, with sleety shit pelting down on the windows by our heads... dreamy!)

But the afternoon rolled around soon enough - time to haul myself out of the cocoon and get going for my afternoon appointments. (You work on Sundays when it's the only day you can catch up with busy clients... needs must and the devil drives, and all that jazz).

I got back around 5pm that afternoon, to find the house somewhat sparkling, dinner cooking, animals fed and a big cuddly welcome from my man. (Dog came with me, before you ask)

Not only had he done the dishes, picked up & put away stuff, done the vacuuming, done two loads of washing, but he had the new dressing gown and my favourite ugg boots laid out by my armchair with my knitting, and a hot cappuchino waiting for me. The dinner table was set with candles, the lighting was soft, and the parrot was for once, quiet (I think he slipped a little something in her dinner).

Dinner was marinated steak, with broad beans, broccoli, and baked kumera and pumpkin. (Um... hon, I hardly eat a cupful of food at tea time these days.. but I'll do what I can!)

Dessert was lime jelly and nectarine slices, with fresh cream.

Every bit was delicious, even the unusual concoction he devised for the steak marinade. I ate what I could, enjoyed every mouthful, and apologised ad nauseum for my limited appetite. Not his fault his child gives me a hiding if I think about invading her space with a full belly!

For mood music, I played him a very important CD.. there's a certain well known song that is the perfect middle name for Tadpole, if she's a girl, and Wayne couldn't recall the song I meant. Nothing for it but to play him the song, and let the lyrics tell him why this name is my pick. We've already got Tadpole's first name sorted (it's Rowyn for a girl, Rowan for a boy).. it was up to Wayne to find the middle name but he's coming up blank.
Cheeezzz.. how hard can it be ;-) The rules were simple - nothing starting with a vowel (I'm not having my kid grow up with initials like R.U.G!!), nothing twee, nothing ridiculous, and definitely NOT a name that has popped up in our blood lines before. Bad enough that Wayne is related by marriage to a bundle of Rowans' .. would you know it ;-) Names get repeated on both sides of my family so much that confusion reigns supreme.

Nearly four months later, Wayne still couldn't think of a single name he liked; time for Karl to step in and make some firm suggestions ;-)

I'll give you a hint.. if Rowyn's a girl, her initials will be R.R.G. Those that know me quite well should be able to put the pieces together (mother's a witch, name of a song..) and figure out Taddy's likely middle name should she be a She :-) No prizes will be awarded for guessing correctly, as some of you already know so it wouldn't be fair. Just guess for the enjoyment of it :-)