well guys, i have taken some experienced blogger advice and relocated to a better host site.

www.sweetness-and-life.blogspot.com

not leaving just changing!
enjoy x

i was meant to be in suffolk this afternoon but unfortunately find myself completely over come by a cold and streaming with nastiness. I thought that a high temperature and runny nose was horrid, i thought that waking up 3 times a night to feed a baby was equally as trying.. i then combined the two, oh my, words do not describe.
So i find myself on house arrest and thankfully am feeling a little better this afternoon, i have decided to use my solitary confinement wisely and have been sorting through photos of the plum to frame/album/bin. Being ridiculously obsessed very little have made it into the bin pile and i am beginning to wonder if others will be quite so interested in seeing 187 photos of essentially the same thing, hmm. perhaps i will keep them private, for the sake of my social life.
Ibiza was meant to call me yesterday with the results of the DNA test. Foolish i know to imagine he would actually stick to an arrangement and not surprisingly i have heard nothing. i can only conclude from this that he has either A) not got round to sending off the test yet B) has sent it off with returned results showing him as her father. I have called him but his phone is off, quite like his heart then. Even my councellor has told me to take him to the cleaners (which if i think about it would suggest her techniques are a little sketchy, great, neutral is so last year) hmm.. what a to do, the man makes me feel like a parlour made chasing him up for ' nothing fancy like just a penny for the child if you please sir'. perhaps she is right and i should stop being so fair and just crack on with the serious stuff or perhaps I should give up all together. he makes things very hard.

as good timing would have it i was in tonight watching face to face the documentary hosted by trout pout, she reviewed the industry and it's easily available qualifications and the pitfalls of dodgy fillers. I must say it wasn't so much the research that put my off my impending botox appointment next wednesday but more the sight of the poor womans still grossly enlarged top lip. Despite my previous name calling one can't help feeling a little sorry for her. not because she has destroyed completely any shred of attractiveness but that she would still consider having a face lift after all she has been through. one can't help but conclude she still has serious issues and personal dis satisfactions. I always though the fact that she defended that nut skull husband of hers around the MSRA episode, claiming her injuries were caused by rough sex instead of another beating quite pitiful. We all know that collagen wasn't the only fat lip she'd ever been given. In fact far be it for me to spread gossip but J, back in his flashy days spent time with said meat head and recalls him spending many a night with escort girls and the like. Beatings, escort girl, facial disfigurements oh and your last big roll being in 'where the heart is' 10 years ago. my god the woman deserves a hollywood film deal not a one off hour slot on ITV2, hmm...i count my blessings.
On a rather more personal note, my tenant being the lying cheque jumping rascal that she is has failed once again to pay her rent. arggg i hardly slept last night through anger and have given her her marching orders. i appreciate this may be a rather impulsive move in such financially unsettled times but can bear her nonsense no longer. So if any non smoking/pet owning/noise making peeps out there fancy a relocation.. i'm your girl.

for the first time in about 9 months i woke up with a bit of groggy head this morning. I won't go as far as to call it a hangover but it was defiantly a little hazy. This feeling of unbalance makes me rather nostalgic for the old days and i can't decided if it makes me feel a little excited to re live my old boozy ways or truly grateful that these days i have an excuse not to down the pinot quite so rigorously every weekend and so have to contend with said head on such a regular basis. i would like to add also that all this comes, these days, from half a bottle of wine. light weight.
myself and a friend hit the bars of camden after another friend very generously offered to mind rita for a couple of hours, it was quite lovely to take a break for the evening and i am very grateful to her for offering herself up for this job. She herself has been a 'single' mother so i can only imagine she realizes that for no matter how short a period of time, a little bit of space to breathe now and again is priceless and does my head no end of good, to feel like a woman in high heels for a bit and not just a mother. that being said i did start to miss the plum a couple of hours into the evening. don't get me wrong, it didn't ruin the night but it did strike me as funny how much a part of me she has become. i'm don't know where i'd be without her now.
finally i am watching wife swap tonight and it turns out i know one of the couples on it. They run a small label like myself and had a stand at the clothes show next to me last year. hmm... i wonder if you get paid for the exposure, perhaps i'm not the only one in the industry struggling right now.

urgg thank god the task of doom is over and i now have a new car. I re tracked on the original idea of the over priced and way too complicated golf and decided on a honda jazz, fabulously uncool and much more my cup of tea, the mileage clock and petrol dial are that big i can't help but wonder if the car was originally designed for the blind, but then realize on reading the top gear car review web page that said make is a big hit with the over 65's due to it's simple layout and reliability, fantastic who needs sat nav and climate control when you have radio 2 and specially adapted seat belts, rock on terry wogan.
Having this lifestyle problem now resolved has brought me no end of joy and i feel quite smug at my efficiency despite having to get my tits out in both car giant and the DVLA office i am now well wheeled and ready to cruise.
On another note and in memory of my old life i have been chatting on line to boys tonight. I am yet to re join any dating sites of any importance but instead have replied to a few messages from toyboywarehouse, a dating site my friend set up a year or so ago and one i occasionally peruse as my membership is free. Although very much disinterested in anything remotely resembling a toyboy i have decided that a bit of cyber flirting will do me no harm and is good practice for when i get back on the scene, i have had to change my profile to kids: 1 but apart from that it is nice to know that the old dating game hasn't changed a bit and although feeling like i haven't flirted since the last millennium i can still do it, and boy does it beat spending the night with auto trader.

Ibiza has just come round with his dirty little DNA test. he made me feel sick with anger at his flippancy and casual attitude towards my daughter and it took everything within me to not tell him to fuck off away from us both.
So we did the test and i have entrusted him with it to be sent off, on the condition that should it come back negative i will insist on a re test, such is my confidence in his involvement.
god he makes my blood boil, i spent the best part of the evening staring at the tv, after all whats to be said according to him he may not even be the father so why make chit chat with a stranger. he should be so lucky to even be blessed for a second with an angel like rita in his life. At least she has me, and my friends and my family. people that will love her unconditionally and always. According to him the novelty wears off with kids the more you have and come the fourth it's pretty run of the mill stuff. Well not from this side, what a funny concept that love is then essentially limited and what a great deal that says about his upbringing. Who says that getting sent to boarding school at 6 years of age makes for emotional issues, he is so text book it's unreal and so full of 'good' advice for ritas upbringing, not too many cuddles, bed by 7 in another room, controlled crying for at least half an hour...i would be interested to meet his children, a dare say they are as functional as him. So now i'm going to bed with my perfect beautiful baby by my side and actually wonder, after all is said and done, what i want those test results to be.

so after 6 hours of looking around car giant yesterday i have finally settled on a new car. Against all my better judgment i have spent i huge amount of money on a new motor with the promise it is safe, reliable and easy to sell on. i am loathed to part with such amounts on an item i have very little interest in and am bound to ruin within the year but needs must i suppose and so i am sufficiently out of pocket and considering moving into the said car on a full time basis in an attempt to get some monies worth.
As small compensation i have part exchanged my old peugeot for the handsome sum of 600 pounds. And i am due to swap them over tomorrow. How then, can it happen within the space of 24 hours that i walk down from work this afternoon to see some selfish bastard has reversed into my side door rendering it now concave and significantly decreased in value. I am going to take my chances in the swap over tomorrow and act surprised when they point out the new damage to me and offer me 100 quid for the car. I am considering reminding them how poor the market is at the moment and remaining unbudged in the pre car vandalized offer but am rubbish and bartering and am so over the whole car thing now I just want to wash my hands of it. urgg, this country!
I also find myself tonight,as an alternative to watching the peter and katie repeat, watching 'the sex education show' (yeah like tell me something i don't know.. in fact i take that back, do tell me...where to get it) apparently the average number of sexual partners a woman has had these days is 10. alrighty then, they clearly didn't do their survey in camden.

I am back from suffolk after another weekend with Pa. these are always nice, if a little intense at times, as most know by now i find myself a little claustrophobic for too long in those there rural parts added to my complete inability to not gorge on penny sweets through my whole stay i am, it has to be said, happy to be back in the smoke where i can breathe in pollution and eat watermelon.
J joined me this time and despite a long talk last week about the amount he is drinking i picked him up on friday un slept, changed or sobered from the night before, he had been out with his new best friend Amy (yes that amy) and when amy calls everyone jumps regardless of liver condition. The girl, by all accounts from the photos in yesterdays papers is an absolute wreck. J insists that she's not that bad in real life and in actual fact just went back after her 'shambolic gig at the monarch' to play the guitar with one of the members of babyshambles J and a few others.. oh and about 3 tonnes of coke, very low key i must say and i do fear that he has lost sense of normality amongst his hedonistic lifestyle. I do worry for him and fear he may end up on a drip in an attempt to keep up wit these crack heads, in my day 4 am was a bloody late night now that's seen as a quite one, jesus no wonder the NHS is stretched.
talking of celebs, the lovely jordan was wearing another love you longtime top tonight. Having finally figured our how to work my TV i now have the luxury of ITV2 and indulge myself with brain mush such as peter and jordan and the xtra factor....who says having a baby makes you gaga.

I must declare my undying love for H&M. not only do they sell rather nice jeans but their sizes are way of target and i now fit in jeans only 2 inches bigger than my pre pregnancy ones. way to go. Despite insisting that i was not going to buy anything until i could fit back into my old clothes i eventually, after 9 months of wearing black leggings gave in and bought a couple of skinnies yesterday, they are only 30 quid so i figure that when i shed the excess ( and i will, yes i will) i can bin them. on the plus side they look good and i no longer reek of a woman previously with child on the minus they are so flattering i almost don't feel compelled to push myself much further..either way it's defiantly a step in the right direction, i am once again half human and in a moment of financial blow the credit crunch madness even treated myself to a pair of new uggs. Well fitted jeans and cosy sheepskin toes, heaven personified.
with my spirits somewhat uplifted i decided it was time to take action and join a new gym. i have opted for a rather pricey but ever so well equipped one a short distance from my house. It has a creche, good facilities, a pool and fit men. perfect.
The only disadvantage being, a rather over zealous manager, whom, on siting the pram insisted on spending three quarters of the introductory session telling me about his wife's long and bloody labour. Why pray tell, do people think that just because you have given birth you are interested in the workings of every other woman's vagina, i've said it before and i'll say it again.. men.

I have grown, over the recent weeks, to loathe breastfeeding. Despite several texts from various friends notifying me of the documentary tonight about cross feeding i am increasingly reluctant to absorb myself on anything surrounding the subject. Of course i fully enjoy the idea that i am bonding with my baby ad giving her the best start in life but honestly I have never felt quite so exposed in my life. Suddenly my boobs are center of attention and conversation everywhere i go. On meeting a friend in a cafe last week, no sooner had i sat down and i was cornered by the 'breast in best' brigade and found myself amidst yet another lecture on why it is best for my daughter that she remained tit in mouth for at least another 3 years. I would also like to add that said gestapo where exactly as you'd imagine. hairy and ugly, urgg i fear that if i do not remain alert at all times before i know it i will be drawn into the flabby boobed milky nippled circle never to emerge skinny jeaned and manicured again.
On the subject of the documentary and quite against most peoples opinions i would gladly let another woman breast feed my child. In fact i see this as the perfect solution. healthy start for baby, body back for me ( and by the way, the old 500 calories a day burnt of when breast feeding is bollocks too...another lie the earth mothers feed you to get you to get your tits out) As it is for the time being i am tied to the sofa and do intend to solider on. Once this is over though i will treat myself to the most lovely plastic perky pair of fake tits the world has ever seen and sunbath topless outside fresh and wild, winter maybe upon us soon but these babies most certainly won't be heading south.

to add insult to injury last night when ibiza boy was due to come and see rita he cancelled, using a hangover as his excuse of choice this time. Apparently he and the sloane ranger had a rather heavy night and he couldn't manage a trip across the capital. Along with being not the least bit surprised i was also actually quite glad, it gave me the perfect opportunity to let rip and i think that now much of what has been on my mind has been said and fingers crossed we will be seeing some form of progress.
I am bored with his crap to the point of tears and in actual fact it is a rather calming state of being. Allowing me to put aside my niceties and get straight to the point. I did make it clear that his private life was no concern of mine however i would prefer in future he perhaps considered his choice of social venue a little more wisely before he went out. the words shit and doorstep may have been mentioned.
And so we are due to see each other when, and only when he has got his act together to get the DNA test sorted out bearing in mind it is his big request. He wanted to come round tomorrow but i questioned the point given that according to him the parentage is so sketchy and wouldn't it be better we waited until facts were facts before we got out the wok and cosied up to coronation street. honestly he can be such a tosser at times.
On a more positive note i met friend J in a pub yesterday afternoon for a quickie he was with a few friends and despite being dressed in a tracksuit and pushing a pram I found myself flirting for the best part of the afternoon with one of them, the chemistry was quite evident and although it was a fleeting moment of silliness it felt great to fancy again. Having quite successfully numbed myself to the potential and idea of any feelings of attraction in recent months it was quite reassuring to feel that despite having been deep in hibernation for a while the butterflies were still there.

OH.MY.GOD.

I haven't been out for a good few months now, let alone have more than one glass of wine. So when a friend offered to baby sit last night i seized the opportunity to throw on a pair of heels and enjoy a few dry whites on the town. Myself and cousin N thought that as our bar choices were limited to camden and most of the pubs in the area are full of nemos or whatever they are called we would have a few in gilgermesh a swanky bar that is obscenely expensive but quite smart. i only had a couple of hours so didn't mind remortgaging for a glass of sauvignon.
I walked in. sat down. and realized that directly ahead of me was none other than Ibiza boy with a girl!!!! the guy lives in west london what the hell is he doing in camden??? to say i was in shock is putting it mildly and my instant reaction was to run until curiosity got the better of me, and myself and N couldn't resist but plot up in the corner to survey the situation. About an hour into operation Balaric he paid the bill and stood up to leave. And i thought it only polite to say hello. Ibiza nearly passed out and i put on my biggest smile and chit chatted with his beloved. I couldnt resist mentioning that this was my first night out in a while given that i had just had a baby, but being in a generous mood i spared them both the awkward moment of telling her that her boyfriend was the father. Apparently they were off to a fancy dress party and had come to camden to get costumes. It is interesting to see that he can find the time to buy wigs and comedy moustaches but can't find a moment in the week to sign his daughters birth certificate. We are due to meet tonight, an arrangement made before last night. I would put my money on him cancelling now god forbid he did anything as reliable as stick to an arrangement with me when he clearly as other such pressing events to attend. A man with such gentlemanly priorities.. i sure know now to pick em'.

so now i am really confused. after ibiza behaving like an utter tit over the last couple of days, ie. showing little interest in rita and even less respect for me. He texts me tonight saying 'hi there, hope you and eliza (the loathsome name he calls rita) are well, are you about tomorrow night, how do you fancy i come round and cook you dinner, say 8ish? lots of love'
Now is it my wayward hormones but is the guy on drugs? i have as yet declined a response, partly because i am too tired and sick of his bullshit to muster up an adequate reply and partly because it takes 3 days to text on my broken phone anyway so i can't be bothered. I am very keen that he understands rita will always be here for him to spend time with but have also become rather determined that this mess around comes to an end and maybe it is time i called the shots re. the friendship situation and he understands that i am no longer prepared to put up with his sporadic nonesense.
On a happy note the plum was officially acknowledged as a real life human being today and rita rose is now finalized on her birth certificate.. with not an eliza in sight, the day he starts to behave with some manners is when i will take his suggestions seriously but for this one he has missed the boat and my beautiful girl is called rita and that's that.

Someone said a lovely thing today. A friend who is pregnant, whom i met for lunch on friday, emailed me to say that she thinks i am managing really well and thinks it's great how relaxed and 'myself' i still am, i can't think of a nicer compliment and it has greatly encouraged my parenting opinion of myself. It is difficult to scale yourself as a mum and i don't think despite popular earth mother belief that it comes naturally. everyday i feel like i am learning new things and practicing how to nurture the plum. The instinct of complete love comes naturally.. as does the instinct to put them in the spare room and dig out the ear plugs at 3 o'clock in the morning, i thought it was a cliche that new mums sit in a dark room in the middle of the night crying, until i did it. All that aside (and that we spent a jolly few hours in the pub today) i wholeheartedly take her compliment on board and am glad that on the whole i am finding the whole experience pretty grand and not too stressful at all.
I am slightly saddened however to accept that it really will just be me signing the birth certificate on tuesday. I try to be up beat about it and remind myself that legally i fare better by being the sole signature but deep down i'm a bit blue for rita that her father has more pressing priorities. It is because of this that i am nearing the decision to continue our contact by more official means. I really hoped that it wouldn't come to this but need to put my daughter first and am pretty exhausted by chasing him up for every little thing. i pride myself on not being the needy/nagging type and resent the corner he pushes me in. I will never stop him seeing rita but have come to accept it is unlikely we are ever to become firm friends. there is only so much respect for a man who uses a 7am - 9pm business meeting with no lunch break as an excuse not to return a phone call. Rita may have been born a month ago. i certainly wasn't.

I went for a run today and it was A blooody Mazing i had forgotten how fantastic it is to just run run run and it has done a great deal to encourage my enthusiasm to regain my figure. I just about squeezed into my old running gear, although my sports bra is now 8 times to small for me still it did the job and gave me some idea of what a jog may feel like with my much fantasized about boob job. I have decided i don't want bigger boobs just firmer ones and nipples that don't point south... i wonder if one can request a nipple reduction, hmm well if a fanny tidy up is possible than surely anything is an option.
thankfully rita has a lovely granny and 2 fabulous godmothers to take her off for an hour or so and i am hoping to manage 3 or so runs a week, this time next year rodney this time next year.
It is a blessing in fact that i do have the option of de stressing by means of a run as it seems i will certainly need it if bloody Ibiza has anything to do with it. i phoned today to see if he had managed to organize a DNA test that HE requested and surprise surprise he hadn't, leaving me, once again to sort it out.He asked that i postpone the registering again, i told him to forget it. he also had the nerve to ask me if i had got rita into any sort of routine at bedtime yet, and i delighted in telling him that no, in fact i had positively encouraged her to sleep next to me every night and hoped she would do so until she was 5. So it looks like as expected, i will be the sole signature on her birth certificate. I am a little sad about this but then think actually i was nothing short of foolish to even think he would do anything to accomodate mine or ritas plans. I have tonight found a place on harley street that does one hour tests, giving him the final option to work with me on this one, the test costs 2 hundred and and fifty quid, i hope he brings his inhaler that might just finish him off.

I am back in london again thank god thank god. My endurance for fields seems to be getting shorter and shorter and 3 days was more than adequate. I was verging on a mini breakdown on the way back yesterday. Just when i thought we were hitting the road, Pa, whom i was giving a lift back to london, thought he heard a clicking sound in the car and insisted we called the AA, i was fully convinced it was nothing to worry about but rather then get into a debate about it went along with his suggestion and waited and waited and waited, arggg! the AA man finally turned up and told us that in fact there was....nothing wrong with the car. And breathe.
This little event saw steam from my ears and made me consider that in fact it may be a touch of fatigue and delayed crazy hormones encouraging such irrational irritable responses, and i felt a little guilty after I'd snapped at Pa for the 8th time. That being said i was close to collapse last night and thank god plum slept through until 3, dear god there may be a light at the end of the ever waking tunnel.
I am a little thrown by the bank holiday and forget that we are half way through the week. Last time i spoke to chris he requested that we delay the birth registration in favour of a DNA test to which i reluctantly agreed on the condition he sort it out. Being wednesday he now has under a week to do this, and it is my guess that just like everything to do with his daughter it will not be head of his to do list. I have heard nothing as yet and am preparing myself for yet another no show. my patience with AA men and selfish pricks is running very thin and i hope for is sake he doesn't let us down this time, everyone has their limits.

I had a really sexy dream last night about first love. In fact i have been feeling rather hot quite a lot lately and i dare say the sudden sexy D email yesterday didn't help. I also saw GB today for a quick drink which nearly sent me over the edge. God it's like chinese torture.
I've never found myself in a position before when i couldn't have it even if i wanted it. i would like to say that my theory of old was correct in that, when you go without it for a while you stop missing it but this time around that couldn't be further from the truth. damn these hormones.
I figure a good way to cool down is to remove myself from any sexy men situations and am journeying to suffolk again this weekend, there is nothing quite like a pub full of 70 year old sailors drinking bitter to put you off the opposite sex, it will also prove a good penny sweet test and a mini break in the land of lemon bon bons will really see weather i have the will power necessary to shed these pesky pounds. It will also be nice to see Pa it is a pity he doesn't live nearer as i know how much he adores rita, i never thought when i reflect back on our turbulent relationship of yester year that i would see the day we chatted for ages about baby sleeping patterns but we do. It is funny how relationships change and how people mellow with age, it's a blessing.
And so fingers crossed i will return cooled and slimmed because let me tell you fat, horny and stitched up ain't rocking my boat right now.

my baby seems to like the evenings very much. just when i plan to relax with some 'adult' time ie. OK!, closer, M&S meal and vino she suddenly springs to life and laughs in the face of my over confidence. Bless her heart, grr. I am assured by various online breastfeeding websites that this is commonly known amongst the hair armpit brigade as cluster feeding and little can be done to rectify the situation. fantastic. So i find myself pillow strategically placed with baby on lap mouth clamped on nipple (babies not mine.. my tits might be saggy but they're not quite that bad yet). I am learning a new way of being these days of walking and sitting and sleeping. this little bird sure wears the trousers.
I also had a nice surprise via email this evening. The other day i bumped into the sister of an old flame we chatted briefly about nappies, colic and BCG jabs then went our separate ways. Myself and her brother had a brief but racy affair about 7 years ago and i often wonder how he is. Anyway tonight, quite out of the blue i got an email from him inquiring about my well being and congratulating me on ritas arrival. he suggested we meet for coffee soon, perhaps it is my extreme lack of contact/conversation with anything remotely male in the last 8 months or just the lightheartedness of hearing from an old friend but it did bring a smile to my face. I also haven't eaten since hearing from sexy D, god lord i've got to shift this tum.

Tomorrow at 12.30 i am due to register the birth of my daughter at the town hall this means her birth certificate will be issued with her legal name and parentage. I have told ibiza boy about the time slot and the last time we spoke he said he would try and make it. I am fairly non plussed as to weather he is present or not but do think it would be quite a nice gesture of responsibility if he took an hour of work to validate 50 percent of her origin. I try and resist sarcasm but at times such as these it is difficult. that being said we have agreed to have a DNA test bearing in mind i fell pregnant the first time we slept together and in fact that i was the one to suggest it i don't blame him for encouraging it. it suits me as i have no doubt in my head that she is his daughter and should suit him as that way there is no doubt and no discussion in the future.
I cant help feeling its rather a modern grotty thing to have to do but, hey age of evidence i guess.
the only benefit of a no show would be her name remaining as i would like, that being rita rose. He requests eliza (!?) to be added to the end. Honestly, what a mouthful and three names; how common. We will see he has surprised me lately but then again old habits die hard, i am preparing myself for a solo glass of champagne after her legal welcoming into the world.
talking of which, on the up side i seem to have regained my taste for vino in the last couple of days i have positively savoured a glass of pinot with dinner tonight, and am reminded of the old days when my world revolved around the old liquid loveliness... i can't say i miss them a great deal at the moment, but there is nothing quite tlike that first glass after work. I am told that it is not particularly conducive to breast feeding but hey i'm only having a glass, and dear god if a couple of units is damaging it's nothing on a moody mummy.. the joys of the grape have never been more welcomed.

i am beginning to appreciate why so many turn to the bottle.
for a change i am talking milk not gin but trust me the thought of both has crossed my mind in the last couple of days. I feel like in my quest to be earth mother i have become immobilized, and permanently exposed. I once saw a documentary about a siamese twin who had a sister growing out of her waist and used to wheel her around on a trolley i am considering investing in a similar such contraption as baby seems permanently locked on and set to stay that way for the foreseeable future. this wouldn't be such an issue had i not already seen every episode of friends/repeat of big brother/series of x factor. yes i am tied to the sofa i have almost given up on even dressing in the morning knowing that within 5 minutes the hobnobs will be out again.
i am loathed to turn to formula and regardless of what the pro bottle mums say can't help feeling like i would be giving up to soon, but i tell you, i have udders and boy are they being milked.
I have promised myself a boob job in a year or so. it is something i have always toyed with and having tits that look like wombles from wimbledon is surely reason enough to consider such an enhancement. And according to the experts i am set to loose 500 calories a day by breast feeding, (although i am beginning to think this is something they tell you to make you do it...I still appear to by thoroughly insulated) so with he combination of both i should be back on track within no time...hmm, and positive thinking's gotta be worth something.