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    D-Day+11(and counting).

    Well, you wouldn’t read about it, except…you already are.

    The final conclusion to the ongoing schnitzel saga…is being strung out longer than the final episode of LOST.

    I mean, come on…we all want to know…

    What’s in that damn hatch?

    Who’s behind all this?

    What in the hell is going on??!!

    Even with a tiny Jack Shephard and John Locke on board to lend a hand, we’re still none the wiser.

    It’s just like the end of each LOST episode. At last…we’re finally getting the answers we’re looking for. And that answer is…

    Revealed next episode…NOOOOOOO!!!

    And just so everyone’s up to speed… (more…)

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    AUTHOR: // CATEGORY: 3rd Trimester, In the Womb

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    D-Day+10(no more counting…please?).

    We apologise for this unexpected break in transmission BUT…

    We’re off to see the Wizard

    We will return to your regular scheduled program once we get this little bubba out…

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    D-Day+9(and counting).

    All geared up and nowhere to go. Clearly, the hospital maternity ward and our little schnitzel know nothing about the musings of one John ‘Hannibal’ Smith (aka the leader of TV’s smash 80’s action series, The A-Team), and his infamous mantra…

    “I love it when a plan comes together.”

    Because so far, nothing is going to plan. Despite already being 9 days overdue, we thought we finally had the ball rolling when we were booked in for an induction today at 2pm. Early this morning, we got a call that we had to be bumped back to 6pm. Okay…no biggie. Then, a couple hours before heading in, we get another call informing us of a sudden emergency birthing priority (that’s code for: We don’t want to miss the next epiosde of “Offspring”), and to which, also means…

    “There’s no room at the Inn.”

    It’s a familiar story that goes waaaay back, (I think it was an episode of The Brady Bunch). A “young” (ahem) pregnant couple turned away at their moment of need. My wife says it’s because of the emergency, but I suspect it’s because they didn’t believe she was a virgin. That, and the Three Wise Guys (re: Stooges) DVD under my arm, did us no favors (what am I supposed to watch while all this is going on?). And the donkey we rode up on, did nothing to sweeten the deal or motion our case further. Not quite sure who the bigger “ass” was in the end…(no need to comment, my love). (more…)

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    AUTHOR: // CATEGORY: 3rd Trimester, In the Womb, Thoughts


    D-Day+8(and counting).

    After yesterday’s Inside Scoop, we fully expected to be holding a little schnitzel in our arms by now, but he obviously has more important things on his mind. Like driving us out of our minds with all this waiting…waiting…waiting. It’s pretty exhausting and we haven’t even started yet!

    But after a quick meeting with the Plumbing Doctor today…

    Not only did we get a 10% discount off checking her faucets and replacing all our washers, but we’ve also been given the AOK to come into the hospital tomorrow and finally get things underway.

    The plan is, to head in during the afternoon. Face a couple of procedural steps that need to be monitored overnight and then…all things going to plan (good luck), we should be meeting our little bloke on Wednesday. Hospital regulations mean I have to leave my love alone in the capable midwives hands overnight, while I head home and spend my evening alone, nervously chewing the furniture and wearing a track in the carpet, hoping everything goes to plan.


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    So, we just got back from the CTG Monitoring and we’re…all good.

    Schnitzel aced the exam (to be expected), but it was a little unsettling to watch. If you examine the pics below, you’ll see my lovely wife looks like she was in fact being interrogated by the KGB (perhaps my thoughts CAN manifest into reality?…Better watch what I think about in future).

    Either that, or she looks like a contestant on a sadistic medical game show version of  Spicks and Specks. Only every time she presses the buzzer, Adam Hills gives her an electric shock! But just so her mother doesn’t have a cardiac arrest thinking she’s the subject of some kind of euthanasia experiment, all this machine does is monitor the baby’s heart rate, and every time momma feels the baby move, she presses the buzzer…(and administers a tiny electrical shock…NO…a handful of feeding pellets drops from the ceiling…NO…she receives a telegram from a Czech Republican man in Prague that simply reads…CUT IT OUT). (more…)

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    AUTHOR: // CATEGORY: 3rd Trimester, In the Womb, Thoughts


    Week 41What gives? He should be here by now.

    Officially, our little schnitzel is D-Day +7(and counting). I’ve heard of things getting lost in the mail, but lost in the fe-male? Come on!

    So, today we head in for some CTG monitoring. That’s when they hook up some electrodes to a car battery and try and jump start the car…it isn’t? My bad. It’s when they get creepy looking KGB agents in dark suits with outdated spy equipment and huge earmuffs, to monitor what’s going on inside the womb and report back to the Kremlin.

    Or...somewhere in between.

    Basically, they monitor what’s going on inside…“Hey, wasuup li’l man?” and check the placenta is doing what it’s supposed to do. There’s nothing worse than an undisciplined placenta, I’ve always said that. So…

    “For Pete’s sake. Sit up straight and do what you’re supposed to do! Okay?” — wow, it’s like I can hear my Grandfather yelling at his own uncooperative little man, in bed after a few too many wines, all over again.

    Then, we’re scheduled for an internal exam tomorrow…(damn, I haven’t studied or anything. I asked if any of this was going to be on the test and they said…no), and then they’ll schedule him in for an induction. Which initially, I was extremely excited about, before learning that “induction” is NOT a form of suction cup boot for specifically walking inside, on the ceiling. (more…)

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    D-Day +6(and counting).

    Who’s there?
    Steel WHO?
    Steel waiting.


    Who’s there?
    Wino WHO?
    Wino baby yet?

    Who’s there?
    Yousef WHO?
    Yousef#*ng big, why he not come out before you explode?

    Who’s there?
    Ouch WHO?
    Ouch ya get!!

    Who’s there?
    Willy WHO?
    Willy ever come out?

    Who’s there?
    Snuff WHO?
    Snuff already, get out here. (more…)

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    D-Day +5(and counting).

    Five days past our due date which means…you have to give him points for consistency.

    Punching the air, picketing away with a little sign over his shoulder…

    “Hell no, we won’t go! Hell no, we won’t go!”

    Gotta love his stick-to-ed-ness…and yes, we get it. Both mumagement and dadagement will take your views under advisement, but in order to discuss things further at the negotiating table, you first have to come to the table. Which is outside, so…get on with it! (For your own safety, you understand).

    We’ve explored all the “recommended” methods of bringing it on like walking, spicy foods, pineapple, accupressure, certain stimulations of certain areas that at one point, were part of daddy’s playground but will soon be delivery methods for your sustenance once you’re out.

    But we’re getting to the pointy end of the stick, when daddy is starting to come up with his own methods of bringing you on. And some of the ideas that go through my head, didn’t exactly work out for a certain Wile E. Coyote.

    NON-RECOMMENDED methods of bringing things on:

    #1: High-dive platform diving

    #2: Running (or rolling) over hot coals

    #3: Mosh pit/stage diving (more…)

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    AUTHOR: // CATEGORY: 3rd Trimester, In the Womb, Thoughts


    D-Day +3 (and counting).

    Holy crap, it’s been three days since our schnitzel was due, but it seems he’s holed himself up inside and we’re faced with a hostage crisis.

    Someone get Denzel Washington on the line, we need a hostage negotiator extraordinaire to hopefully coax him out.

    Not quite sure what his demands are, it’s hard to read his handwriting. And we also need an interpreter. Tell me, do phrenologists only read the bumps on people’s heads or can they also read the bumps on a pregnant woman’s stomach?

    The waiting is excruciating. It’s worse than watching the Boxing Day Test, or queuing up at the DMV, or worse still…waiting for one line or two on the little pee stick. Wow, that seems like it was an eternity ago. Feels like my love has been pregnant…

    “FOREVER” (more…)

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    D-Day +2(and counting).

    What is it with kids and their reluctance to move out? That’s his problem…no independence.

    Honestly, he’s behaving more like a skulky teenager than a baby. Complete disregard for anything we have to say and never comes out of his room!

    When are we gonna meet this little guy? Surely he’s not just “imaginary” like Fairies, Santa Claus or Daryl Sommers?

    I did have a dream last night that a somewhat short, rotund Indian doctor type person (I say “doctor” because he was wearing a long white coat. He may also just as easily have been a dentist, lab technician, evil scientist, football goal umpire or…a “flasher”. But I’m more comfortable just to go with “doc”). However, he was not so much McDreamy, as he was McPuddingPop.

    So, McPuddingPop was scrawling numbers down in a type of ledger. (The kind you write numbers in, not the type that puts his lipstick on crooked and torments Batman). I look over his shoulder and see the following…

    7lbs 4oz/52cm

    Now, I don’t actually know if those numbers equate to anything in the real world, but in McPuddingPop speak, he said, “It’s a boy. 7lbs 4oz with an overall length of 52cm.” I remember thinking, “Wow, he’s outdone me by at least a couple centimetres. What about the rest of him, how much does that weigh?” (more…)

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