I always enjoyed flying with Virgin because points what they loose in space and no free drinks, they at times, have been known to make up for with their animated safety talk. So naturally I got a kick out of these instructions on using the oxygen the other day:

"In the event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, masks will descend from the ceiling. Stop screaming, grab the mask, and pull it over your face. If you have a small child travelling with you, secure your mask before assisting with theirs. If you are travelling with more than one small child, pick your favourite."

(heard on Kulula Airlines, Johannesburg)

I have to admit -- I never thought about it before now but in the event of needing to use the oxygen mask on an airplane and having more than one small child, I will inevitably have to choose one to put the mask on first. If my children are anything like my sisters and I were, this could go very badly for me...

That's it. Before they learn to walk, they're going to have to learn to put on their own oxygen mask. You can buy play doctor's kits. Surely we can get a play air steward kit, complete with life jacket and oxygen mask! Come on Montessori toys? Melissa and Doug? Fisher Price? Anybody?

There are two people you can't say anything bad about in China -- Máo ZéDōng and Michael Jackson (Màikèěr Jíekèxùn) or, well, you don't want to know what might happen to you.

So this Wednesday, for your listening pleasure (although its possible you won't find this nearly as funny as you would if you'd lived in China)...

Its Father's Day in Australia. I believe I have mentioned this before but originally this posed a small dilemma for us, being that Jason is American and I am Australian. See, Mother's Day is universally the same date but Father's Day on the other hand, is different, depending on what country one is in. So what is one to do? At first it was, we'll celebrate whatever country we're in at the time but then I quickly realised that mean't this year, Jason would get two Father's Days and I'd only get one Mother's Day. I'm totally selfish I know but after all, I'm carrying the child not to mention giving birth to it and I only get one Mother's Day? So, its heartless I know, but he gets the American Father's Day and that's it. My Dad has let me know a bazillion times this weekend that he thinks that's incredibly unfair to Jason and I suppose might I appear heartless over the whole thing so here's a short ode to both my dad and my Baby's daddy.

So first, to my Dad (for who today is really Father's Day):

To the one partially responsible for my being here in the first place, to many hours of repetitious videographing of the various songs and other talents I had as a small child. Only you can read 'There Was An Old Lady Who Swallowed A Fly" and the part in the Little House series when Jack the Dog dies. For all the years you ate 'the burned things' and I thought you actually liked things that way -- I remember the time it occurred to me you only ate the burned biscuits because you knew we wouldn't. There is a song to go with every occasion (or at least some kind of Cockney slang). When I think of all the PMS you've suffered what with five females in the house and the fact that you never kicked any of us out (even though you threatened too), I do believe you deserve some kind of medal. Or perhaps it will be the satisfaction of seeing me go through it all with my own children now that will be reward enough.

And to my Baby's daddy, Jason:

Every day should be a celebration of you. How many other pregnant women have husbands (you deserve a medal on that point alone) that make them breakfast, let them sleep a little longer in the mornings, and tell them they are beautiful at 32 weeks (even though they are HUGE)? I already see the way you are as you say in your own terms, "addicted" to our little prodigy. I believe you when you say nothing is going to get done after Myrgatroyd is born because you will not be able to tear your eyes away, not even for a moment. Although I will have something to say if you start waking Baby up 'just to check' all the time. I look forward to finding that book only you can read, the 'Daddy songs' you will make up, the crazy rules and threats you'll impose (but let me tell you, grounding for life really doesn't work), and the adventures you'll take our small one's on.

I'm really happy that our new family member has a good solid legacy to grow into (and a shout out to the American Father-in-law -- you're pretty great too and I include you in that last sentence also).

And finally a quote that describes the men in my life perfectly:

“It is more fun to talk with someone who doesn’t use long, difficult words but rather short, easy words like ‘What about lunch?’”

— A.A. Milne

(and to top it all off, we saw a koala in the tree outside our new house today -- how sweet is that?!)

Happy Father's Day!

It started several months ago, while we were in still in China actually. One night, Jason came home from meeting a friend quite late and I was already in bed, reading. All he did was open the door and tell 'the both of us' hello and that was enough to wake the baby from a sound sleep and sending Myrgatroyd bouncing all over the place for a good 30 minutes.

Then I began to notice a trend. Everyday, when Jason would come home from school -- no matter what time of day -- as soon as he would start talking, Myrgatroyd would wake up and start pounding away at my insides.

My favourite though, was when Jason would wake us both up in the morning. He'd be up much earlier to get ready for school and since I've been sleeping fairly badly from day one of being pregnant, he'd let me sleep till 8 in the morning (yes, I know that's not going to keep happening!). Then he'd come in and kiss us good morning and get us for breakfast (and yes, I do know I'm married to the most amazing man on earth). Without fail, the baby responds to his voice, his touch -- it appears we have a 'daddy's boy/girl' on our hands and I couldn't be happier.

In Jason's words, he's addicted to seeing his baby move. I think Mrygatroyd is rather addicted to Jason too. Recently Jason was away for a week, teaching, and Mrygatroyd was the quietest I think I can ever remember being for a long time. Myrgs (it's pretty sad when you abbreviate the joke name isn't it?) barely responded to my prods and shied away from the hands of my younger sisters. Although, Bub did respond to my brother's loud voice while we listened to him teaching but I can tell (I'm the mother so I'm allowed to dote over my unborn child's intelligence) that Baby understood Daddy was gone because when we arrived in Brisbane to pick up Jason, albeit it took a little while for Myrgs to warm up but pretty soon, bub was bouncing all over the place again.

For weeks, we've already been at the point where we're whispering after 10:30 pm because I want the baby to stay asleep so I can catch a few winks myself. But these days, I have to admit, the cutest thing is when both Jason and I are woken in the morning to gentle (and often not so gentle) kicking against Jason's arm. Wow, Baby's not even born yet and already governing our sleeping schedules. And we're so addicted to this tiny human already that we gladly let it.

There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.

-- unknown

If there's one thing Australians know how to do well, it's Morning Tea.

Ask any typical Australia how many meals they eat in a day and they are extremely likely to tell you three normal meals plus Morning and Afternoon Tea. I've a sneaking suspicion this is why we have now apparently over-taken the US with regards to obesity but I also want to add I wouldn't be surprised if it's what people are now days eating for Morning Tea not the fact that we eat it.

Anyway, I will admit it: I have missed Morning Tea. I love that everyone stops for 20 minutes in the morning to have a cuppa (again with the Google Translator: "Cuppa" is the abbreviation for "Cup of Tea" but can also mean coffee), a small something to eat and a chat. Now I know what you're thinking: we do that too -- we just call it 'snack'. Well I'm here to refute that -- snack and Morning Tea are simply NOT the same. You can't have a proper Morning Tea in 10 minutes. You can't grab Morning Tea on the run. Oh, you mean 'brunch' then. No! I most emphatically DO NOT mean 'brunch' either! Brunch is late breakfast/early lunch. Morning Tea is less than brunch and more than a snack, always includes a drink and you simply must sit down to enjoy it. It's Morning Tea. While you could eat mostly anything for Morning (or Afternoon) tea, there do exist special foods that really only fall into the 'consumed with tea' category as well but we'll touch on that after the etiquette lesson shall we?

So here is a little culture lesson -- get your pinkies out!

Step 1. Company

Morning Tea is really intended to be a social event so it's really important to take your morning tea with the right company. It's cheaper than a lunch date, far less formal than dinner, and a lot more fun than on your own (although it can be done).

Step 2. Location

Will you be at home? A coffee shop? Extra points to you if you find a lake-side location!

Step 3. Tea and Cake

Like I said previously, many foods can be consumed for Morning Tea but kudos to you if you serve or go out for special Morning Tea foods. Take Devonshire Tea for example (please note: I'm talking about the authentic Devonshire Tea -- if you've heard this concept used to denote other types of tea parties then you've been majorly mis-informed). There is nothing more pleasant than tea with scones, jam and cream.

But those are biscuits, I hear you say. Nope -- they are scones. Somewhere along the lines, the Americans got their pastries mixed up.

Step 4. Socialize

Morning Tea is a perfect opportunity to organise your next road trip, discuss dismal political candidate options (seriously people, this is when we check the box that says 'none of the above -- lets go back to beginning and try again'), and talk about all manner of child-rearing issues. It's also a good time to catch up with old friends that you're not sure you want to spend that much time on (lunch would be too long but you do want to see them).

Morning Tea Don'ts:

* Don't say "These pumpkin biscuits will go well with the soup tonight." If an Australian mentions that she made Pumpkin Scones, they are meant to be consumed for Morning Tea because they are sweet.

* Don't say "These are really tiny pancakes." They are pikelets which are entirely different to pancakes. Eat them like a scone.

* Don't consider eating and running a full-scale morning tea. Don't be surprised either if you ask and Australian "Did you have Morning Tea today?" and they say no but they did manage to grab an apple or a few crackers on their way to the shop this morning. The apple or crackers don't count because there was no tea or sitting involved.

* When an Australian suggests we do Morning Tea don't say yes and start organising Brunch. As we previously discussed, these are not one and the same. Most emphatically. Generally speaking, you can't eat waffles and bacon for Morning Tea.

And lastly,

* Don't eat Devonshire Tea for Morning Tea everyday. We don't want to be the fattest country on earth people!

...a love-hate relationship. Can anyone identify? First I was in China where there were no options (a tent or a potato sack isn't a choice in my opinion). Now I'm in Australia and guess what? Nice maternity clothes are freaking expensive! And at this point my option is, clothe my baby or clothe me. And with only about 11 weeks to go, I'm leaning towards the 'clothe the baby' option. Yes, ladies, I have exhausted the op shops already (that's a thrift store for the Americans -- Google translator really needs to have an option for translating Australian English so I don't have to keep doing it) and found a few very nice things. But as we are in a very tiny town, well, it appears that any maternity clothes are snapped up as soon as they make it through the door (no doubt by the volunteers to give to their daughters' best-friend's cousin). I was discussing the afore mentioned problem with a newly pregnant lady in Target just two days ago -- she's pregnant for the second time and can't remember who she last lent her maternity clothes to and can't remember where she bought them from in the first place (placenta brain hits early on #2 I gather). Anyway, it certainly wasn't Target in Atherton. They don't have a maternity section, period.

So in my spare time, while searching the internet for cute unisex baby clothes in any other colours than pastel, I stumbled on Hot Mama Ink. I guess its not everyone's cup of tea but I couldn't help but be slightly jealous of the things that are available to our American counterparts. Good thing I've got American family! Now if only I could find some money!

My favourite one has to be this nursing tee by far.

If you're interested, the ladies over at Off Beat Mama are giving away one of these tees -- just go to offbeatmama.com/2010/08/hot-mama-ink-giveaway to enter. And may the best mama win (that should be me I hope)!

Us at 26 weeks.

As full of good intentions as I was at the beginning to get a regular photo, in the same place, wearing the same clothes throughout this pregnancy, circumstances have moved against me and I surrender. I'm to go with the flow in all things apparently -- including my belly photos. We're now 28 weeks (still going on my own calculations as the doctor has been no help in this area) so I will take a new photo this weekend and post our new stats then.

So here are a few things I'd discovered about myself, my baby, and being pregnant by 26 weeks.

1. Maternity bras are a LOT more comfortable than regular ones when you're pregnant.

2. Maternity clothes are really expensive so you should make every chance of going to the op shop (thrift store) when you can.

3. I have to admit, I'm bummed the second trimester 'feel good' hormones only lasted me about 2 months in full before I hit the third trimester and now feel something akin to a whale at times...

4. ...especially when the child does the stiff-as-a-board position (oh aren't we going to have fun with tantrums?!) when I need to get from a sitting to standing position and can't without someone helping me up.

5. I also have to admit -- I had no idea of my capacity for burping or gas. Nor how much food I could consume in a day. Nor had I any idea my body was so in tune with what nutrients it needs and when (never before has the first thought in my head upon waking been, I need to eat a lobster...blue berries...lin seeds...take more magnesium).

6. I thought that once I made a birth plan (those of you who have had children already, don't laugh...you did it too), that would be that. I didn't think country's laws would change, parents would move, money might be an issue etc. But I also didn't realise my capability of being able to go with the flow and riding above it all. Oh, it gets me some days but...

7. There ARE such a thing as crazy pregnancy hormones and sometimes I can control them!

8. My body has an amazing capability to stretch. And its a lot harder for me to watch my waist-line disappear than I thought it would be but Myrgy and I have an understanding -- I will allow he/she to co-habitate my body and do with it what he/she wishes for now but as soon as Mrygy is born, he/she begins drinking it off straight away.

9. The child likes to stay up till all hours of the night. Which is precisely why I am writing this at 11:30pm. I won't lie -- I like to feel Bub's move. It's that weird irony -- Myrgatroyd is moving when I want he/she to stop so I can sleep...if not, I'm poking around to make sure everything's ok!

10. I think the baby can tell the difference between who's hand is who's on my stomach. For example, Mryg barely misses a chance to 'play' with Daddy but as soon as someone else wants to feel, Mryg moves towards my back and just waits till the hopeful hand gives up.

Even though I'm feeling very stretched, my ankles (in this last week) have become a lot thicker, my back aches and despite the extra calcium and magnesium I'm taking I'm still having slight problems with leg cramps, I'm pretty active and eating well (anyone who knows my mother can vouch for that! There is NO junk food in this house!). Fertility Goddess? Um...maybe on a good day but seriously my mantra these days is ... baby, come out!

(Although of course, my darling, take all the time and every inch of my body you need!)

All I wanted was a natural, sister-photo...

On the other hand, maybe for teenagers, this is pretty natural.

Note that I am oblivious in every photo, to what is going on beside me.

This is what I get for being away for so long.

Other blogs do series. Far be it from me to "copy" other blogs but don't we all long for our 20 seconds of fame and at any rate, will do nothing short of prostrating ourselves before our idols (thereby causing them to trip over us and at least yell at us = elation) to get it? Well, consider it another stab at 'stardom'. I know my 'Wordless Wednesday' is falling to bits what with not having access to my photos for the last few weeks and I know that it would be my hubby's worst nightmare for me to have more than 10 followers (we'll have to change our names and wear false mustaches everywhere we go) BUT I have an idea and it is my blog after all. So I'm going to run with that.

So here it is. Drum roll please...

...you can travel vicariously through me -- how's that?

And soon enough, you can find out how it is to travel with children in tow -- although this may just provide some amusement to your otherwise sane day. Adventures...blunders...we have it all right here! So here's to my With Love series! I'll drink a Singapore Sling to that!

***

We decided to add Singapore to our 'List of Cities That Can Be Done In A Day'. I've done Singapore before -- about 7 years ago (yikes!) by myself but this was Jason's first time. My objective: to see the Tiger Balm Gardens because its the one place that I didn't get to go last time. Did I accomplish that? No. But we had fun anyway. We're bound to layover there again sometime so one of these days, I will do the Tiger Balm Gardens.

Part of our four day pilgrimmage to the homeland (a.k.a. Australia) was a mammoth 16 hour layover in Singapore. Considering we had just spent about the same amount of time in the Hong Kong airport on the not-so-fun side (before you check in), we were keen to get out for a while. Well, I was keen. Three hours of sleep and a 25 week pregnant belly do crazy things to your brain. Singapore holds a soft spot in my heart -- it was my second trip overseas, my first trip to Asia, my first trip by myself, and my mother had been there when she was a teenager. So I was keen to show Jason my initial stomping grounds of travel.

Here's the thing: we flew Jetstar to Australia. Dirt cheap tickets = strange flying times = no-checked-through-to-the-next-city luggage. Singapore airport might be the best in the world BUT that's only if you're on the inside. After you pick up your bags at 2:30am, there's no where to go and no where to really sleep. Left Baggage is closed so you can't check anything and the sky train to get you to another more comfortable terminal doesn't run for another few hours. So there we were, wondering around Terminal 3 at 4:30 in the morning, fighting other backpackers for small, comfy seats in tiny coffee shops. Only the others weren't pregnant. I guess at 4:30am, you can't even play the pregnancy card.

Not too bad for approximately 3 hours of sleep in the last 24, hey?

Despite that, Singapore is set up fabulously for people that have a "few" extra hours between flights. You can check your bags for the day at the Left Baggage counter and there's a free shuttle into the city. For $6 (Singapore -- almost the same as the USD and AUD) you can take a tour bus around the city that allows you to get on and off at will and they'll give you a time table so you know when you should be back in the airport to check in for your flight. All this is in Terminal 2 which also has a Gloria Jean's and would have been much more comfortable place to spend the night instead of the one we were stuck in. Oh well, beggars can't be choosers, right?

So Singapore.

At 25 weeks, this baby's been to three countries (four if you include Hong Kong on it's own) before its even been born!

A really stark comparison between the old and new.

Firstly, lets get a few things straight. Yes, its clean -- probably cleaner than any other Asian city you'll go -- to but the litter-bug police do not follow you everywhere you go, fining you for dropping a tissue or chewing gum. And with the amount of free things you can do, it really isn't that expensive of a city to be in either. It is affluent and high tech and if you didn't come for the shopping then people start to wonder why you're here but I guess I'd compare it to New York City -- busy, focused, but if you need help, someone is more than happy to point you in the right direction. Not quite Chinese, Malay, Indian or Western, it's the perfect introduction to Asia for first-timers and a bit of a reprieve for long-termers. And yes, they celebrate all four New Year's celebrations. Singapore Sling anyone?

Singapore's national languages are Chinese (Mandarin), Malay, and 'Singlish'. Jason had fun messing with the poor tour guide by answering her Singlish in Mandarin. By the time she actually figured out what was going on (you try switching three languages in your head), she was so stoked that she could speak her native tongue with us that she forgot we were just students a few times and didn't understand everything. It's also one of the richest cities in the world. But what I love most is the culture. You can eat Malay food at one of the many food courts, get a henna tatto in Little India, buy computer parts (or camera lenses...) at cheap Chinese prices or shop Louis Vitton and oh, excuse me, Deutscher's are Dooney people, on Orchard Road till your little heart's content. I am happy enough to plant myself in the Botanical Gardens for hours or wonder around the Merlion Statue soaking in the international art culture. I love that while they are Chinese, they're nothing like Mainlanders. Just as driven and over-worked, Singaporeans are much more softly spoken and quick to accept that there are multiple ways of accomplishing life. They are constantly living in a state of transition, continuously upgrading everything but at the same time, living their lives ruled by old customs. After dealing with the in-your-faceness of much of the rest of Asia (China especially), Singapore is a breath of fresh air (literally -- they have 'no smoking' signs and people actually adhere to them)!

Admiring the beautiful orchids at the Botanical Gardens...

Of course Jason found a friend...

So my advice to you is, if you've a few hours in Singapore, make the most of the freebies offered to you and go see the city! And if you can, extend your trip by a few days. Here's what's on my list for 'next time':

* Tiger Balm Gardens

* Try a Singapore Sling (next time, I better not be pregnant)

* Lay on the imported sand at Sentosa Island

* Visit the organic farms in Kranji

* Camping -- I've heard it can be done. Like I said, I'll give it a shot and let you know how it goes!

The end of July is approaching a lot faster than I'm ready for, I'll admit. A week ago today, we arrived in Australia and the last week has been spent getting legal, up-to-date and registered not to mention doctors visits, naturopaths and of course seeing my family. And eating certain foods that I've been deprived of for so long (like cream -- I had my fix and I'm good now).

I've lots to blog about, pictures to upload, baby to talk about but alas, the computer charger chose the flight from Singapore to Darwin to give up the ghost and of course Far North Queensland has no Mac Genius's to speak of (in case you're ever traveling through Atherton Tablelands, the local high school has Mac laptops if you need to check your power supply -- see, a useful travel hint hidden in an otherwise inconsequential post). So I'm forced to use someone else's computer. A PC none-the-less. It's been so long since I've used a PC it seems foreign and strange and I just don't know my way around it at all. No access to my photos, my inspiration...so despite all my intentions to 'better my blog' in the months leading up to the eminent birth of henceforth dubbed 'Myrgatroyd' (see note below), I will again be taking a (hopefully) short hiatus.

So here's a quick check-in/check-out to hold you over and prove to even you, that we are in fact in Australia, in the flesh:

* We are 26 weeks pregnant.

* After four days of travel, including multiple security checks, delayed flights, and begging Australian customs to let Jason keep his water bottle, we made it home for the first time in four and a half years!

* My parents will be relocating to NSW in about 4 weeks time. This means we are packing and cleaning amongst getting semi-re-established. I will be about 30 weeks when we make the more than 26 hour drive from Far North Queensland to Northern New South Wales.

* My family has this theory that if they come up a dreadful name and insist on calling my unborn child thus, I will cave into telling them the names we've chosen. They are so wrong. Trouble is, 'Myrgatroyd' is so catchy -- even we are calling the bubby Myrgy. Sad, isn't it?

* The three of us went to see a doctor for Baby's first time. Judging from the persistent attempts to kick it as hard as possible, Myrgy didn't like the doppler and I feel bad that we subjected the poor child to it.

* I have slightly better blood than Jason does.

* They say there are two types of people that live the type of life we do, those who know they have parasites and those that don't know yet. We are of the enlightened kind (meaning we're going to get Jason to put on some weight at last!).

* We've added Singapore to our list of Cities That Can Be Done In A Day.

* My sister announced her engagement and will be getting married late November.

* The new mid-wife insurance laws are squashing our chances at a homebirth and at 26 weeks, its hard to find a birth centre that's still got positions available.

***

As they say, there is no rest for um, well, not us anyway. I couldn't be more happier to be at home after all these years and due to our extra long travel period, I think we got over most of our culture shock. Hopefully I'll be back, blogging in full force, in no time!

One of the many reasons why we are learning Chinese:

http://www.danwei.org/language/yuan_chonghuan_profanity.php

An image that's been making the rounds of forums and microblogs over the past few months.

Yuan Chonghuan (袁崇焕) was a Ming Dynasty general famous for defeating Nurhaci at the Battle of Ningyuan, which put a temporary halt to the Manchu invasion.

I haven't personally been to see this one but its located in Dongguan, Guangdong -- the next province over from us. The language does translate quite strong but there is definitely a better way to translate it into English than this!

As evidenced by the state of my living room, life has been completely turned upside down. And sometimes, I honestly believe, the only way to 'deal with life' is to get away from it. As long as you know you're coming back...or that 'life' will catch up with you at some point.

So seeing we were in need of some serious debriefing before going home, our friend suggested a quick trip to Yángshùo. As it turned out, it was the perfect way to unwind from a hectic 15 months of language learning and full culture immersion...get a bit of a grip on ourselves...get some sun...have a mini affair with a city (or is it a village?) that's not our own...

I'm so ready to pack my bags and move here!

I was talking to my mum on skype the other night, when our temporary room-mate breathlessly popped his head in the front door waving a newspaper clipping.

"I can't stay, I haven't read the whole thing but you have to see this!"

With that he was gone and I was left trying to read and understand what I could of the article -- which wasn't much given that it was in Chinese characters but enough that I could understand the gist of what was being said. Enough to make me so completely embarrassed. I showed my parents (via Skype). I'm pretty sure my face was red.

Jason is regularly in the newspaper. Whether its for modeling, doing interviews, in fact he was in it again the other day, if I remember correctly, just for being seriously good looking. But me? Hello, I'm wall-flower Jane, I get in the newspaper because...people aren't sure if I'm pregnant or not and are too embarrassed to offer me their seat on the bus. Yes. And Yes.

Everyday, somebody comments about my clothes. Or lack of maternity clothes. Or more specifically lack of Chinese maternity clothes. Or perhaps more correctly stated, lack of hideous Chinese maternity tents. I am not in the slightest way exaggerating when I say they are still wearing potato sacks with scary cartoonish characters on them, all in pastel colours, here. So I asked my teacher and my friends about this and they said and I quote: that's what pregnant women wear. It gives me the eebie jeebies just thinking about wearing those things. And a new appreciation for the options my mother had when she was pregnant with me (in fact I think I find that exact dress you were wearing in that 'pre-going to hospital' photo, Mum!). It gives me a new appreciation for Isabella Oliver (I'll except commission for that statement) and all the talented people on Etsy. And if I ever hear anyone complain about how hideous the maternity clothes are at Target, I will slap you.

I went shopping with my very good Chinese friend the other day after explaining this predicament to her. She had previously made me promise that I wouldn't wear the horrible Chinese maternity clothes and sympathetically offered to help me find something. I explained to her the style I like and she says, Yeah I know. Bò xí mī yà (bohemia -- I love it when they just translate the sound!). Love her I do, but in the end she's still Chinese and I'd forgotten that there are 'rules' when shopping. For example, I naturally gravitate toward the darker colours, more earthy tones or bright purples or reds. Well, there are certain colours you're not supposed to wear in the summer and basically it came down to only light summery, pastel colours allowed. There are also certain fabrics you're allowed to wear. And lengths. Etc, etc, etc...

And sometimes, its just not worth arguing about it.

So finally I found a compromise dress that we were both happy with (I know that sounds ridiculous -- next time, I'll shop by myself), and I proceeded to ask the lǎobǎn (shop owner) if this was the biggest size she had. She said, no need as this one fit me fine (obviously). I explained to her that I was pregnant and wanted a little 'room to grow'. So the girl told me, Well, since you're pregnant, you can't buy this dress. Slightly confused I asked my friend to make sure I'd understood correctly and sure enough -- the lǎobǎn wasn't going to let me buy the dress.

Hold on, who's holding the money here???

So I turned to my friend and said "Help." She thought for a moment and then spoke with the girl and finally after about 5 or 10 minutes, (and by this time a crowd outside had gathered), the lǎobǎn said, Ok, because you are a pregnant foreigner, you can wear this dress. But Chinese pregnant women cannot wear this kind of dress.

Thank-you very much. I bought the dress.

The girl I buy pineapples from at the market told me I'm getting to fat for the kind of clothes I wear -- I really need to buy maternity dresses.

The lady I buy honey from told me the entire market was debating whether or not I was pregnant because I still wear shorts and my face is 'too thin' in her opinion.

Another friend told me, that pregnant Chinese women pretty much stay in their houses from now until giving birth unless they're too poor for a house-helper or don't live with their in-laws who can look after them. (If I had to wear that stuff, I'd probably never set foot outside my house again either).

So when I get on the bus, people don't know what to do with me. They're supposed to give up their seats for the elderly, people with disabilities, people with small children and pregnant women. So as this news reporter ever so tactfully put it, if you see a foreigner who looks very large like this one, she is pregnant and you should give her your seat. Mind you, the reporter didn't offer me his seat either...

So the next day, Sunday, we took the bus out to our friends house. Jason and I about busted up laughing because as soon as I got on the bus, everyone started whispering (oh my gosh! Its that pregnant girl from the newspaper!) and people were offering me seats everywhere.

Ah...I'm ready to go back to my 'wall-flower' status...

This morning, I got up to bright, blue skies with but only a scattering of clouds. This seems to happen so rarely these days that I fight with myself to remember that actually I don't live in a smog ridden city. They are really just rain clouds. Teasing rain clouds that taunt me when I'm hanging out my washing or going for my power walk through the park. Or like last Saturday, cancel all my World Cup English lesson plans and force me to come up with other ideas on the fly. Which is not my forte these days. But today's weather was perfect.

Bittersweet actually.

Perfect for a water fight.

Not so perfect for saying goodbyes.

Perfect for decorating tiny, little patty cakes and eating them too.

Not so perfect traffic (a 20 minute bus ride took 1 hour...granted a regular occurrence but still annoying).

Perfect smiling faces while playing.

Perfect faces turning sombre and sad while waving good bye.

(This is the good bye gift they made us and each signed their own names.)

They know why we have to leave. They know we'll be back and that we'll bring them a new little brother or sister to love. They may not have the same loving families that we all know are so necessary to life, but these children have life, and love, and character. Every week I'm so stoked to be with them. This is a part of China that I will miss while I'm not here.

Other parts, not so much, but them -- well, they're not my kids because I'm not with them everyday but they are my very special xǐao mèimeiis and dìdi's (little brothers and sisters).

And they LOVE their Gāo shūshu (Uncle Tall)!

They're a little disappointed they didn't get to feel the baby move (the baby is always asleep in the mornings while I'm there) and today a little four year old with cerebral palsy (not severe but definitely not mild either!) asked with her big brown eyes if she might hold the baby when we bring it back so long as she's very careful?...oh dear...how do you say no to that?!

Disclaimer: I would like to post more photos of the kids but due to security situations in China for us and for the orphanage, I can't. I'm already pushing it with what I have up. Please don't post these anywhere else, and understand, we simply volunteer here and appreciate what a privilege that is for us.

Maybe I should re-title this as I always seem to have at least a sentence or two...oh well!

We are shameless fans of Chacos.

They're almost the only shoes I wear these days.

Just another effort to become, literally, more like our Boss!

I knew once we started wearing them, it would be like joining the Chaco cult.

Hey, at least they aren't white and we're not drinking kool aide.

http://becknarr.blogspot.com/

I'm happy to announce that Chaco USA is having a Chaco tan competition and I think Jason may just have a good chance at winning, seeing as how he has a permanent Chaco tan line (yes, even in the winter -- this man tans so well, it's sickening). The contest is running through August so we'll be working on his tan a little more before putting up a photo (read: Rachel makes Jason stand outside in the sun with his Chacos on for an hour everyday...just kidding...but seriously). When the photo goes up though, we'll be calling on you to vote! By hook or by crook we're going to win this one! Tanning oil anyone?

Us at 22 weeks.

17 weeks and four days to go (give or take a few).

I guess the baby's feet could be that big. At some point they were/are.

Pretty happy about the fact I can still...get..my pre-preggo jeans...done...up...

87 cms and baby is as big as a my water bottle.

Its a bit of a drag taking photos of yourself. I really want to do professional belly shots when we get home. Something with washable paint, I imagine.

I miss sleeping on my back.