Morning all!
I've already got a pushchair although I don't know much about it as I haven't seen it. Sadly, my SIL had a fairly late m/c and they had already bought a travel system so it has been donated to me. I know it's Silvercross and I know it's an all in one pram/pushchair/carseat thing with lots of those buggy snuggle things and various super duper attachments. It cost them a whopping £850 so I'm assuming it does all sorts of amazing things like changing the baby's nappies for you.
Jonah I couldn't help but laugh at your 'tarbrush' memory (in a non-racist, sort of despairing way). 'Touched with the tarbrush' is one of my Grandma's favourite phrases to use loudly in public, along with 'Blackistani' and 'Gay Boys'. The truly sad thing, as you say, is that there is no way of changing it, let alone convincing them to keep their prejudiced nonsense to themselves. They're both in their 80s and their prejudices are well and truly ingrained. They have spent their entire lives in very small Northern mining communities and don't limit their ridiculous views to homosexuality or ethnic origin. You will be pleased to know that all a small child needs is a dose of castor oil and a good smack each day. In all seriousness The Religious Nut (paternal Grandmother by another name) does not seem to link my father's self esteem issues and very severe depression to the fact that she used to regularly beat him with a stick 'just to show what happens if you ever do anything wrong'. Coupled with locking him in a cupboard for days at a time, never hugging him and breaking his ribs, I don't think he had the happiest childhood. Needless to say, this baby will never be left alone with either of them. Sorry, I appear to be using this as a mini-rant session, not my intention I assure you.
Santamum- does anybody think their 'I know somebody who's 6months and much, much smaller than you' comments are helping in any way at all? I'm 5' 4" and enormous (DH calls me a biffa on a regular basis). I hated the constant comparisons, the ooh look at you eating sprouts that means it's a boy crap (wtf?)- it's a Christmas dinner, of course I'm eating sprouts. The worst thing by far was the marching up to me and touching my stomach with 'ooh it's very hard' or 'aren't you round, bet it's a girl, wink wink' rubbish. I cannot believe they thought it was alright just to touch me. I did snap at my MIL when she tried it, but she was the last one in a very long line of touchers. For future reference DO NOT TOUCH MY BUMP!
On a lighter and somewhat happier note, I have rediscovered my libido. I know none of you are remotely interested in any of my bedroom activities, but I had begun to think I would never be attracted to DH again. Although attempting to manoeuvre into any kind of practical position to even kiss DH requires some kind of tantric, yogic gymnastics. I repeat, I am a biffa of epic proportions.
Well after sharing far too much with you all, I'm going to slink off and look at the Next online sale...and maybe get some Quality Street from the kitchen to keep up energy levels...