Gingerbread Woman

Everybody Deserves Music

Borrowed a title from the delectable Michael Franti, but honestly, I've been swamped for choices. Plan was to have a daily tally of top playlist suggestions, but it all went a bit mad yesterday when you lot filled my inbox with glorious abandon. Nicki spent a whole day not working, then sent through a revised and improved list, Ails's top ten made my mouth water, and the humour has been Fredtastic. Stand and deliver ('your money or your life, Fred'll take both' says lil sis), push it says Paddy, the drugs don't work ('cept the epidural which you should bloody have', lil sis again), Cherish by Jodeci says Justine, mac volunteers buttercup, Karina pops in Jewel's beautiful 'a life uncommon', thank you, you're all lush - your choices have been likewise and vats of apologies to those I haven't thanked here, the mail box is still filling up as we speak.

Deciding that everybody deserves music, I took Freddie out to hear Lianne Carol, a blow your head off jazz singer last night. T'was a fabulous evening, Lisa and her mum, dad and Maggie, Lisa's flatmate and lush new fella and a few random folk who were alone so we adopted them. Fred had a ball, bounced the night away, I did likewise, albeit only in my chair. It was one of those nights where I felt like there was nowhere in the world better to be than where I was. When Lianne sang cry me a river, I nearly did. When she covered Christina's (how exciting, new album out next month, can't wait) beautiful, she did it better than the dirty girl, and I found myself totally smitten with 'your song', even though I've always hated both the Elton and Leonard Cohen versions. She's singing with the BBC's big band for Radio 2, 9pm monday for any jazz fans.

Got home, headed to bed around half twelve and 45 minutes later was woken by abdominal pains. Dad was marvellous when I announced he needed to get up and drive me to hospital. I was calm, for his sake, even though inside I was convinced I'd killed the baby by having a glass and a half of wine. (honestly, this pregnancy thing makes opus dei-ers look chilled on the guiltometre- apparently this is what it's like from here on in). Fortunately it was nought so dramatic, he's fine, but I may be in the very early stages of labour. As was Dad when the nurse rolled on her rubber gloves and announced she was going to give me an internal whilst he was in the room. Here's a man who has never so much as shown me his bum in 34 years of fatherhood. He quite literally went green and shrank back into the armchair till I said 'honey, you can nip out if you prefer' at which point he leapt across the room like a man in no need of a new hip.

Suddenly all thoughts of angel wing mirrors are out, Clarence and I have spent the morning haring round mothercare for much less glamourous purchases, which I won't itemise for you, suffice to say - I never knew there were so many places to pop absorbant fabrics. I haven't packed my bag exactly, but I've got the contents for it. Naturally I've got a full make up bag and some fabulous accessories alongside the things I'm not thinking about. Fred's going to be fabulously dressed in some of the sexy baby clothes you lot have provided.

Don't panic, we're probably still days from full on contractions, although, sadly, as the nurse confirmed for me, somewhere between 12 and 20 (when i reckon my house will be habitatable for a little 'un) is looking a tad optimistic at this point. And, as I told the person who lamented spending all that time picking top tunes, I'll have them all with me, that's top job after the bag's been packed.

Wish me luck, and, I'll keep you posted

(Nearly not) Preggers

posted by The Gypsy @ 1:16 pm