Friday, June 12, 2009

Nuchal scan booked

The Nuchal scan has been booked. July 27th, at the Royal Alex. Because (again) I have magically morphed into the "high risk" world, I can't get the test done at a community centre and have to go to the hospital. It interests me how that one little year, 34 to 35, makes such a difference in how I am being treated. That one year changes everything.

For the last 11 years I have been driving a 1998 Pontiac Firefly. And my little red car (aka Berry) is on it's last legs. I paid around $6000 for this car brand new. It has absolutely NO frills or extras (not even power steering) and for the price it has done me so extremely well. But it's slowly falling apart. I could throw more money at it, but I am not sure Sprout and their car seat and everything else that is required, 2 dogs, a man that is 6'5" tall and I will fit in a 4 passenger, 2 door hatchback. So the hunt for a new car has begun! Well, make that a new USED car. I am going on mat leave which means there will be little money to go around for huge car payments. We are just looking for air conditioning, 4 doors and a decent sized trunk. Plus a good rating in the Lemon-Aid book.

Although I have one irrational need that I have added. It has to be an automatic.

I have been driving standard since I bought my first car. All my cars have been manuals. Although I have never been 100% comfortable on steep hills (people always seem to edge up to my bumper and I am scared of rolling back into them) I have never (knock on wood) had any accidents because of it. But now I have this compulsion to have an automatic. I don't want the additional stress of having MY CHILD in the car on a hill and the fear of rolling back.

It's the same with the air conditioning. When it was just me, or me and Neil, I thought we could make do - we didn't NEED it. But I want Sprout to be comfortable in the summer. I don't want him/her to be hot and fussing in the car next year. Things that I was willing to sacrifice in MY life I refuse to make my child sacrifice. Is that what it means to be a parent?

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