My Boyfriend Is A Twat » Coralie

1989

Zoe — Thu, 24 Jun 2010 11:13:56 +0000

That was definitely a year to remember. I waddled around like a beached up whale, ate extremely healthy, exercised a lot and generally felt good about myself as I was due to give birth on 24 June. All I knew was that I wasn’t expecting just the one baby, but two, but had no idea whether I was to give birth to a boy and girl, two boys or two girls. Simply because I didn’t want to.

And so my partner and I had four names ready and after a lot of huffing and puffing and three hard pushes, I gave birth to a girl who was called Coralie. I loved holding my newborn child so much that my gynaecologist had to remind me that I still had another baby inside me so could I hand Coralie over to her father and get pushing again?

With one single push I gave birth to another girl – Tatiana. Both of my babies were covered in mucus and looked pretty revolting in all honesty, but they were mine, had been a part of me for nine months so naturally I thought they were beautiful.

And all this happened 21 years ago.

Happy birthday, Coralie and Tatiana!

xxx

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A job!

Zoe — Thu, 10 Jun 2010 16:38:55 +0000

No, not me, Coralie.

Coralie applied at a hotel for a summer job as a receptionist and they not only gave her a summer job, but a full contract which only goes to show how valid a stage is when studying for a degree. Not only does she have the experience, but she also speaks four languages. However, as Coralie failed a few exams earlier this year she will have to re-take them at the end of August and so will need that month to study. She told the hotel this and they said that it was of no problem whatsoever and that they would employ her for July and if she passes her exams Coralie is very welcome to go back as a full-time employee.

Am I peeved? Well, a bit.

But I’m dead proud of Coralie.

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There are pros to unemployment.

Zoe — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 07:25:20 +0000

I miss Coralie terribly these days and keep calling her sister ‘Coralie’ which must be driving her batty. (Tatiana, that is, not Coralie.) So far, I have heard via Coralie’s boyfriend and father that she had arrived safely and is sharing a room with a friend. Her boyfriend added that as of yet she has no internet connection so everytime Tatiana comes home from college I ask her if she has any news or if Coralie’s FaceBook page has been updated.

So far, nada

Going to Tenerife is a good thing for Coralie, but I did think that we’d be able to communicate somehow. I wonder how many hours a day she’s working – maybe she’ll surprise me by sending me a postcard, although that really isn’t her style. We’ll see.

I do hope everybody is voting for the blogs that I mentioned further below in this year’s Bloggies and if you don’t, then I shall have no other option than to put up a photo of me squeezed into my SLN (Sexy Little Number), a sight that you really don’t want to see unless you get kicks out of white velcro, white plastic and bright yellow foam.

That was a threat, in case you didn’t get it.

And as I am a lady of intolerable leisure I have decided to go out today. I’m taking Tatiana out for lunch. Hell, it took me 2 months to save up for this and Tatiana is great company.

Those sandwiches had damn well better be good.

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And so she’s gone.

Zoe — Sat, 23 Jan 2010 08:56:49 +0000

Well, Coralie came around yesterday to grab a few of her belongings here to take to Tenerife and then said goodbye. She is 20, a young adult and therefore I should be pleased that she’s going to work in Tenerife for 4 months to improve her Spanish so that she’ll get her degree at the end of this year, but somehow, I feel as though my heart-strings are being tested.

Her boyfriend is visiting her in March and I mentioned that that would be a good time to visit Morocco because if she doesn’t go there while so close she’ll kick herself forever afterwards.

“But why can’t I go on my own?”

I looked at her boyfriend who told her sweet things about attractive, single women visiting Morocco from abroad that end rather unhappily. Did I mention that Coralie is studying tourism? The idiot.

However, I got plenty of hugs before my daughter left to pack and then go to her farewell party, as well as promises of keeping in touch which will definitely test her communication skills with the rest of the family.

Coralie is on her way to the airport now and I hope that she has a good time. I miss her already but she’ll be home sooner than I expect.

I’m off in search of comfort food now.

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Pathetically miserable for no reason at all.

Zoe — Wed, 20 Jan 2010 09:41:55 +0000

On Saturday, Coralie leaves this country to work in a hotel in Tenerife for 4 months as part of her degree in tourism. I was jumping for joy at one point – the stroppy little cow will give me some relief for a while, but somehow, as a parent wishing your offspring to leave the nest as soon as possible, the joy is short-lived. Especially as Coralie is at her dad’s this week and won’t be home on Friday as there is some sort of a farewell party with her friends.

Coralie’s plane is at 1pm. Neither her father nor her mother are allowed at the airport (Charleroi), and she insists that her sister, Tatiana, drives her there along with Coralie’s boyfriend, her best friend and someone else. My first-born (of the twins) is about to start leaving the nest, and that saddens me greatly, far more so than I thought it would. Four months is nothing. I’ll be glad to have the house back without her nicking our clothes, my hair-dryer, make-up remover, etc.

And yet I will be sad to see her go, and it will no doubt affect her sister even more so. I wonder what she will be like when she returns, apart from shockingly tanned.

Oh hell, it’s not as if she’s off for a sex-change.

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What is it with black eyes in my family?

Zoe — Tue, 05 Jan 2010 09:40:55 +0000

Coralie came home one night and went straight to bed. The next morning I scolded her for not having taken off her make-up.

“It’s not make-up, Mum, it’s a black eye.”
“A black eye? How?”

It took a while to get any sense out of her but finally she told me ‘her’ version of the truth.

Now she may be on the smaller side of the scale, but would you believe your daughter if she gave you this answer?

“I walked into a chair.”

Her boyfriend looked at me and raised his eyebrows, while I was trying to visualise a chair high enough for Coralie to walk into.

Nope. I still don’t buy her story.

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