Posts tagged Diary

Leafsong’s Diary 2.6

I can’t believe they finally made good on their threat to expel me from my druidic classes! Just because I’ve made negative progress in the past two years (Seriously – my last term report queried whether it was possible for a brain to physically devolve in the span of twenty four cycles), they’ve rejected me. I’ve been disgorged like…like a bad apple. At least rotten fruit has the potential to be turned into crabapple jam. I’ve got no potential at all! I’ve been tossed out in front of my peers, all of whom looked on gloatingly as they danced around in their already-achieved animal forms.

Alright, perhaps they didn’t all dance smugly in their druidic forms to celebrate my departure. I wasn’t really seeing straight when I left, you know? I wanted so badly to be able to show them all that someone from the poorest background, with no prior education, could accomplish just as much as anyone else. I used to dream about it when I was younger, and the legislation passed to allow females to undertake druidic training. I never thought I’d get the chance to do it, of course, never thought that any of us Gladefalls would be able to escape the streets. But I did get the chance, I had my chance, I had two years and I failed. I knew that I didn’t have any natural talent, but I thought that I could learn. But I had other things to do as well, right? I had a commitment to my family. To my family business!  My husband tried to reassure me that it wasn’t over, that I could resume my training once the babies were older. But what Shan’do would want to take me on now? I’m a liability. In fact, I’m a PUNCHLINE. Accidentally instructing your own roots to strangle you is now called “doing a Leafsong”. IT’S NOT FAIR. IT’S NOT FAIR.

Ironically, although part of my life is in the gutter, the other parts have never been better. The GHE:SW is doing well, especially with the summer sale season (Normally I hate holding a sale, but since the “sale” is just listing goods at their original price, as opposed to their usual 150% markup, it’s not so painful). My husband’s military activities are on a hiatus, and he is home nearly every evening. Analith is learning how to identify pictures on pieces of parchment, and Mirae’s vocabulary has expanded (she can now say “pretty girl” when looking at herself in the mirror). The twins are – well, they’re newborns, which means that they don’t do anything except eat, excrete, sleep, and cry. And stare at you, with their little round eyes. Quite alarming, actually.

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Leafsong’s Diary 26.5 – In which Leafsong is too fat to move (almost).

I wish my husband hadn’t told me that old story about the Kaldorei who sat at his desk puzzling over the mysteries of the universe for such a long time that he turned to stone. I had been in bed for about twenty seven straight hours before he mentioned that little gem. My mate and I are in his Darnassian house, where I have been resting these past few days. We went to the Temple this morning, and my husband offered up two prayers for my safety to Elune, for the upcoming birth. He only did so after I requested it; at first he attempted to brush me off with a “It’s not necessary”. It’s nice that he has such confidence in my immortality. I am not so sure.

I think that it is going to be soon. I have been pregnant twice before, and I know that feeling, the one that whispers that it won’t be long now. My back is aching, and the weight in my belly is shifting, lowering itself deeper in my pelvis. I don’t know whether the nausea I feel is due to the pregnancy, or to a sense of impending doom. I still don’t know how it is going to happen – I mean, I know what is going to happen, I’ve done it twice before; but I’ve never had this sense of absolute terror.

Mirae, my husband cut her out of my belly while I was asleep, but I’ve had such horrible dreams about that (usually involving my anatomy-ignorant mate accidentally removing some vital organs), that I have absolutely forbidden him to even contemplate it. With Analith, the first one, he came naturally – because I didn’t know any better. I didn’t think it was going to hurt so much. Someone told me that the moment of his birth would be the happiest moment of my young life. It wasn’t. I don’t even remember it properly, that whole horrible night is just a blur of sweat and tears and bleeding out onto the snow, and a horrible gnawing and tearing pain. I remember shrieking like a banshee, and my husband’s terrified, helpless face. I’d never seen him look so scared before.

Is that what it is going to be like again? Only with two? Does that mean that it will last longer, because there are two of them? I don’t know the answer to any of these questions. I should have listened to the healer, when she came on her visits to check my belly. I shouldn’t have got distracted counting the gold teeth in her mouth and calculating how much they would be worth.

I wonder, if it came to saving me, or the children, which my husband would choose?

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Leafsong’s Diary 21.5 – In which Leafsong is experiencing growing pains.

Every time that Mirae takes a wobbling step and plunges flat onto her face, I literally feel her pain in my nose and cheeks. I didn’t know that becoming a mother would mean that your children became literal extensions of your being. When Analith manages to fit the square block through the square hole and the round peg through the round hole, I feel his immature cackling as a blazing, fierce joy. When Mirae is unsettled by something (which, seeing as she is a huge coward and is scared by shadows, spiders, and things which move quickly, occurs quite often), I feel nausea in the pit of my stomach. And whenever one of them cries from sadness or pain, I am overwhelmed with despair.

When I was still pregnant with Mirae, I didn’t think that I would be able to love her as much as I did Analith, the firstborn, the precious son which my husband had so longed for. I thought that it wouldn’t be possible to give this new baby the same quantity of love that I had given my precious baby boy, that my simple, uncomplicated heart could not contain any more. This view may have been influenced by my brother, Ban – the oldest of us three – who told me that he had noticed a general diminishing of affection towards himself from our parents, when the second (Lolli) and third (me) child arrived. But when Mirae was born, it was if my heart had grown in size. I didn’t need to transfer any of the love I bore Analith to this new baby; I could continue to love them both in vast and equal amounts.

The twins are due to be born in just over a week. I am bloody sick of being so vast: if they dare to be even a day overdue, I shall find a way to induce them out. It is not fair, especially since my lifemate’s guild is full of willowy, slender beauties. I feel like Elekk-Girl beside them. You’d think that being a mother for the third (fourth-twins?) time, I wouldn’t be nervous anymore, but I am. I woke up every thirty minutes for the first three months of Analith’s life, to check that he was still breathing. I did the same thing for Mirae, and I shall do the same thing for the twins. Flora and Loredar. My husband is being a trogg and refusing to let me name the boy Florian, after the Kaldorei wall scroll pin-up with the flowing locks and loincloth. Hmph. I may ask again after the birth, when he is dewy-eyed and cooing over the newborns (and therefore manipulable). Who can resist the fluttering eyelashes of the radiant post-birth glowing Leafsong as she rests, fragile and delicate, against the cushions???

Obviously the above is a hilarious jest. Post-birth Leafsong is a sweating, bloody, red-eyed, insane-haired, puce-faced, foul-mouthed mess. More likely to throw a pillow than rest sweetly against one.

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Leafsong’s Diary 5.5 – In which Leafsong is still fat!

I feel about as wide as I am tall. I can’t tell how much of this blubber is baby, and how much of it is fat. Or water. I feel as if I am about to give birth to twin elekks. The amount of effort it takes me to heave myself up and down the stairs from the ground floor to the first floor is so immense that I simply cannot be bothered to get out of bed. I have moved into my bed, actually. The babies stay in here with me, I eat all my meals in here. I do my seed sorting in here, and my stock listing. My husband is beginning to complain about sharing his bed with crumbs, tiny wooden horses and various bits of herb, but I care not. He knows that he can’t upset me too much.

In other news, I am beginning to feel slightly apprehensive about actually – you know – giving birth. I don’t think I can go through with it. I’ve discussed this seriously with my mate, but he dismisses my concerns out of hand. It’s alright for him! He isn’t due to have his stomach sliced open by someone who is definitely not a licensed medical professional in two weeks. I know that he is getting a priestess to oversee things, and heal the wound. But half of the priestesses I know don’t like me. Many of them hate me! Just because of that N’krosh dust debacle. I wouldn’t put it past them to accidentally toss a few bits of rock and dirt inside me before they close me up.

Leafsong’s Alternatives to Giving Birth via Stomach

Giving birth naturally. No. I have gone down that route with Analith. I did not like that route.

Arcane extraction. I just made that up, but surely one of these mages or arcanists know some genius method for teleporting unborn infants out of the womb? Or else they could open a portal to my womb…hrmmm

Vomiting up the babies. My husband says that I have no grasp of biology, but I think this is a potentially viable solution.

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Leafsong’s Diary 3.5 – In which Leafsong meets a male stripper.

Honestly, my husband has no sense of humour. I thought that “Shan’do Lovelength” was absolutely hilarious! With his hip flicks and antlers and furry loincloth. I was looking forward to being entertained, especially after a tedious afternoon seed-sorting.

But does my mate appreciate this comedy gold? Noo. Nooo. No he does not. I have never seen such a terrified/enraged expression on his face, as when he was cornered by Shan’do Lovelength behind the counter. I had to physically restrain him from assaulting the poor creature! It was only a bit of fun. The babies were asleep! My husband almost burst into tears, especially when Shan’do Lovelength produced the whipped cream.

That has been the highlight of my week so far. Still fat. Still bloated and whale-esque. The priestess who is monitoring my progress has ordered me to stay within the confines of the city, and not undertake any long journeys. My husband has bought me a little fighting “robot” though, a gnomish toy, which does help release some of my violent urges!

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Leafsong’s Diary 29.4 – In which Leafsong feels better, and a whole lot worse.


It’s unbelievable.

My status as a student of the Stormwind branch of the Cenarion Enclave is being revoked, unless I show them that I have some tiny bit of druidic talent in the next three weeks.

I admit, it has been two years. Two years, and the most I’ve managed to accomplish is coax a half-dead root back to life, and produce several dozen sprouting seeds. I might as well be a particularly skilled gardener.

But, on the other hand, it’s only been two years. Aren’t Kaldorei supposed to think of time as passing in decades, centuries, even? A year is meant to be a blink of an eye, to us. We are a people who take their time, surely? Two years is a heartbeat. It’s nothing!

Perhaps it’s the loss of our immortality, that has placed this new urgency on doing things quickly. Or maybe it’s the increasing Eastern influence, our short-lived allies infecting us with their impatience.

Whatever it is, I HATE it. It’s been TWO YEARS, not two millenia! I wonder how long it took the Arch-druid Staghelm to produce his first sapling. I bet it took him at least a year. Or two. Or three.

Anyway, I’m not going to spend all my time worrying about it. I have other things to think about! It’s Mirae’s first birthday the day after tomorrow, and I still haven’t found a good present. And then, it’s only four weeks until the twins are born. I don’t think I can wait that long! I feel about as vast and bloated as that human airship, Breaker of Sky. Whatever it’s called. I’m going to start researching methods of bringing on labour early.

Also, I forgot to mention earlier. My lifemate cured me. This is why I’m a terrible writer; I should mention such things first. OH WELL.

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Leafsong’s Diary 22.4 – In which Leafsong is experiencing some discomfort.

It’s just over a week and a half until Mirae’s first birthday. My husband has already bagged buying her a giant mirror (safety glass) to look at, so I’m slightly stuck as to what to get her myself. I’m not good at buying gifts for people. I don’t see the point of gifts, really (unless they are for me.) I never got anything for my birthday when I was younger. But Mirae isn’t me, and I want to do things properly for her. Maybe I’ll get her some ribbons for her hair, or something “girly”. I think she’s going to be a girlish-girl. Unlike her mother. I’m more mannish than my own husband!

I’ll have to get Analith something too, otherwise he’ll get jealous and wreak vengeance. Little beast has teeth and knows how to use them.

I’m nearly eight months into my childbearing now, and my body is starting to slow down. I find that I have trouble standing if I’ve been sitting for a while, and that I can’t do more than a quarter of my usual delivery route before becoming weary. I feel bloated and clumsy in everything I do, although I don’t look that massive (because I have the physique of a stick, normally). My feet and hands have swollen up, they look almost as chubby as a child’s; and every so often I get a rush of heat flushing up my neck to flood my face. And don’t even get me started on the bladder problems. I swear, it’s shrunk to the size of a pea. I can’t finish a glass of water before I’m – anyway.

The miracle of life is bloody overrated! Bah!

I also find myself getting up in the middle of the night because I’m so uncomfortable. Just my luck that as soon as Mirae begins to sleep through the whole night, the little bas- the unborn babies decide that one a.m is a great time for a party. They also quite like three a.m. And five.

It’s not so bad though, my mate usually wakes up too and accompanies me downstairs. We sit together on the counter; I dictate inventory stock to him and he fills in the irritating paperwork. He is always surprised at how much I can hold in my memory. I told him that anyone could develop a superb memory if it took them less time to memorise a delivery route than it did to  read the directions along the way!

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Leafsong’s Diary 14.4 – In which Leafsong buys a couples’ entertainment device (not what you think).

I like having a mate who is wealthy. I enjoy spending his gold. Especially since I hoard every copper that the GHE:SW earns with the ferocity of a mother saber defending her young. Come to think of it, my reaction to someone snatching my coinpurse/baby would probably be identical.

Anyway, I went shopping yesterday in  the Trade District – I don’t often go shopping (as everything on this Elune-damned continent is overpriced), but due to work stress and hormonal urges (I think that my unborn daughter has realised that I expect her to wear the third-hand overalls that we bought for Annie two years ago), I decided to go and act like a spendthrift. I bought the babies some new clothes (Analith won’t be parted from his human-style Diva! outfit), my husband some carpet slippers (which he accepted without a sarcastic remark), and — this is best of all! A COUPLES ENTERTAINMENT DEVICE. For those long and tedious summer nights where the entire city sleeps, and our kind are up and bored with nothing to do!

Of course, my mate had to go and be a spoilsport. “That’s not a couples’ entertainment device, that’s a wringer” he said, like the killjoy he truly is. How ridiculous! I thought, and told him so. I paid ten gold for this fabulous contraption, and we are going to spend many many nights turning the handles and laughing with hilarity together. What his problem is, I think, is that he cannot take the excitement at his age. I do feel sorry for him. But I won’t let him get out of it. He is going to spin those handles and like it.

Leafsong’s new couples’ entertainment device:

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Leafsong’s Diary 8.4 – In which Leafsong reports from a war zone!

I don’t like Northrend. I know that it’s a part of beloved Azeroth, which our Lady created, and as such we are bound to serve and protect it (etc. etc.), but the entire continent – ugh, I wouldn’t mourn for more than a minute if Azshara blasted it with her trident and it sunk beneath her waves. Sure, there are SOME regions which I can tolerate for more than a minute (Or, one. Namely Sholozar). But the rest! Let me go through them:

Borean Tundra: Swamp, swamp, dirt patch, robo-gnomes.
Dragonblight: Horrible, miles-wide graveyard.
Icecrown: More of the above ^
Storm Peaks: A pain to navigate, plus inhabited by giant women. Who are taller than me, so they must be freakish.
Zul’drak: Full of TROLLS.
Crystalsong Forest: What have they done to all the lovely trees!?
Howling Fjord: Inhabited by giant men.

So why do I find myself here, hiding inside a high elven tent in Windrunner’s Overlook, writing this while the sounds of battle ring about my ears?

Because my husband has decided that this insignificant little outpost, in the middle of the most pointless and aesthetically-unpleasing regions of Azeroth, is worth risking his life and unit for. Apparently the Horde feel the same way. It’s ridiculous! I’m freezing my balls off, I didn’t bring my protective leather gear, and the high elves are looking at me derisively for not joining the charge with the rest of the fools. What? Endanger my own life for this patch of arcane-mutated land?! No, thank you! I’m at least hoping that there’ll be some loot to gather on the field afterwards. I have my pliers at the ready, and will be keeping an eye out for gold teeth.

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Leafsong peered at her reflection warily in the flickering candlelight, noticing with dismay that a new spot had erupted on her forehead. The goblin behind her shifted on his crate, impatiently snipping the air with a pair of vicious-looking scissors. At nearly seven in the evening, she was the last customer of the day; the rest of the salon was deserted save for another goblin stylist reluctantly coerced into the role of babysitter for a drowsy Analith and Mirae.

“So.What are we after today?” The goblin perched somewhat precariously behind Leafsong, needing double the usual amount of props to bring himself alongside her bowed head.

She dragged her attention away from the pimple, blinking once or tiwce.

“Um. I ah, want- somefing alluring. I want to be sex kitty. For my ‘usband.”

The goblin looked at her long-nosed reflection doubtfully.

“Hrm. Ambitious. Oh well, we’ll give it a shot!”


Forty minutes later, he sheathed his scissors with a dramatic flourish.

“And we’re done!”

Leafsong gazed at her newly trimmed hair, somewhat tentatively. A large hunk of feathery green hair hung over her eyes.

“This bit- is in my face. Is meant to be in face..?”

“You’re supposed to smoulder alluringly through it, long-ears. If that’s too much effort for you, I can just make it a side parting!”

She shook her head hastily, flicking the hair over her eyes and pouting at him kittenishly. “Rrrrrrr! How about this?”

He shuddered. “You’re all done.”

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