The Artist in Residence

Dear Purple Frockers,

I may have been silent, but I’ve been hatching some big news… literally.  I have a little Artist in Residence (also known as The Little Dot), who despite only measuring 7cm has caused a lot of havoc and amazing changes over the last three months. Just like its mother, the Little Dot is an overachiever and totally kicked butt on all of the terrifying tests that one has to face at the 13 week mark, especially being of “advanced maternal age”. Ugh. 

All things going well, the Little Dot will arrive late July / early August, and I’m just so thrilled. There may not be any dating stories for a while, but it came to the point that the baby had to happen now, and the Late Dude can turn up later on, without the pressure of being a single woman of a certain age who wants a child.  I’m open to Baby no 2 if the Late Dude gets himself into gear and appears in time.

 Much love from the Purple Frock and the Little Dot.

Little Dot



The Gatekeeper

A few months ago, a Rare and Welcome Event occurred.  The secret witches’ network was activated, and word reached a close friend’s ear that an Eligible Bachelor was in need of a wife and kids. Pronto.  By all accounts, he was quite the catch. Tall, handsome, works out, well-educated, into the arts, wonderful with children, desperately wants a family, and all round lovely guy. Why wasn’t he already snaffled? He’s an upper limb surgeon (ie locked away from society studying for years and years), works long hours, and reluctant to date women within his work circle. I got it, and wasn’t bothered by his background nor the long hours.  It all sounded promising, apart from potential dinner time arguments about whether or not to operate for carpal tunnel syndrome and similar use-related injuries. My line of work in rehabilitation is strongly on the NO side in case you hadn’t guessed.

The catch?  The sister-in-law, who was advocating on behalf of her husband’s brother, wanted to meet me. I wasn’t terribly keen. After being on many a blind first date I wasn’t phased by one more, let alone a potentially good one. So reluctantly, I had to go through the gatekeeper to get to the guy.

Now the Gatekeeper was actually an elegant, incredible lady, who arrived with her gorgeous half-Malaysian daughter. Her purpose in meeting me was two-fold. She wanted to share her story of meeting her now husband at 40, and having two beautiful kids naturally by 43, giving me hope that I could have a similar story to tell one day. The second reason was to tell me face to face that while her brother-in-law thought I sounded very interesting, attractive, blah di blah, he didn’t want to meet me because he wanted children, and I was 40.

Ouch.  Double ouchy ouch. 

I was still easing into the 4 instead of 3 in front of my age, and this was the first time that I had been dismissed (to my face anyway) because of my supposed inability to have children at my age. It was a huge wake up call. While part of me was pretty annoyed that this was from a guy in his mid-40s (try donating your jizz now cowboy, you are over the line as well!), it was also very upsetting. If supposedly decent guys who really want a family write me off without even a meeting, then that doesn’t bode well for the future as my numbers keep getting higher.

The Elegant Gatekeeper and I have kept in touch, and in line with her kind nature, she has offered me her baby car seat and a stack of other miscellaneous baby bits should that day of need arrives. If that day comes, I would like the Dismissive Doctor to see the baby photos. Good luck trying to date 20 somethings dude. Grrrr.