Tee hee.

In other news, 8 weeks to go, and I am completely knackered. But the little one is growing very well, according to my midwife this morning, and he is, very pleasingly, in the right position. He’s also got his feet wedged under my ribs at the moment. Hurrah! (ow.)

There is someone I encounter fairly regularly, though truth be told I barely know her, who just perplexes bemuses annoys the hell out of me, and I’m trying to decide whether I’ve turned into a model of intolerance or whether I actually have cause to be perplexed/bemused/annoyed.

She started out by offering unsolicited advice on what not to do in pregnancy, and asking me whether I was experiencing morning sickness, etc. Then more recently, out of the blue she suddenly asked me ‘how are your ankles’. Then she randomly invited me along to lunch with someone else, which I regret to say I rather ungracefully and rapidly declined. But today she has really got on my wotsits by asking how on earth a tiny thing like me could possibly eat the massive amount I was warming up in the microwave for my lunch. Which is exactly what a pregnant lady coping with an expanding bum and thighs needs to hear. And it was only a jacket potato with some filling plopped on the top.

Bwarrrrrrrrggghhhhh.

Is it just me being tetchy? I am normally unfailingly polite with people even when they are being muppets but she makes me want to just ignore her completely. Which is kind of what I did today, again much to my shame.

I would just like to say that Mr B’s Emporium, 14-15 John Street, Bath, BA1 2JL, is one of the bestest bookshops in the world. Go make them some money if you’re in the area.

(Taken from http://myplaypen.blogspot.com/)

A dragonfly has 6 legs, and a spider has 8 legs. There are 20 bugs and 144 legs. How many dragonflies and how many spiders are there?

Can someone tell me how you are supposed to solve this without using algebra??

I have 8 weeks of work left before I go on maternity leave, and think I am beginning to understand why so many people say they wish they had stopped working sooner. At nearly 29 weeks I seem to be developing a whole host of pregnancy cliches like unstable hips; a growing inability to put on my shoes, cut my toenails or turn over in bed properly; or sleep without dreaming of serial killers/giving birth within two seconds in a supermarket/eating multiple eggs before realising I’m not supposed to eat egg whites and then having to contemplate heaving up the lot.

I am also walking like a little old lady and have had to abandon all my 3-inch heels in favour of not falling head over heels down/up the stairs/along the corridors at work. Having said that I was quite chuffed to have been told twice in the past week that I was looking fabulous, so I clearly deserve some brownie points for not having given up completely (not just yet, anyway).

It has also taken some adjustment being a bit cuddlier and less angular than normal. Half of me is sensible and realises that without the extra padding, six months and more of exclusive breastfeeding as per the plan is probably going to result in something akin to a shrivelled crone. The other half looks in the mirror and thinks ARRRGGGGHHH LOOK AT THOSE THIGHS. Then I come full circle and decide that the pregnant body is actually an incredibly sexy and womanly creation and I should really be enjoying it while it lasts. On the whole, that last mindset is the one I think I’ll stick with.

Perhaps the biggest change, though, is the inability that I seem to have developed to get truly stressed, together with having acquired the gift of a proper work-life balance. This is why I am blogging after having gone shopping and for a nice lunch, when the actual plan for today was to finish typing up a set of notes and get a speech well underway, and why, at 15:23, I think I might go and have a nap soon. Somehow things will get done. And they do.