Monday, February 22, 2010

The radio-pop-horoscope game

I am too logical and science-y minded to believe in superstition, but it's funny how the thoughts pop into your mind anyway. When I was a teenager, I used to play the radio-pop-horoscope game: I'd say, right, the next song on the radio will have some predictive resonance for my near future (or, in teenage-speak: the words will tell me if some boy likes me.)

Today I said, right, the next song on the radio will reveal something about the bambino inside. The song that followed? I've got you under my skin. Ah, I see. I'd be okay with metaphorical. I wasn't expecting the literal.

Later I was changing pillowcases and I could only find 3 out of 4 matching ones. I started to think, hmm, what does that mean? Something bad? I had to lasso the frisky pony of my mind and tell it not to be irrational.

I like the names of some of the classes I take Hugh to. We used to go to Mini Music Makers. Now we go to Boogie Babies. Earlier I bought him a heart-shaped helium balloon from a charity shop. He carried it round all day (like Winnie the Pooh) and referred to it as his 'boon'.


Sunday, February 21, 2010

Laundry luck in week 36

So, I took a risk and put my 'dry clean only' cream coat in a 40 degree white wash. Feeling cavalier, I threw in my white trainers (sneakers) too. Everything came out fine and clean - the soles of the trainers looked shop-new again. Oh, the small victories of domestic life.

The pregnancy train is pulling into week 36 and I'm willing it on to week 37. Any baby born between week 37 and week 42 is 'full term' within the normal range. The hospital has given me a due date of 21st of March, but I'd be happy if my body was ready any time from March 1st (week 37). Hugh arrived at week 38 (on the same night Barack Obama was winning the US election).

So anyway, dear readers, I am looking after myself and thinking about the month of March.


Saturday, February 06, 2010

Pass the croissants...

Yes, it has gradually happened - I've become an infrequent poster. I'm excusing myself on this account. I was amazed to realise the blog has almost been going six years now, so it's allowed a wee rest by the side of the road.

I am week 33 of the pregnancy and, once again, I look like I have a space-hopper up my jumper. 'You look identical to last time,' said a friend, and she is right. I am 'carrying' the same way.

I have to take iron tablets for pregnancy anaemia. The tablets give me an irritable stomach and the instructions recommend avoiding tea and wheat for an hour beforehand and two hours afterwards. I don't think there is a 3 hour compartment of my life (especially my pregnant life) that doesn't involve a sip of tea or a bread product. Ah, bread... I'd be rubbish on an Atkin's diet.

Better get off to bed. More news if I have it. I'll not be too far away.