The Bump Chronicles- 26 weeks and feeling it.

I can’t remember being this knackered last time round. I have just made myself a caffeinated coffee because it’s half ten in the morning and I’m not sure how much longer I can stay awake. It can’t be an iron deficiency because I’m taking supplements. Can the doctor sign me off on the grounds I need to be unconscious for at least half the day (and all of the night…)

Wednesday was an experience, little pea seemed to stretch out, I had limbs poking either side. It made shopping rather uncomfortable. Then I tried to pack my shopping into a car I don’t own. I made the mistake of waddling down the booze aisle looking at all the Christmas tipples I won’t be enjoying this year. No snowballs, no port, no fizz. But that wasn’t as depressing as going into a clothes shop and seeing all the lovely clothes I’m too fat for. I don’t want to buy any more maternity clothes I’ll only have them for a three and a bit months but I never like what I’m wearing. Hubs and I are going to Birmingham on Monday, I love seeing how people are dressed. In the big cites (I full on gawp in London, so many stylish people!) And I always like to make an effort especially as we’re going to wander round Selfridges and have lunch. Our last date before baby! (I’ll soon be flopped on then sofa like Jabba the Hutt demanding snacks and not bothering to get dressed, lucky hubs.) But I will have to wear what fits on Monday. I’m going to feel a little uncomfortable all day. But we’re hoping to buy Little Pea a teddy. A special first teddy. If Little Pea is anything like the bald kitten, the teddy will be ignored and some sort of lanky jungle animal brought by the grandparents will be the firm, rather smelly favourite!

I’m also at the fun stage of needing to wee every 24 seconds. I forgot how exhausting that is. I may just sit on the toilet now. Until baby comes.

The bald kitten still has absolutely no idea he’s got a sibling on the way, I suspect he just thinks I’m fat. We keep talking to him about it but I guess it’s a lot to take in.

I really should be cleaning but tiredness is kicking nesting’s arse at the moment. My nesting didn’t kick in until late last time. On the day I was booked in to be induced I was scrubbing all the doors upstairs. Hubs was stuck, he wanted to intervene but knows manic cleaning mode wifey can be snappy. I was also shitting myself because I knew in a few hours I’d be having a baby. That would come home to a house with mucky doors.

This continued when we brought our little prince home. Today he’s dropped all his grapes on the floor and then eaten them. I actually helped him pick them up. How times have changed!)

When I got back from the hospital, my mother and sister in law had put helium balloons and banners in the house, it was lovely to come home to! I was so out of it for the next week or so I’m not sure if I thanked them?

I’ve got about 14 weeks left. And I’m nervous. We’re going to have two babies. Then Kev is going to go back to work and I’ve got to hold the fort. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod. I predict a train wreck for at least the first four months. Bear with me kiddos.

In other news:

When the boy isn’t watching Paw Patrol, he’s telling me all about it. Captain Turbot has made ‘the list’.

I’ve got a hen weekend in Brighton coming up, can’t wait for some girly time and a weekend with Twinothy.

The boy’s new favourite thing is feeding the cats treats. Pretty sure they’re both going to be obese soon.

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18 weeks – feels remarkably like all the other weeks so far.

My belly is a now constant reminder that I have a little pea swimming about in my uterus. I’m starting to feel the swimming which is very reassuring.

Speaking of swimming, Will started lessons four weeks ago. They’re all about getting the little one used to water and swim ready. There are songs and games and LOTS of splashing. It’s quite a workout for us as there is a lot of throwing the boy around. One of the exercises is to hold a novelty float and kick the water as an adult holds and guides you across the pool. Except Will doesn’t kick. He shouts ‘Weeeeeeeeeeee!’ with his feet sticking out of the water whilst hubs does all the work. It’s funny as hell but a tad frustrating when you’re repeating ‘kick, kick, kick!’ in a high pitched forced enthusiastic voice whilst he has a half an hour rest in the water. Hubs does the lesson with him as I’m not quite in a condition to throw a toddler about. I use the time to swim a few lengths. It’s nice to feel weightless for a bit and will be more so the more massive I get.

Today was busy, I had a lot to contend with; young teenaged girls showing off for the lanky teenaged lifeguard. Families treating the pool like it was a resort fun pool and throwing balls all over the sodding place, lanky teenaged lifeguard not noticing on account of the girls who seemed to be doing a lot of spinning? One of said girls climbed out of the pool in a teeny tiny bikini then slipped over, got up and did the over theatrical hysterical laughing and loudly telling her friend that she had just fallen over, to let anyone who might have seen it happen that she wasn’t completely mortified. I’m frankly quite jealous, if I’d have slipped over like that there’s no way in hell I could have got up so quickly.

We’ve visited friends this weekend and spent Saturday exploring Hampton Court Palace. The boy was fairly well behaved. We had a couple of public meltdowns, he loved stamping his feel in the large wooden floored rooms because it made a great sound. I do feel for the tourists with the audio guides as they had our little foghorn to contend with. The boy doesn’t see a rope barrier as something to keep behind and we uttered several frantic ‘Will, come here!’ Before we were told off or ejected. Although I have to say he senses the desperation in your voice and the more panicked you sound, the less likely he is to come back. Such fun!

We had a long drive home (got to love the M25) so swimming was a welcome stretch after being cooped up. We also had a mega tantrum in the services because we asked the bald kitten to put back a wheeled George Pig book, he didn’t want to put it back, he wanted us to cough up the £8 for it. When it became clear that would not be happening he screamed blue bloody murder. We were stared at. And across the car park as the tantrum continued which only stopped once he was strapped in his car seat. ‘Stopped crying now’ was the sentence for the next few miles.

Swimming has worn him out so definitely an early night. I can’t imagine hubs and I will be up more later. Tomorrow I have my whooping cough jab to look forward to.

In other news:

Marms, the majestic hunter that she is has just tried to catch a fly that’s on the other side of the window pane.

I nearly fainted today, turns out I’m a bit of a fainter in this pregnancy…

Holiday countdown has geared up a notch so the pressure is on to make sure the clothes are clean tomorrow instead of spending the day drinking tea and eating biscuits…