Once upon a time...

I was sexy. No, really, I was. When I met hubby, I was 20, and perhaps a tad too skinny (I'd just trained as a lifeguard and had taken up "popmo" aerobics). Legs up to my armpits. Narrow waist. The flattest of stomachs. Hot wardrobe, including THE pink strappy dress. Jelly shoes as many old Reithers will recall :)
This is not just hindsight, I really had a great figure.

Today I wake up with...
LOVE HANDLES
and
A WHOLE LINE OF STRETCH MARKS under my belly.

Neither were there yesterday. 7 weeks to go; it can only get worse.

Hubby has already long decided that I am maternal, cute, sweet, beautiful... but not sexy. After baby comes, will I ever be sexy in his eyes again? Sure, if I lose the weight and wear tight clothes (over the stretch marks) other men miight think I am a hot mamma. But my husband? Who has witnessed the gradual deterioration of the physique that caught his attention in the first place? Hubby, who will be doing his David Attenborough at the "business end" on the day of pupo's grand entrance to the World?

This probably seems horribly shallow to you all: mums or non mums. It IS vanity, admittedly. But it is also insecurity (maybe put like that I can make you feel sorry for me!). I want to be all things to all people. So far, I have managed to be smart, successful, hard working, attractive, well dressed and loyal. Now I have to be a great mother too. How can I add another string to my bow without losing some of the others? Especially the "attractive" string. And if I become less of anything else, will my hubby still want me?

Damn, I'm screwed up today.

33

The Pram is Here!!

Finally! Only took 3 weeks, numberless visits to the shipping company, an inspection by the customs man and over 2 hours to assemble (one of which was spent trying to work out how to put the hood up and down on the carrycot). But here it is, and it is fabulous :) Thank you, mummy/grandma :)
Very happy indeed.

Had been planning to do the babywashing this weekend and Get Prepared but I'm not sure I feel inspired now. Might wait till next weekend in the hope that I can find it "exciting" rather than just another chore. My back is rubbish today, because I rolled over onto it during the night and woke up really stiff :( But at least I can "work from home" = lounge on sofa reading a book and getting paid for it :)

Weekend plans are cleaning and shopping. Haud me back, as they say in Glasgow. I might take a wee drive up the fjörd to go check out our personal iceberg as it is lying quite near the coast and I could get a good look. No polar bears, thankfully (all very cute on tv, but vicious sods on land, especially if they are starved having been stuck on an iceberg for 3 weeks).

The midwife suggested we ring up the hospital and arrange a "tour" of the birthing suite, etc. but I really can't be bothered this weekend. Maybe next weekend. Not sure if I am just in denial about the whole thing or just tired. But I'm quite sure my enthusiasm will return and I will be champing at the bit to go check it all out soon enough.

32+5

Holidays :)

What a fantastic trip we had!! We got home yesterday after quite a tour of the small Island. We started with our parents in tow and drove down to the National Park where the North Atlantic and the European plates of the earth meet, creating a giant cliff in the middle of the land. On the way we passed many a fjörd, including one with this big huge white thing in the middle. I wanted to go take a closer look, saying: "I think that's an Iceberg!" which notion was ridiculed by hubby ("you only get icebergs in iceland every 50 years") and my dad muttering "I'll be very surprised if it is an iceberg."

So, closer we go, and further up the fjörd there is another one, enormous and DEFINITELY an iceberg. Pregnant, but not stupid. A little smug, perhaps too...

We continued on to said natural park area and stayed in a little summerhouse for a few days, driving around and seeing the sights, including a big geysir and an enormous waterfall, not to mention the lake area with said parting of earth's plates.

Onwards to Reykjavik, mum and dad went home, and hubby and I began our Grand Tour. Which was absolutely brilliant. The Romabíll behaved impeccably without so much as a hiccup and wasn't even particularly uncomfortable (apart from the gravel roads, that is, those were noooo fun).

We saw an artic fox, a great skua, a herd of wild reindeer sauntering casually along the beach (then had some for dinner, yum yum). We sailed around a lagoon full of icebergs which fall of Vatnjökull (the biggest glacier in Europe) and I even managed a considerable walk up to one of its glacier tongues. Let's just say from the road it looked very close; in fact, when we were at the road, it may have BEEN close, but given my own glacial pace these days, I think it was moving faster than we were.

As we turned the final bend to come back home, we found a giant iceberg in our very own fjörd.

Back to work now but not planning anything too energetic for a wee while.

Off to see the stand-in midwife this afternoon (our own is on vacation) but nothing to report healthwise as I am feeling really great.

32+3

30 weeks

and all is well. We're getting ready to go our Grand Tour of Iceland. Mum and Dad arrive on Tuesday and we will set off our holidays on Thursday. We start off in a summer house for a few days together. A summer house with central heating, I should add, seeing as it was snowing the other day. But it is sunny now and if all goes well, it will at least stay dry. Er pupo is behaving himself and will hopefully stay put at least till I get home. In fact, at least until July because I have house guests coming in June. Hubby arrived at about this stage, 30 years ago but we're not planning any surprises this time.

Thankfully I seem to have stopped growing, at least for a bit, so, although I have looked 7 months pregnant for about 2 months, I STILL only look 7 months pregnant, now I actually am 7 months pregnant. As long as I can still fit in the car for our trip :)

I'll be back towards the end of May.

30

The Cot is Up!

And it was a doddle! Just 12 screws, so hubby held and I screwed. (Oh, enough already of your dirty minds.) Looks very nice too, all white and sweet. It is 120cm long, but since a newborn is about 50cm long, all stretched out, pupo is going to disappear in it! We laid a babygrow in it and it looked so tiny.

Life is much more relaxed already in the absence of teaching. Just as well, seeing as I must have relaxed enough this weekend to allow myself to get sick and now have a sore throat and generally feeling sorry for myself condition. Not helped by the fact I can't drug myself up to the eyeballs. Afternoon nap yesterday turned out to be a bad investment as I then had terrible trouble sleeping during the night - made infinitely worse by hubby snoring, clearing throat, flipping about and generally being a royal pain in the butt. All his fault, of course, not the fact that I wasn't tired after my long nap and had a sore throat, sore back and sore head.

Mum and Dad arrive in a week and we shall go our Grand Tour. Should be fun. Relying on the trusty Romabíll not to break down and on the even less reliable pupo not to make a surpise appearance at the top of a glacier. He's been very quiet these past few days and I am trying not to worry as I'm sure in my head it is just a "growth spurt" (I've been knackered too and seem to have grown - AGAIN) but it is hard to not feel a wee bit nervous. Good excuse to eat chocolate though, just to coax him into action :)

29+2

Ooooh Lucky Me!

Work do, last night, to celebrate the end of term. HURRAH!!! Finally here! I am still working, but can put in much fewer hours and do lots at home :) And I got a surprise bonus in my paycheck of about 160 GBP, so that will buy a few babygrows.

I managed to win TWO prizes in the raffle, both of them enormously useful for someone in my condition:
1) 2 hours on a sunbed. hmmm... not something I would consider at the best of times. If I want a tan, I'll go to Italy and get a tan. What do people DO for 2 hours sitting on a sunbed? All sounds very odd. Still, my friend says she'll use it so it won't go to waste.

2) A half hour golf lesson with a pro and 1 round of golf for two people. 18 holes. To be taken this summer. Summer, I might add, is looking a long way off (yes, I know we had a holiday for the first day of summer, but May Day tomorrow has brought with it sleet again, so I'm not getting my bikini out just yet). I have never golfed. Not posh enough, not by far. No idea how to hold a club and swing it. Though I do suspect that the rather large bump in front of me could pose some logistical problems. And 18 holes! I reckon I could manage to walk about 2 and then need a good long nap to recover. That's without the 16 shots to actually pot the ball (or whatever refined golfing expression may be.) Perhaps they will let me take one a day for 18 days... that's if there ARE 18 days of summer in Iceland...

Just relieved I didn't win the one month's membership of the gym. Phew!

I had some trouble getting into my maternity "party" frock so I wasn't in the most self confident of spirits going out. The belly was fine, oh yes, it all floats about there and has lots of room. Unfortunately, the designer seems to have failed to take into account the fact that one's boobs tend to inflate during pregnancy and the size 10 was more than a little optimistic. Still, people (trying to be kind, I am sure) told me I looked "nice." Including one woman who said I looked "handsome." Then spoiled it all by adding: "You must be what? 8 months?" Ouch! I'm now terrified that someone will come up to me in August and ask me when the baby is due...

Meanwhile, it seems I was somewhat harsh on the parents of chicken-pox child: turns out they hadn't realised she had chicken pox till they got to the party and only realised then. I'm not showing any signs, but then the incubation period for chicken pox is a ridiculous 10-14 days so there's still time. But mummy assures me that I had it bad as a baby and should be fine. I shall be here to moan should the worst transpire.

28+6