Tuesday, 13 December 2011

Off you go to work!

Quite helpfully, MrM's NEW phone has been playing up so when I call him, it goes straight to voicemail and he doesn't realise I've phoned for hours. Fortunately, nothing is about to happen that entails calling him urgently....

Anyway, it meant this morning that he'd used the alarm on my mobile to get him up at 6.30am. I felt terrible sending him off to work to earn a crust while I stay at home doing not very much. My constant trips to the loo and continual tossing and turning are keeping him awake. And while he's at work, I'm spending afternoons sleeping - I feel a massive conflict between resting (as I won't get much sleep in the next few months) and getting things done. But sleep is impossible when you're the size of a whale and can't get comfortable in any position at all. I can't seem to switch my mind off either. The dream I had last night where the baby was French set me off down a rabbit hole of existential thoughts - what makes a baby French? COuld our baby be French? Why French?

Yesterday afternoon, after wasting the day (although to be fair, the weather wasn't exactly enticing), I spoke to someone who said she'd never been at a birth. I am wondering now if she witnessed a preview as while we were chatting, I missed being hit by a speeding car by about an inch (I'm not as nimble as I used to be) and I unleashed a torrent of ridiculous language. I'm not very good at swearing.

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