Not a modern plastique type bomb either with mercury switches and multicoloured wires, but one of those old fashioned cannon-balls-with-comedy-fuse style bombs much beloved of cartoon coyotes and pirates everywhere.
It must be so, I tell myself, because as if by some cosmic sign, everyone in my life has gone from “meh” to “high alert” overnight. The midwives are calling me on a freakishly regular basis to discuss details of the homebirth (what was wrong with the last 8 months? We could have spread them out and had some fun along the way!!), Keith is answering the phone each time with an optimistic “are you in labour yet???!?” and my workmates have spent the day wishing me luck, despite the fact I don’t finish for another week.
None of this is helping my mood any, which right now is a sultry combination of over tired and generally antsy.
I don’t recommend it.
Having hit both reflexology and yoga this week (both of which had some dramatic if short lived relaxing effects) I’m not entirely sure I have anything left to throw at the situation – except perhaps a weekend of light activity, copious amount of sleep and perhaps some nice spicy food. If I get time between that little lot I might even indulge in some nursery photography, birth ball bouncing and even some housework, although Keith seems to have stolen my nesting instincts on that front, much to my shock he vacuumed the house at about 7 this morning “because it needed doing”.
I thought it a little churlish to point out that it ALWAYS needs doing and it has never encouraged him to brandish the vacuum cleaner before, and counted my blessings instead that it was one less thing to do this weekend.
As is the breadmaking, after Keith made TWO whole loaves while I was out at yoga last night.
Seriously, it’s getting freaky round at FTC. Anyone wondering what to get y’man for Christmas might want to consider a pinny.
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