Wednesday, May 30

She's here...

Gwen arrived on Saturday 26th May at 9.43am, after a dramatic entrance that involved:

  • Me not realising I was in labour and sleeping through half of it
  • Almost giving birth in the car, clutching a copy of 'What to Expect When You're Expecting' open on the 'Emergency Delivery' page
  • Mr Meep almost missing the main event because he was trying to find change for the parking meter

    Details to follow...
  • Thursday, May 24

    Mini Meep's Due Date

    Number of babies appeared: 0
    Number of babies looking like they might appear any time soon: 0
    Number of times woken up in the night wondering if slight crampy tummy caused by yummy South Indian food is, in fact, labour pains: About six million


    Tuesday, May 22

    Things that I can confirm do not induce labour

    ... even if you do them all on the same day.

  • Raspberry leaf tea
  • Bouncing on the birthing ball during an entire episode of Dr Who
  • Hot curry
  • Long walks
  • Going down the stairs sideways
  • Evening Primrose Oil
  • Um... sex

    The only one I haven't tried is fresh pineapple, but I'm allergic and would end up with a big swollen head.

    Ah well, I'm having a lovely time meeting people for lunch and coffees, going for lots of swims ans walks and, of course, eating many cakes.

    I've handed in a project for my digital photography course, sorted out the garden, filled the freezer with various home-cooked treats and have almost finished spring cleaning the house.

    All I need now is a small person to arrive. Preferably quite quickly and relatively pain-free if that's OK.
  • Monday, May 14

    Furry Love

    I couldn't find the pets earlier. It was a sunny day and the back door was open, so I looked in the garden - they weren't there.

    I thought maybe they were sleeping in the lounge, but nope, no sign of them there either.

    Sometimes they like to hang out at the top of the stairs, so I had a look there. Not a pet in sight.

    I went upstairs to the spare room. And there they were. Cwtched up on the futon, nose to nose, fast asleep.


    Wednesday, May 9

    I have a confession to make...

    I've been eating my friends.

    No, not literally my friends. They're all still here. I haven't become a cannibal or owt. I mean our gilled friends that live under the water - the fishes.

    I did dabble in fish on honeymoon in Morocco, until an incident with an eyeball reminded me of the reality and put me off for the next four years.

    This time, it all started with a trip to the beach when I'd just found out I was pregnant. I'd read lots of books with info on pregnancy nutrition, stressing the importance of fishy things for your growing sproglet.

    After a long walk on a windy beach, we often stop off at the Best Chip Shop in the World* for something suitably stodgy to scoff in the car while looking at the sea. Somtimes we'd have a flask of tea - you know, like proper old people.

    Usually, I'd have some chips, lots of vinegar and ketchup, maybe a buttered roll. This time, my head filled with Dr Miriam Stoppard's advice to stuff as much fish down my neck as possible or else my baby will leave school with no GCSEs and a collection of ASBOs, I ordered... a piece of cod. I have to admit, it was tasty. Since then, it's progressed to...

    Fish pie
    Teryaki Salmon
    Tuna mayo in jacket potatoes
    Smoked salmon pasta
    Sweet and sour king prawns from the Chinese

    And on holiday in Cornwall, I ate the whole sea.

    Anyway, last night, insomnia came to visit. I was sitting up at some ungodly hour reading The Pig Who Sang to the Moon and it hit me - this is wrong, wrong, wrong. When Kurt Cobain said "It's OK to eat fish, cos they don't have any feelings", I think he was being ironic, right?

    I woke Mr Meep up to dramatically declare "I'm not eating any more fish!", to which he replied "Zzzzzz... What?... Oh.... Zzzzzzzz."

    So that's that. I've saved this bit of PETA propaganda in my favourites in case Colin the Cod comes waving his tempting battered self at me again.

    Anyway, I've confessed. And now I've stopped. I feel better already. And anyway, it couldn't last, as this conversation was inevitably bound to crop up over the next few years...

    Mini Meep: "Mummy, why don't we eat meat?"
    Me: "Well, Mini Meep, meat comes from animals and animals are our friends, and we don't eat our friends. Imagine eating Blod or Zebedee."
    Mini Meep: "What about fishies - aren't they our friends too?"
    Me: "Er... um... oh look, a hedgehog!"

    Right, I'm off to put the mung bean casserole on.

    *Sidoli's in Porthcawl, if you're ever passing.

    Tuesday, May 8

    My dog is a mutant

    Blod, that's my dog - this one here...

    ... has eleven nipples.

    Surely that can't be right?

    (And how do I know this? Look, I'm on maternity leave - everyone else is at work. I've done the cleaning and the gardening, the shopping and the washing, so I've got a lot of time on my hands, OK?)

    Sunday, May 6

    Taking it Easy

    Advice from a pregnancy website:

    "... As your baby's arrival nears, your body is going through some of the most intense changes of your whole pregnancy. Try not to do too much, and focus on taking care of yourself by getting plenty of rest... "

    And here's me, yesterday. After a six-mile walk...

    Minutes before climbing to the top of this...

    I think I have become the bionic woman.