"It's just nine months this time" he reassured us. "Then I'm back for good"
Little O: That's not a fattree
Me: Yes it is, it's a Fact - tory.
Little O: No, a fattree is a tree, like in the wood, which has a big round tummy, bigger than mine or... (looking at the bump) yours. That's a fat- tree.
A 'Who's Who?' page on my blog.
Another bollock of day
During this day, I often felt like I was reliving Michael Douglas' emotions in Falling Down, but as I now put it into print, it doesn't seem at all that bad and I am suddenly aware of what a drama queen I am. Hormones must have been raging on this day.
The day started with a tooth ache, which whenever things started to go wrong throbbed and ached a little bit more. Then, I spent too long in the shower as I was pleading with my tooth to stop hurting, when I came downstairs I discovered Fearless had removed over half my laptop keys and had squeezed as many as he could into his mouth. FEARLESS!
Any spare moment I had in the following, torturous nine hours were spent either a) looking for microscopically small clips on the floor or b) at the laptop with tweezers in one hand, the other acting as a guard between the keys and Fearless, whilst my one armed pair of glasses continuously slipped down my nose and I frustratingly jerked my head to hold them in place.. This was tedious, stressful, mostly fruitless and generally resulting in me screaming child-friendly expletives at the lap top and making deep throated growls at the Fearless.
The tooth ache continued to gnaw at my nerves and I attempted the first school run of the year, by foot. Fearless screamed all the way there, baby no.3 jiggled and wriggled against my bladder, and Little O cried all the way home because he was tired and thirsty. It was joy.
The Return of Strictly
A new school year
Little O starts reception. *Gulp*. He's ready. I'm ready. But it isstill is such a massive step and the end of such a wonderful time. However, I am determined to have some quality time with Fearless, if the bump will allow; it's ever-growing presence seems to have other ideas. Elsewhere, The FH is still sulking that the holidays are over.
Another embarrassing moment
Sunday is swimming day. As a family we half a 45 minute swim before Little O's lesson, Then O patiently drips dry on the edge of the pool, waiting for his lesson to start. We make a dash for the changing rooms so we can watch him and 9 other 4 year olds, drift around the pool, crashing into one another for half an hour. I take my time getting changed with Fearless whilst The FH makes a swift transformation, superhero style, to watch Little O start his lesson.
Long discussions, with no resolution, about baby names