Day 29, run 6

Well, the running hit a slight bump in the road the weekend before last, when my sore throat turned into a full-on cold (with cold sweats and feeling shaky and shivery) and then a cough. Which didn't really help with the running. I had to postpone the last run of week 1 until I was feeling better and more reliably able to breathe.

However, I did pick it up again on Tuesday (still coughing a bit, but not enough to hold me back) and haven't really lost too much ground; I did Week 2 on  Thursday, Saturday and today, and if I run Wednesday-Friday-Sunday and then start Week 4 on Tuesday again I will be back in sync with the rest of the group. I can do this.

Today I ran my 1km in 6 minutes 56 seconds - my first time under seven minutes since I started, and I'm quite pleased with that. My feet aren't hurting, either. On my next workout, the distance run goes up - and I will admit, I'm a bit daunted. But everyone else has to do it too...

The Peanut was also unwell and had to have a couple of days off nursery, to his grief (he loves nursery). However, he's back up to speed now. We have been using a sticker chart to persuade him to stop sucking his thumb in the early morning when he wakes up (five stickers earns a bribe - this week's was a Thomas the Tank Engine comic) but I'm not sure he's taking it all that seriously, to be honest. He likes stickers, but he can live without them. At the moment he's announcing each evening whether he will have a wet or dry thumb in the morning and he's almost always correct...

Day 19, run 2

Out for my second run today. I was doing quite well to get out, since I have had a sore throat for the past few days and felt pretty rough this morning, but I was feeling better by late afternoon.

It all went smoothly although there were definitely more people (and cars) around at 5pm than at 1.30 - I guess they're all going home from work! So I had slightly more of an audience... oh well. The traffic didn't come along at any point when I actually wanted to cross the road, which was handy. My feet didn't hurt this time, so hopefully I have learned how to tie my laces properly after all these years.

I have got RunKeeper working now, although I haven't yet figured out how to enter a workout with splits, so I had to do all the bits as separate workouts. Not a big deal. The GPS appears to work pretty well, despite the route being down in a valley.


The total distance (with the walk from home included) was almost exactly 3.5 km.
1km walk: 1.1km, 8:52, avg pace 8.47
Freestyle run: 1.3km (how?) 7:07, avg pace 6:56

So I'm seeing quite an improvement in the numbers from last time: a whopping 1:56 faster on the walk (lacing my trainers properly must really have made a difference!) and 35 seconds quicker on the run. It helps to have the somewhat strict RunKeeper lady telling me when I've done five minutes; I did the last part of the run the quickest, probably because I wasn't worrying about peaking too soon by then.

And it took my mind off the referendum for a while...

Day 17, run 1

I went out for my first Up and Running run today!

I'd downloaded an app called Runkeeper but hadn't got it working yet. So I stuck to the fairly low-tech method of the stopwatch function on my phone, plus a pre-plotted route and pencil and paper. I'm not going to post the full details, but Week 1 involves a 1K walk and then another 1K adding in some running, and I'm going to list the times for those parts of the workout.

I decided to go running in the industrial estate close to my house. Ooh, the glamour - but it's actually fairly nice: one side of the road has trees running along a riverbank with a golf course and a large hill on the far bank. The other side is metal warehouse-looking buildings but you can't have everything! It's reasonably flat, which is rare around here, and the traffic is quiet. It takes just under five minutes to walk there from my house, which is handy.

The fast-walk stage went fairly well but felt like hard work. By this point I was quite warm (not going to wear a longsleeved top next time) and my feet were hurting, because although I know that my feet expand when they get warm, I always lace my trainers too tightly to start with. The last bit of the km was on the road, and as I was marching along uphill past some roadworks, one of the guys called out "Shouldn't you be running?" Thanks, pal.

After pausing to stretch again and loosen my laces a bit I ran back the same way. I didn't run anything like the whole time, but it seemed to pass much quicker so I knew I was managing to go faster. By the time I got back to my start point I was glowing all over!

The numbers:

1K walk: 10.48 (approx, because I was so relieved to stop and sort my shoes out that I forgot to hit stop on the stopwatch for a few seconds)
Freestyle 1K run: 7.42 (much better than I was hoping!)

Day 16

Last week was a bit less than ideal diet-wise since it was my birthday (hello 35), we had guests, and we went out to eat several times. Not that I'm complaining about any of that! You can't always expect to have perfect control over where and when you eat and what's on offer.

So on the whole I was happy that the scales today say exactly what they said last week - no move in either direction.

I had a lovely birthday - my brother came down and I went for lunch with him, J, my lovely mother-in-law and the Sweetpea (the Peanut had been hustled off to nursery after a sandwich lunch; his timetable at the moment doesn't really allow for going out to lunch on weekdays). I also got a variety of splendid gifts including a necklace with planets on, books, DVDs, a knitting kit and some quilting fabric. Highly satisfactory!

Then on Wednesday J, MIL and I took the kids to Almond Valley Heritage Centre and they saw lots of animals and learned what you do with a trampoline:

J and I went out to Pizza Express on Friday by ourselves, after MIL reminded us that we were yet to take her up on her offer of a meal and babysitting for an anniversary present. That was very pleasant too. Though it was a bit chilly coming home. Wednesday was very sunny, but the year is ticking on.

Day 8

First weekly weigh-in...

Up 1lb since last week :(

(It is traditional at this point to say something about increased muscle mass or water weight but I don't really think those are the reasons.)

I've been doing well at the snack-avoiding, have had nothing sugary other than the odd bit of fruit, and I've moved somewhat more than the week before, I think. I've done a fair amount of brisk walking with the buggy, enough to get hot. I have been very hungry in the evenings, though...

Two possibilities: the snack-avoiding doesn't amount to as many calories as I thought, and it isn't making enough difference; or it amounts to more than I thought and the body is protesting and going into starvation mode. Which seems unlikely. I guess I'm going to have to count calories for a bit and see what my daily intake actually is. Maybe I'll start on Wednesday; tomorrow is my birthday and I believe there will be cake (in moderate quantities, OK?)

I'd have to say that in the past, I've tried calorie-counting and the numbers have sat stubbornly in the same place unless I was doing a lot of exercise as well. Still, onwards and upwards (or downwards, I hope).

The Up and Running fora are now open for chat, but the actual running doesn't start properly until next week (the first week is all about motivation and mindsets). I may take myself out for a little trot at some point regardless. I haven't managed to get a sports watch yet, though, so perhaps it's just as well we're not starting the timed stuff yet.

Day three

Eating: going OK so far. Exercise: not so good, but I have plans.

So far I have stuck to the plan of not eating between meals, and I hope it's doing something, because (not that I'm moaning, or anything) I'm hungry rather a lot of the time. The reason why I decided to do it this way is that I tend not to eat mindfully between meals. I don't THINK it adds up to much at the time, but over the course of the day it probably does.

The daytime is all right - plenty of other things to think about - but during the evening I am having to exert a bit of willpower. There is fairly substantial evidence that it's healthier not to eat late in the evening, so if I can train myself not to, that will be a bonus. I've been knocking off various sewing and mending projects.

Exercising... I could absolutely have gone out for a couple of hours this morning, and I didn't (I did do a fair amount of cleaning instead; my husband's been doing most of the housework this summer to let me study, so it's my turn). I haven't added anything to the activity I would normally do.

This is somewhat feeble since my afternoons, for example, aren't nearly as busy as they used to be; my son's at nursery school and my daughter has a nap for two hours (which does mean someone needs to be in the house, but I could get an exercise video or something... bleah. I never much fancy exercise videos.)

So some mindset adjustment needs to happen. I have signed up for the Up and Running 5K running course, which requires you to do three one-hour training sessions a week - and if I can't schedule three measly hours out of 168 in a week, then that really is a bit feeble! And, you know, I've paid money for it now...

It doesn't start until the 8th, but that's less than a week!

(Hello Stomper, nice to see you!)

So it begins again

This used to be a fitness blog. Now I want to do that again.

I've had a peculiar sort of summer. I've been jobhunting and also doing a professional-development course (in order to make myself more employable, I hope) and as a result have spent a lot of time sitting down. I think I've probably had less exercise than if I'd been at work.

Just now, my children are at the stage where the Peanut (aged three) wants to walk everywhere (or balance-bike) and the little one (nearly 18 months) is just starting to stagger around the place. So when we're out, we don't go very fast. I used to be able to fit in a fair amount of brisk walking with them both in the double buggy, which also added a degree of resistance - they added up to about 50 pounds of load at the time - but recently that's been a bit difficult to achieve. I don't like to see older children in buggies and I think it's important to keep kids moving as much as you can, so I wouldn't stop them from walking.

So there we are. Days spent slowly trailing around after toddlers, and evenings spent sitting down and studying, and (accountability here) eating too much chocolate and drinking too much coffee in an attempt to keep myself awake. I sort of gave myself a free pass until the course was over, but now it is. Next project: get a bit fitter and - hopefully - lose a stone and a half.

As of today (Monday), I am setting a couple of goals:

No eating between meals. I think setting a blanket rule is the easiest way to do this. We are fairly healthy at mealtimes in this house (the kids eat the same things as we do) so I'm going to see what effect just cutting out snacks has. I'm thinking about doing the 5:2 diet but I'd like to keep it simple to start with.

Try to exercise vigorously three times a week. Not sure how I'm going to schedule this, but we'll think of something. In the past I have not been very good at fitting this in at home - if I can go for a run or pick up my weights at any time, it tends not to occur to me to do it, whereas I've been better at gym-going. But in my current stay-at-home circumstances I would have to schedule a time to go, so... not quite decided what I'm going to do. My husband goes to the gym, and I can't go at the same time as he does (childcare), but he's happy to accommodate my going if I can work out how.

Today being day 1, I have successfully avoided snacks but not done any exercise apart from the usual running up and down the stairs (I do this so often in the course of an ordinary day that you'd think I would be wonderfully fit...) But then the poor Peanut has been home from nursery today with a bad cold and a temperature, so I've been ministering to him. Which is quite exhausting, but probably not terribly good exercise, alas.

Better

The Peanut is better and is home and pretty much back to his usual self. I haven't had time to write a blog post since; I hope if you were worrying, you also read my mum's blog. He was only in the hospital for one full day and night, plus the next day until mid-afternoon.

He's still coughing a little bit, but is now only taking his inhaler if he needs it (and that's been once in the last two days). So we think he's more or less out of the woods. My sister has been up this week, and he's been very happy to see her - also my brother came down yesterday, so we have had lots of nice family time. Being a doctor, he gave the Peanut a once-over and said the wheeze was gone. Good.

The Peanut's verdict on all of this: "Nee-naw!" He's happy that he got to go in an ambulance with its lights flashing.

Unconnected to this, he has had a language explosion lately. Until quite recently, the vast majority of his utterances were phrases a couple of words long ("Big lorry", "Walk please" - that kind of thing). Mostly observations on the scenery or requests.

Then a few weeks ago he started saying "Yes I do!!!" when he wanted to do something, whether or not we had asked him a question. Now that's stopped and it's "Ha ha ho ho". Like this - "Tractor Ted ha ha ho ho", which means "Mother dear, I would like to watch my Tractor Ted DVD now, if you would be so good." We think that "ha ha" is really "uh-huh" and he's filling in the response he wants from us. He also says "Okay okay!" after his request on occasion, in a slightly harried tone, as if yielding to persuasion.

But pretty much since he got home from hospital, he's started saying much more complicated things. The other morning, he and I were in the kitchen while I made his breakfast, and he picked up an empty mug and said "Daddy have cuppatea. Mummy have cuppatea. [Peanut] have cuppatea - ha ha! Wheek wheek."

He knew that he was making a joke - Peanut-size people don't drink tea - although he clearly has a grasp on his parents' cuppatea addiction. (The wheeking was because the mug has a picture of a guinea pig on it.) For the full effect, imagine a two-note "ha ha" like Nelson from The Simpsons (not that he's ever seen it).

Then this evening, I was feeding the Sweetpea before putting her down for the night. The Peanut was in his cot, in his sleeping bag, not yet asleep. He asked for some water and I said I'd get him some as soon as I finished feeding her. "[Sweetpea] water?" he asked. I said no, Sweetpea only drinks milk because she's a baby. "[Peanut] have water, [Sweetpea] don't. [Peanut] have star bag, [Sweetpea] don't."

I would have to admit that the second statement is inaccurate - both the kids are actually using sleeping bags with stars on at this particular point of our laundry cycle - but hey, it was dark. Also, we evidently need to work on grammar a little bit. But this is the first sign of making comparisons!

Eventful week

I was going to write a post about the busy week we've just had. The babies' social calendar was fairly packed: we had events on Tuesday (Rhyme Time at the library) and Thursday (an event at the Book Festival) and two on Friday (Toddler Group resumed and then a kids' party), saw family on Wednesday,  Saturday and Sunday, and then on Monday, another playgroup resumed after the summer. I've been missing the regular groups while they've been off for the holiday, but by about Saturday I was feeling rather depleted from all the socialising and definitely wasn't at my best.

However, all this has rather paled in importance because the Peanut isn't well and has been admitted to hospital.

He's had a mild cold for a few days, and now that I think about it, he was probably working up to it last week too. He was pretty tired on Thursday and Friday, although mostly his usual cheerful self. On Monday he had been OK during the day, though snotty, but in the evening he had been tired and miserable; the Sweetpea chose that day to cut her first tooth, so we had two cross babies!

Over the weekend, he had started to cough a bit, and last night the coughing was bad and he didn't settle down to sleep well. He kept waking halfway and crying and screaming; it was difficult to calm him down because he wasn't fully awake. We would lift him out of his cot for a cuddle and he'd thrash and struggle, and only calm down when he was put back in. All this made him rather hot and sticky and he was rather breathless. We were giving him Calpol and ibuprofen as we usually do for bad colds, but it didn't seem to be helping much. What with all of this, we didn't get much sleep (and the Sweetpea was sharing our bed, because we were worried that the noise from her brother would wake her up too.)

At about 6am, the Peanut woke up and was evidently much worse. He couldn't draw a full breath at all; his chest was sucking in between his ribs (which I've been told is a sign that breathing is very hard). He had thrown up earlier in the night, and he did so again. Anyway, we were alarmed enough to call an ambulance.

The paramedics arrived very quickly and tested the boy's oxygen levels, which were a bit low. They treated him with a facemask which they said had a mixture of medication and oxygen, and he took this very calmly. He was very interested in the interior of the ambulance, particularly the lights in the ceiling, though not as excited as he usually is when he sees a "nee-naw" in the course of normal events, poor kid.

Since the Sweetpea was asleep and she's still on breastmilk and nothing else, I stayed at home and the boys went off to the hospital. Once there, the Peanut had nebulizer treatments and then an asthma inhaler at regular intervals. In the late morning, I got in to see him; my parents took the Sweetpea off to their house and I was able to spend a few hours there.

He is doing a lot better, but still not getting as much oxygen by himself as he needs. Apparently they won't discharge him until he can keep his levels above 92% on his own, and the inhaler can be reduced to every four hours. I don't know how long this is likely to take. Part of the trouble is that exertion seems to make him wheezy again, but he feels sufficiently better that he wants to play and run about. He's been allowed to do this a bit, but for a lot of the time he's supposed to be hooked up to a blood-oxygen monitor, and he's supposed to rest so his heart rate will come down (the nebulizer treatments can make it race, apparently). This is not really compatible with running about or bouncing up and down on his cot like a caged monkey.

My mum stayed with him for a while this evening while J took a break to come home and get a shower and something to eat. This was really helpful. I can't think how we'd have managed without my parents today.

Anyway, I really hope he's better tomorrow; I think it'll be much easier to entertain him at home. Apparently there are a few little kids with similar symptoms in the hospital at the moment; I hope we didn't infect everyone at toddler group.

The Peanut's favourite books

Do skip this post if you have no interest whatever in picture books. I was inspired to write it by someone else posting about wanting inspiration for books to buy as gifts for toddlers other than the really well-known ones - and I thought I'd like to record what the Peanut enjoys at the moment (he's just turned two).

We are a fairly bookish household and own a fair number of these, but some of them are library books. We're lucky enough to have a brand-new library building five minutes from our house. "Wibwary" is one of the Peanut's favourite places in Edinburgh (after Granny's house and the museum) although this may have something to do with the excellent windows which give a good view of the traffic lights on the main road. The boy likes to watch vehicles go past. But he also loves books. Some of these he's loved for a while, some are new favourites.

Recurring characters with more than one book:
The Pip and Posy series by Axel Scheffler (the illustrator of the Gruffalo books). These are simple stories about two friends, a girl mouse and a boy bunny, follow plausible toddler scenarios (having a toilet-training accident, not sharing nicely, getting a fright, letting go of a balloon...) and always have a reassuring ending. They do not have much in the way of bonus entertainment for the adult doing the reading, but they are apparently pitched just right for toddlers, because the Peanut loves them and wants them again and again. The pictures are good for talking about - there's plenty of detail besides the core story.

Spot. Again, very simple stories, usually with flaps to lift. I find them rather boring to read - the pictures aren't as detailed as Pip and Posy - but the boy loved Spot at first sight and will ask for them. He also likes the classic five-minute Spot animations (on YouTube) which follow the books very closely.

The Christopher Nibble books (two so far - a third due out in January). We love these - partly because we have guinea pigs - but the books have lovely illustrations and gentle humour. All the characters are anthropomorphised guinea pigs and their concerns will be familiar to anyone who's owned one (the first book concerns a dandelion shortage!) The Peanut likes to spot "wheek-wheeks" in any book and there are plenty of them here.

Humber and Plum. These are about Hum, a toddler (well, a koala, but it's not plot-relevant) and learning to adapt to being a big brother. It is possible that I like these better than the Peanut does... he is a bit younger than Hum, and he actually didn't appear to resent the Sweetpea when she arrived, so perhaps he doesn't relate! But he pays attention and wants the stories again when we finish. The pictures are very pretty.

Rhyming stories:

Julia Donaldson's books in general. He likes The Gruffalo, but his favourite so far is Tabby McTat, which he would listen to all the way through from quite a young age (it's quite long). It has a city setting and wonderfully detailed Axel Scheffler illustrations which have lots of things to point to. The Peanut also likes imitating Samuel Sprat, the kitten with the deafening mew. You have been warned!

He also likes the Acorn Wood series of lift-the-flap books (same author/illustrator). We've recently acquired The Rhyming Rabbit, also by Julia Donaldson, which is pretty good too - it's about a rabbit who annoys his family by constantly making up poems, so rather than mope, he goes off and finds a friend who likes to make up poems too. I feel this sort of attitude is quite useful in life.

Hairy Maclary from Donaldson's Dairy. We've only got the first one so far, but it's a hit. "Doggies!" Requires a bit of oomph from the reader, also convincing aggravated-cat noises.

Books with pictures to discuss:

The Baby's Catalogue. This is the classic by Janet and Allan Ahlberg. It's a book of pictures following five babies/toddlers through their day, with simple captions rather than a story, and it's good to go through even with a child who only knows a few words. Now that the Peanut is two, he's had a resurgence of interest in making more complicated descriptions of what's going on in the pictures (his favourite at the moment is the picture of the youngest baby breastfeeding, which he is convinced is his little sister). The book was published in 1981 and I grew up with it myself... a few things have changed but the pictures are mostly perfectly recognisable even to a modern toddler.

I would recommend any book by the Ahlbergs but this is the one we've spent most time with so far.

You Choose. This has extremely detailed pictures by Nick Sharratt which all have a theme - houses, animals, vehicles, food, jobs, activities - and the idea is that the reader chooses their favourites from the picture. But it works well with beginning talkers just to point at things in the pictures. We have spent literally hours with this book and have just bought the sequel, Just Imagine. Two minor caveats: You Choose is not a board book (the format's a bit big) and the Peanut tore a lot of the pages a few months ago in trying to turn them to get to his favourite bits. Nothing a bit of book-mending tape couldn't fix. Also, Just Imagine has some pictures that I think I would have found frightening as a toddler - there's one page where the children imagine they were made of various materials, and there's a knitted child unravelling and a wax child melting! This may be one of those things that's more disturbing for the parent than the child, though...

First Thousand Words. Ooh, it looks as though this has been updated again. My mum has the original edition (rather battered) and I have the 90s version, updated with the occasional more modern picture (the tech in that one now looks very old-fashioned, but hey). No story, just a big scene on each page, with a border with little captioned pictures of objects from the big scene. Again, good for talking about the pictures and will probably really come into its own once the Peanut starts to get closer to reading.

Books about vehicles. Because the boy loves vehicles.

Digger Dog. Very simple plot - Digger Dog can smell a bone, but he's having trouble digging it up so he goes and fetches increasingly large mechanical diggers until he succeeds. Two fold-out pages with surprises, which never seem to pall for the boy. Jolly illustrations.

He also loves anything with Thomas the Tank Engine, though I have to admit to mixed feelings about this. I had not remembered quite how petty and quarrelsome the engines are in the original stories (which I enjoyed myself as a child) and the modern stories (such as I've seen) are fairly rubbish.

The Peanut's main vehicular interest, however, is tractors. I have yet to find the platonic ideal tractor book for toddlers, although we have a couple of Dorling Kindersley board books which just have photos of tractors doing stuff with basic captions. There don't seem to be a lot of storybooks about them, but any book with "farm" in the title often has pictures of them, which keeps the boy happy.

Books about libraries:

This seems to be a mini-genre, maybe because children's book writers love libraries. We have two:
Otto the Book Bear - a storybook bear leaves his book and goes on an adventure, and ends up living in a library. We also have Homer the Library Cat which has a similar starting point and end, but goes different places in the middle. The Peanut likes them both, but has been requesting "Book Bear!" increasingly frequently since he got it; I think its illustrations are slightly more accessible (Homer's are quite "busy") but both are appealing.

Chu's Day also features a visit to the library. I didn't know if the Peanut would really get this story - it's a simple plot and words, but there are some relatively complicated concepts in there (trying not to sneeze, for one thing, which is alien to the boy. If he wants to sneeze, he does.) But he thought it was very funny - the not-quite-sneezes in particular, rather than the big denouement. We had to read it four times before he would put it down. So evidently I am not that good at gauging what he's ready for.

X-posted to the livejournal.

Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis

A lot of things have changed around here since I last wrote a blog post.

We still live in the same house (despite having planned to move sometime before the Peanut's birth). We are still married; we still have guinea pigs; I still knit a lot and watch Doctor Who...

However, since January 2012 we have packed in a good few of those Big Life Events. My brother got married; my grandmother sadly died; I finally decided to leave my job; the Peanut learned to walk and also to talk a bit, and... we had another baby! I remember saying airily at the start of 2012 that I would quite like to try for a second child maybe in September.

Ha. I do not know my own mind sometimes. For reasons which seemed clearer at the time, we actually started trying in May and as seems to be the way with us, we succeeded pretty much on the first go. So we had a daughter in March of this year, and she's now four and a half months old, and very cute. And also the biggest baby we know. The Peanut really seems to like her, which is very sweet. He rocks her and brings her toys.


I have felt a bit rubbish lately about the extent to which I am not documenting my children's early lives, mostly because I know I'll want to look back on these days, and you do forget things. I keep trying to remember what age the Peanut was when he reached certain developmental stages (like being able to sit up) and if I didn't make a note of it, then I no longer know. So I'm giving blogging another go. I keep finding myself writing blog posts in my head, and not getting to the point of actually putting fingers to keyboard, but this is silly.

I also feel that maybe my life will develop more of a structure if I'm writing about it. Does that sound odd? What I mean is that at the moment, life tends to scroll on from week to week without much of a narrative. Monday is Toy Library and Tuesday is Rhyme Time at the library and Wednesday is "catching up with household tasks" day and on Thursday we often see my parents or we might be preparing either to visit J's parents or have them visit us, and if we're at home Friday is Toddler Group, and Saturday is another catching-up day and Sunday is church and family day and then we do it all again. I do sometimes manage to achieve things in the gaps in between but it doesn't always feel like it.
 
There are a few projects I'm working on, such as passing my driving test and (eventually) job hunting, but both of these have to wait a little while until my little girl (she needs a nom de blog...) starts to take solid food and entertain herself a bit. Right now, she and her brother are kind of occupying me most of the time. As I remember very well from last time, while breastfeeding isn't the same as sitting around idly, it sort of feels like it.

(Cross-posted to my Livejournal, mostly to see if anyone still reads those.)

The Sweetpea's birth story

I've been writing this in bits off and on ever since the Sweetpea was born and I should really finish it.

It's hard to know quite when to start because unlike my labour with the Peanut (which started at 5am on the day he was born) I had a few false starts with Sweetpea. They tell you that first children are often a bit late, and second children are often earlier. So I thought that the Sweetpea might be born closer to her due date than the Peanut was. He was eleven days late, so I was fairly calm as the due date approached and passed. She was breech up until about a week before my due date, so I'd been stressing a bit about that, and was just hoping she'd stay nicely in position.

A few days after my due date, I got a strong feeling that it wouldn't be long. It's hard to say why, now, because I wasn't having much in the way of Braxton Hicks contractions, unlike with the Peanut. I just thought she would probably turn up that weekend. I evidently carried conviction, because my poor in-laws decided to come up to see me that weekend (by then I was about a week over the date). Nothing happened.

Over the course of the next week, I had to go to see the midwife about booking an induction. For reasons which are more or less superstitious, I really did not want to have labour induced. My mother had an induction when I was born and subsequently had difficulty getting me to breastfeed (she never did succeed). I have heard various anecdotes about induced babies being harder to breastfeed, and also about induction causing long hard labours, and although this is not exactly scientific evidence it's enough to make me less than keen on the idea. Also I didn't relish the idea of being away from the Peanut for extra days in hospital while the induction got going.

I had come within one day of being induced with the Peanut, and had been told then that if I changed my mind at the last minute, that was fine; they wouldn't make me go through with it if the baby was still OK in there. This time around, for some reason, I got a midwife who clearly couldn't fathom why anyone who was nine and a half months pregnant wouldn't want the baby out of there ASAP, and she took the line that although they couldn't make me, she thought that the medical advice would be strongly in favour of going ahead with the induction. This threw me for a loop a bit. I did have a stretch and sweep at the doctor's office, but it didn't have any noticeable effect.

So I hung on for another week. The induction was booked for Sunday morning. I had to go to the hospital on Friday to get a pre-induction assessment (the clinic isn't open on Saturdays) and the midwife there did another stretch and sweep, and that was quite evidently more effective. By the time I got up to go home again, I was starting to feel labour pains. They weren't very strong or frequent, but they kept coming. I spent quite a bit of the rest of the day on the sofa or on my birth ball.

On Saturday, the pains continued to come, but still not very strong or very frequent. They weren't close enough together to make it worth timing them. When the Peanut was born, we called my mum quite soon and she spent the whole day with us, and she and J timed all the contractions, which was possibly a wasted effort since they never did become regular (just eventually intense enough that it was clear I should go in). This time, they stayed fairly faint, and we didn't call for the cavalry, though after a while I did get the TENS machine going. In the evening I decided to have a shower... and standing in the bath, with no TENS, the pains rapidly got going. I almost wondered whether we were going to have an inadvertent homebirth. So as soon as I got out, we called my parents and they came over to babysit, and J and I headed over to the hospital.

We were in the fancy new birthing centre this time, and I don't know whether we were lucky or what, but we didn't have to wait long at all for a room (last time we spent a considerable time waiting to be assessed and then to be moved to a room - or perhaps it only felt like it!) The rooms are set up to be less like a hospital ward and more welcoming. It's a little like a spa or a hairdressing salon or something, since the floors are vinyl and everything has to be easy to clean, but it is more comfortable. There's a bed, but other labour options are more to the fore and I had a room with a pool; while it filled, I sat on a sort of chaise longue thing. We had the same midwife throughout and she was very nice and friendly; I don't know whether labour was really easier this time, but I have a feeling that I talked a lot more.

The birthing pool was WONDERFUL. I have spoken to a lot of people (hi, Mum) who do not feel that birthing pools are an appealing option, but it was great for me. One of the hardest things about the Peanut's labour was that I got very tired physically, supporting myself to be able to labour. I had back pain and it was hard to find a comfortable position to stay in, but it hurt to move very much. The water really helped with that, and besides, it's warm and soothing - like a warm bath, only you can be in it right up to your neck, and it's easy to change position in the water and keep your body more vertical without getting so tired. I did take gas and air (as with the Peanut) but I didn't feel the need for any other pain relief.

I was in the hospital for maybe about an hour when I started to get the feeling I wanted to push, and my water broke at this stage (I have absolutely no idea when the Peanut's water broke, except that at some point it must have done). Weird feeling. Then the Sweetpea was born in three pushes, underwater. Her head was out after the second one, when I had a pause, which was very weird; I put my hand on her head and could feel her hair drifting around in the water, but she didn't need to breathe yet. Then she was properly out and I caught her, and she came to the surface and the cord was cut.

The Sweetpea disapproved of being born, or possibly just disapproved of having to get out of the water, because she yelled at the top of her voice for her first hour of life. She was scarlet and very loud. She was also the biggest baby in the birthing unit at the time, at nine pounds and eight ounces. We were told that she must have been in a really good position, possibly thanks to the water, since she was born with so little pushing and I didn't even have any tearing. I did, however, have a bit of difficulty delivering the placenta and had to have an injection to help the bleeding stop, but it was fine after a short while. Meanwhile the Sweetpea took to milk like a natural.

We were in the hospital only overnight, and then we got to come home, much to my relief.

2011 roundup!

I have been a terrible, terrible blogger recently, mostly because while I can read blogs on my laptop while feeding Nick, it's sort of hard to type anything more than a few words. So here is a summary of the last year in Q&A form, ganked from Shauna (although I am sure I've done it before, in fact).

1. What did you do this year that you’d never done before?

The most important one: having a baby! Also changing nappies (and so on).

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next this year?

I don't think I had any last year, other than "don't fall over on the ice". Which I didn't.

This year I am feeling quite resolution-y. Among other things, I want to sort out what I'm doing with my career and do some writing. I also want to keep in touch with people better (yes, I know everyone resolves to do that all the time...)

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

I did myself, and so (obviously) did people I'd met through ante-natal classes, but nobody else I have met in person. A bunch of longstanding internet acquaintances did, though.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

My great-aunt died in late spring.

5. What countries did you visit?

Sadly, this was another year when I never left the UK - so just Scotland and England. Didn't even make it to Wales this time.

6. What would you like to have next year that you lacked in this one?

A proper plan for the next five-ish years, including a plan for moving house. Ideally, I'd like to be pregnant again in another nine months or so.

7. What dates from this year will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

17 July, when the Peanut finally made his appearance.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Probably getting breastfeeding to work (are you tired of me going on about baby stuff yet?) Also making the Peanut's baby quilt.

9. What was your biggest failure?

Despite my best intentions, ending up having to work late at the office far too much. Not going to bed early enough.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Not really - I had a bit of ligament trouble while I was pregnant, but on the whole I was ridiculously healthy. I put my back out on the 30th of December, which was pretty painful, but it's all better now.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

The Moby wrap - it has made getting out and about with the baby much easier!

12. Where did most of your money go?

Paying off the mortgage (hooray!), my student loan (double hooray!) and I probably bought a fair number of books. And some baby stuff, of course.

13. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

The Peanut. Cryoburn, the new(est) Lois McMaster Bujold. The Doctor Who convention next March.

14. What song will always remind you of this year?

Close To You (I sing it to the baby!) and a bunch of nursery rhymes, probably.

15. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder?

Happier! Last year I was quite stressed, mostly because I was afraid that something would go wrong with the pregnancy. But the baby's here, he's healthy and I love him so much. And I'm really enjoying being on maternity leave.

b) thinner or fatter?

Bizarrely, even if you correct for the fact that I was three months pregnant, I'm thinner. After giving birth, I was half a stone below my pre-pregnancy weight, and I'm also down a jeans size. I did nothing to achieve this, so I don't really count it as an achievement, but I'm pleased, especially as I was expecting the opposite.

My shoulders are also more toned than they have been in years, from carrying the Peanut around.

c) richer or poorer?

Poorer as regards income (maternity pay) but with fewer outgoings too, since I'm not at work and we no longer have mortgage payments.

16. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Pre-baby: I wish I'd had time to have a more chilled-out pregnancy and do things like yoga and going swimming. Next time round (assuming all goes to plan) I'll have a toddler, so I never will get to do all that.

Post-baby: no regrets, really!

17. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Worrying and working late.

18. How did you spend Christmas?

With my lovely in-laws. We had a very pleasant family Christmas, aided by the Peanut being cute and smiley.

19. Did you fall in love this year?

What do you think?



I love both my boys.

20. What was your favorite TV programme?

Doctor Who, but I certainly watched more of Battlestar Galactica than anything else, since I was given the box set to occupy me while breastfeeding at 6am - thank you L and A!

21. What was the best book you read?

Tricky. Honourable mentions to Connie Willis's Blackout and All Clear, and Cryoburn. I also loved The Hare With Amber Eyes.

22. What was your favourite film of this year?

The only one I saw at the cinema was Les Aventures extraordinaires d'Adèle Blanc-Sec, which was fun but very silly. We signed up for Lovefilm, so have seen more films than usual: I also really enjoyed Inception and (500) Days of Summer.

23. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I was 32. I went for a celebratory coffee at the Rocket cafe with Mum and the Peanut, then a wee look around the shops in Morningside. Rock'n'roll. (It was very pleasant.)

24. What kept you sane?

My lovely husband (especially during moments of pregnancy stress, and early labour). Books. Battlestar Galactica. Knitting. Rubbing my face on the Peanut's little downy head.

25. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Pirate Amy Pond. (I don't really go in for crushes...)

26. Who did you miss?

My sister and brother, as always. I've seen my brother more often recently than I used to - which is lovely! My in-laws (although we've seen them often too).

The other wedding

The other wedding that we went to was a mere week after the first one and presented a totally different set of logistical challenges. We were guests rather than family (the groom is our neighbour of several years) so we didn't have to do anything other than turn up, but the wedding was held in Strathpeffer, a village in the Highlands which is about four hours' drive from Edinburgh.

Regular readers of this blog (ha! that would suggest there is anything regular to read...) may recall that we don't have a car, and that J doesn't like driving and I don't have a driving licence. Our total experience of long drives amounts to two trips to see J's parents, over very familiar roads. We have never driven an unfamiliar route, and indeed J had never been north of Perthshire. So that was a bit stressful in prospect.

However, it was all fine, and much of the route was rather scenic, although neither of us understands why 90% of drivers break the speed limit. Clearly we are both actually old ladies.

Strathpeffer is a pretty little village almost entirely composed of largish hotels. It was a spa resort that had its heyday just before the First World War, and the land round about is very scenic, divided between arable land and wooded hills. It's a gentler landscape than one immediately pictures when thinking of the Highlands. Our hotel was a strange mix of the grand (the exterior, the large wood-panelled lobby) and the basic (our room, which had rather 70s decor and 50s bathroom fittings). I think it mostly caters to coach parties. J said that it reminded him of Fawlty Towers and I can see what he meant - not that the service was in any way like that. In fact everyone was charming and helpful (being accompanied by a cute baby seemed to make us popular) and the food was rather good - not something you can count on when your party consists of a vegetarian and a pescatarian who's allergic to nuts and gluten.

The wedding itself went with a swing - held in a pretty little church a stone's throw from the hotel, and the reception in the Spa Pavilion, just a little way down the road. So it was all very easy for those of us with buggies (not just us). It was fun to compare the two weddings - I've never been to two on consecutive weekends before - and I can tell you that it is currently the done thing to have your bridesmaids wearing teal, design your own stationery on a turquoise theme, have a "cast list" in the back of the order of service listing people who've helped out, have female friends singing while you sign the register, and give your guests badges attached to their place cards.


As usual, the Peanut wore a particularly dapper outfit.

We had a lovely time, but the next day the boys were both exhausted.




After they had caught up on their sleep, we decided to make the most of our weekend in the Highlands and go for a walk somewhere in the afternoon. What we had in mind was maybe going to a town, having a wander around with the buggy and maybe going for a coffee somewhere.

The bride and groom were still around in the hotel and we asked their advice - the bride (who is from the area) suggested we go to Cromarty. For good measure, we asked if the hotel had any tourist info, and the receptionist suggested Strathconon as a good place to go for a walk that was near and easy to drive to. We decided to go to Strathconon.

We had gained the impression that Strathconon was a valley with a road along it, where we might stop at any point and have a stroll. That last bit was a misconception (and when we thought about it, the receptionist did not actually say that). It is actually a very beautiful long valley which has a single-track road leading through hilly woods and past lochs, but for much of it there is no place you could stop without blocking the road entirely. We got a bit lost on the way there, and J (who, as I've mentioned, is a nervous driver) was somewhat unnerved by the twistiness of the road and the impossibility of turning around.

By the time we got to the car park at the end of the single-track road, the rain was hammering down.



Some of our party were inclined to be a little discouraged, but we summoned up some British grit and decided to go for a wet walk anyway. The junior member of the party had not noticed the rain.





In the event, we walked for an hour and once we got going we enjoyed ourselves - the path was OK for the buggy, and the scenery was beautiful. We went back at the end feeling that we had been rewarded for our perseverance. And that we now deserved a hot drink (and maybe a glass of wine with dinner).

The next day we did go to Cromarty, and it was pretty much exactly what we'd been thinking of - a pretty town, easy to get to (a scenic drive on easy roads), and where one can walk by the sea.



And as you can see, the weather was much nicer. I'm not sure what the moral of this little tale is: listen to your friends rather than a random lady in a hotel? Or alternatively: go off the beaten track and you may find something good even if it wasn't even remotely what you were looking for?

Answers on a postcard. Anyway, the Black Isle is a very nice part of the world and I'd like to go back sometime for more than a weekend.

Weddings

It has been a busy few weeks in our household. As Isabelle posted a little while ago, our family has experienced rather a lot of big life events this year (birth, a death, marriage, moving house, retirement, redundancy...).

One of the biggest was three weeks ago, when my sister got married. While I can't claim I did all that much towards her wedding, it did occupy us for a while before it actually happened - Mum and I made several trips to the dressmaker both for L's dress and my bridesmaid dress, which had to be made at the last minute because we had no idea what size I was going to be, nine weeks post-baby. It was really nice to have an excuse to meet up with Mum and spend time with her (we became regulars at Cuckoo's Bakery for a restorative coffee afterwards).

I feel a bit guilty about not doing more towards the wedding. I realise that having a very small baby is a fairly good excuse, but my sister's best friend did a lot more than I did.



This is the only photo I have of us... we don't have the official ones yet.

Anyway, the wedding went off beautifully. My sister looked beautiful and just sparkled with happiness. Her other half is an actor/musician and many of their friends are musical too, so the singing (and signing-of-the-register jazz numbers) were of a high standard. She designed all the orders of service, stationery, place cards and so on, so it all looked very pretty, smart and uniform, and they did something which worked really well - they asked each guest for a "fun fact" about himself or herself, and made them into badges which they put at each place as conversation-starters. (The Peanut still has his, stuck to his car seat - it says "My womb name was Billy". You haven't accumulated many facts when you're only nine weeks old.)

The Peanut was very well-behaved throughout, even though we dressed him up like this:



This suit was a present from some family friends in Spain and we feel it has a certain retro charm, although it is perhaps not the most practical babywear ever. He did also have socks and shoes on. The Peanut spent almost the entire reception being passed from admirer to admirer (allowing his mother to do some dancing!) and eventually went to sleep in his car seat/carrier thing depite the ceilidh band still being in full swing. My great-uncle and aunt were staying in the hotel and lent us their room for feeds, which really saved the evening for us (especially as I had to take my dress off to do this - not really feasible in public).

I was surprised how much I enjoyed the wedding - not that I was expecting it to go badly or anything, but I haven't attended a party with a baby before and I had thought it was likely to make things a bit difficult. But ir really didn't. And it was lovely to see so many of our relatives over the weekend, and meet the groom's family, mostly for the first time. His sister and her husband are lovely and I hope we get to meet them (and their two little boys) again.

And then the next weekend we did most of it again because our friends R and E were getting married up in the Highlands. But that is another post.

Five and a half weeks on

Firstly, thank you for all the congratulations on our boy's birth!

The following extremely self-indulgent post is mostly a record for me, so I can write down things about our little peanut's first few weeks before I forget them. So apologies is this is boring (unless you're one of the grandparents or something, in which case it probably isn't).



The Peanut is now five and a half weeks old, and we are starting to settle more into a routine. J took some extra leave from work, so he was home until the baby was almost a month old, which was a great help as we were finding our feet. As babies go, the Peanut does not seem particularly difficult (I may regret writing this later!) He doesn't sleep all that much, but most of his sleeping happens at night, which is pretty good. So although he's too little to sleep through the night yet, often he only wakes up once, which is not too hard to deal with.

Everybody tells you that babies change and develop really quickly at this age, and it's true (not that I thought they were lying...) When they're born, they don't seem to be aware of very much other than milk. But the Peanut started to "track" with his eyes when he was only a few days old, and we had a Skype conversation with his English grandparents when he was about a week old and you could clearly see him trying to work out where their voices were coming from.

At about three weeks he started to take some interest in objects, usually ones with high-contrast patterns on them (which is what the health visitor said would happen - young babies don't have great colour vision but they can distinguish light from dark).



Around the same time, he started to smile as if he means it.



He's also grown. A lot. He was 7lb 2oz when he was born, and now he's 10lb. One week he gained over a pound. As you might imagine, we are no longer having any trouble getting milk into him, although there have been many days when he has wanted to feed all the time. This makes it a little tricky to do anything other than read or watch TV with the baby in my lap. I haven't worked out how to knit one-handed yet (or blog...)

Here he is at four days:


And this is him at just under a month, wearing the same suit. It's now too small for him (but he has it in a bigger size!) Mum thinks it makes him look like a tiny wizard.



He doesn't look like quite such a new baby any more. His first fuzzy hair is just starting to fall out and his legs and arms are getting stronger. He's still not very chubby, but he's definitely both longer and sturdier.



And we love him.

He's here

Nicholas was born a week ago, at 1.27 on Sunday morning.



Since my last post, another week went past without any sign of labour starting. As a precaution, I was booked in for an induction on the 20th, at which point the baby would have been officially two weeks late. I was told that I’d be offered a full health check before they went ahead and if the baby was still fine, they’d be open to the idea of holding off for a little longer, which was a relief to me as I wasn't keen on induction - partly because J and I were not convinced that our official due date was really correct. It was revised from the 16th to the 6th after our first ultrasound, so going by the old date, the baby wasn't even late yet. I was also worried about the higher risk of having to have a caesarean section if induction failed. As I may have mentioned, I've got a phobia about surgery and anaesthesia which I'd been doing my best to deal with, but I was still hoping to have as few interventions as possible.

As the weekend approached I was beginning to come round to the idea of going ahead, though, if the baby really wasn’t here by then.

However, I woke up at 5am on the 16th with contractions that were about 30 seconds long and 7 minutes apart. I lay there for a bit trying to decide whether to wake J up, and eventually I did. We’d been told at our ante-natal classes to phone the hospital when contractions were 7 to 5 minutes apart, so they’d know to expect us later, so we did. They said not to come in until contractions were 60 seconds long and three minutes apart or less.

It was a long wait for that to happen, though. For a long time the contractions didn’t get any closer together. This did give me a chance to finish putting the binding on the cot quilt I was making (perhaps Nicholas was waiting for me to get that finished?)



Mum came over mid-morning, since she was going to drive us to hospital and it seemed as though we'd be needing her services soon. But the contractions never did form a regular pattern, much to everyone's frustration - sometimes they’d be 5 minutes apart, sometimes 10. They stayed closer together but mild if I was on my feet and moving around, but if I sat down on the sofa or on my exercise ball, there was often a slowdown followed by a really intense one when I stood up. Not being able to predict the next one made it hard for me to distract myself with anything else! At this point they weren't hugely painful, though.

J was also there throughout and was great - he and Mum both helped with timing contractions and talked to me to keep me occupied. His parents live 350 miles away, but as it was a Saturday they drove up. Unfortunately they arrived in mid-afternoon, at which point labour wasn't speeding up at all - so much so that I was able to go to bed for a nap, and when I got up the contractions were more than 15 minutes apart again. I wondered if they’d driven for six hours for nothing!

At about 6pm, things started to move again. I had some intense contractions with 2-minute gaps, began to have some back pain which didn’t fade between contractions, and started to use the TENS machine which a kind friend had lent us. At this point I was mostly dealing with the contractions by getting on to hands and knees on the floor or sofa.

We called the hospital again and were told to come in, and got there about 8pm. We had to wait a bit to be assessed and get into our labour room but it wasn’t as bad as waiting at home; by this stage it no longer felt as though everything might just stop. I was examined and told that I was 6cm dilated, so things were definitely happening, but that I would need to labour on a ward rather than a birthing suite, because they had some concerns about my phobia of anaesthesia. I think this was just so that if I did need anything they would be able to provide it without moving me very far and upsetting me.

However, apart from not having a birthing pool available, I don’t really know what more would have been available in a labour suite - there was a bath, an exercise ball and some big beanbags, and I was free to move about and be in whatever position I wanted. In the end, that was mostly on the bed, though not lying down - I had the end raised and used it to support me as I knelt up, which was certainly easier on the knees than the floor. I used the TENS throughout and started to use Entonox after a bit.

During this stage, the contractions were fairly intense and I lost all track of time. I think I spent a long time just leaning over the end of the bed clutching the TENS control and asking J to pass me the Entonox inhaler at intervals!

The midwife told me that they’d check my cervix again at 2am but to say if I felt the urge to push any earlier, and at about 12.30 I did feel it. So they checked and I was fully dilated. Another midwife came in and they helped me to get into a sort of semi-squatting position against the raised end of the bed, and we got on with it. At this point I found it quite hard to feel when the contractions were happening because I felt pressure all the time, but the midwives helped with that. (J asked me afterwards if I’d noticed their “good cop, bad cop” routine, and he’s right - one of them was telling me how well I was doing while the other was saying “You have to push hard NOW, you’re wasting this contraction!”)

After around an hour of pushing, I had a small episiotomy because there was just not quite enough room for the baby’s head - it had looked as if it was going to appear several times but no progress was happening. At that point I was so ready for him to be born that I didn’t care. Nicholas was born a couple of minutes after that, beautiful and remarkably un-squashed looking. I had him on my chest right away and he breastfed four times before morning. We were really elated although poor J had only had 4 hours’ sleep since the previous evening.



The next day, Nicholas was very, very tired and slept for long periods without demanding any milk. This was a bit worrying, especially as when woken up he didn’t latch on very well. He was also a little jaundiced. However, I had plenty of colostrum and was able to express some to give to him by syringe, and that woke him up enough for him to feed on his own. He continued to have difficulty latching on when he was tired or fretful, especially at night when he seemed to want to feed constantly. We stayed in for three days in the end so that we could have one-to-one help from the midwives, but on Wednesday his jaundice was disappearing, he had had all his tests and was passed as feeding well - he’d only lost 5% of his birthweight - so we came home.



I feel very lucky that the delivery went so well, and almost nothing that I was worried about happened. I seem to have recovered remarkably well.



J and I are now engaged in learning to be parents (we've mastered changing disposable nappies and are getting better at cloth ones). J has taken some leave and is getting very adept at cheering N up by singing to him. N is so lovely and we are so glad to have him here.

40 weeks, no baby yet

So here I am, a day past my due date and wondering when this baby will actually turn up. It's funny - I have been saying for some time that I'm in no hurry for the baby to arrive; I want him to stay in there as long as he needs to, because although I want to meet him, I know life will never be the same again. And I've always thought he would be late, because the official date of conception seemed a bit early to us, and then the due date got moved up by 10 days after the first ultrasound (which would mean this is really only week 38 and a bit).

But... now I'm starting to worry slightly about whether labour really will start to happen naturally. I've no reason to think it won't, but I don't feel any different from a couple of weeks ago. On the other hand, the baby's head is now engaged, according to the midwife, so he's going in the right direction.

Then again, maybe it's just that it's hard to imagine giving birth when you've never done it. Mum says this is normal. I had a hard time believing I could get pregnant, if I'm honest. So I suppose labour will just start when it starts, and then we just have to see how it goes.

We are now officially Ready. We have clothes, we have nappies (disposable for the first few days, then cloth - pre-folds, should anyone be interested), we have a moses basket and a Moby sling. I have made and frozen lasagne and spiced savoury lentil cakes and stocked the freezer and the larder. The baby's room is ready and tidy. I still need to finish my baby quilt and blanket, but I'm working on those.

The baby is not quiltless, however, because one of Mum's blogfriends, Dianne, gave us this beautiful quilt, and a shawl and hat too:



Totally unexpected, but very much appreciated - the quilt is now beautifying the baby's cot, which he won't actually be using for a while yet.

So the baby can come any time. I wonder how we'll feel once things start moving? J is a bit nervous; I'm more apprehensive about needing labour interventions than about the natural course of events. But we can't tell how things will play out, so we're just trying to stay calm.

Some people in this house have no trouble staying calm at all.


Right. It is tea-time. I have no idea what we're having for dinner. (I think the aunt-to-be would suggest curry followed by pineapple... she's quite eager for her nephew to arrive.)

38 weeks (nearly)

I'm now on maternity leave. This should leave me lots of time for blogging. And knitting. And doing all sorts of things. It isn't working out quite like that.

I'm conscious that I should really be making the most of this time because I am not going to have this level of freedom again for a very long time... but I'm finding that a lot of the time, I don't really want to do very much other than maybe poke around reading blogs and Ravelry. Unsurprisingly, I don't have much stamina, and I'm tending to find that if I spend a couple of hours doing anything much I have to have a nap. This is a bit weird, given that I don't usually need much sleep.

We did take on one major non-baby-related project: the lawn, which was infested with large quantities of soggy yellow moss. The process of removing it was made more tricky because I am not really up to the heavier work of raking, scarifying and so on, and J is not a very confident gardener. But he has provided a lot of hard labour, and no doubt has removed the moss much more thoroughly than I would have done myself. We've now re-seeded the bald patches and the rain we've had recently seems to be getting the grass off to a good start. This hasn't been a great year for the garden, but at least the lawn will look nice.

We are maybe 90% ready for the baby in practical terms. The baby's room was repainted and had new carpet put in a couple of months ago; we've assembled and arranged a cot and a moses basket, and we have bedding, and clothes (selected with Mum's help a week or so ago). And nappies.

Psychologically... I'm not so sure. Despite the fact that I can feel Billy scooting about (mostly from side to side) it is a really weird thought that sometime in the next two or three weeks, I will be giving birth and we will have a new little person to bring home.

It hasn't been a particularly rough pregnancy. I haven't had any of the pregnancy symptoms I was dreading (sickness, backache, gingivitis). And I haven't had any real health problems or gained a lot of weight. Even the pelvic girdle pain responded to the exercises for a good few weeks and wasn't much of a problem, although for the last month it has definitely been putting a bit of a kink in things. But there could be a lot of worse problems, and at least it doesn't affect the baby in any way.

Until a few weeks past the 6-month point, I didn't look all that pregnant either. Last weekend my in-laws and parents were both here, and Mum was saying "She definitely looks more pregnant now." Well... since the baby is due in three weeks, it would be a little worrying if I didn't.

I still have things I want to do before the baby gets here; both baby-related and non-baby-related. I've got a cot quilt in progress, and I still need to finish off the baby blanket I was knitting. I'm so lucky that my mother-in-law and a lot of my Ravelry friends have contributed knitted garments, because I have so far managed to knit a total of one baby jumper - which I'm quite pleased with, but wouldn't really be enough on its own!

Other than that... I have a few house-cleaning and re-organising tasks I want to do, but so far the famous nesting instinct has failed to strike. I'm trying to get on with things nonetheless (interspersed with naps).

23 weeks

The weeks of this pregnancy seem to be slipping past awfully quickly. People tell you that the time goes very slowly, and maybe it did in the earlier stages (especially when we were waiting to tell people) but at the moment it feels like it's whizzing along. I can't believe we're more than halfway through.

In part it's hard to believe this because I still don't look pregnant, or not that anyone would notice. I am not particularly small-framed and so far, my stomach isn't sticking out any more than it ever was (although it feels different to the touch). I'm not complaining - so far all my clothes still fit, though I don't suppose this will last long.

But we had the second scan two weeks ago and Billy Baby is growing on schedule and appears to have all the requisite organs and things. And he's a boy. Fairly clearly. We are going to have to think properly and seriously about names now (it won't actually be Billy).

I have been able to feel him moving around for a few weeks now. He seems to object to my sitting down for any length of time... and today, in the bath, I actually saw my stomach twitch in response to a kick, which was pretty strange.

Along with not looking particularly pregnant, I have also not had much in the way of health problems, fingers crossed. The only trouble I'm having at all is some pelvic girdle discomfort, and an increasing tendency for my hips and lower back to seize up if I sit still for too long (which is apparently part of the same problem).

Extra-stretchy ligaments run in my family, and all the oestrogen floating around in pregnancy makes them even stretchier, hence the troubles. Apparently my mum had them too. I've seen a physiotherapist, though, who has given me tips on good sleeping positions and some exercises to help, and I am crossing my fingers that if I behave sensibly, it won't get too much worse.

Meanwhile, J and I have been thinking about moving house. We are not absolutely certain that we'll get this done before Billy arrives, although that was the original plan - at the moment, we are concentrating on doing things which will be necessary if we move but still a good idea if we don't, such as getting new carpets to replace the worn-out ones which were here when we bought our house. This is proving a bit time-consuming, especially as I can't lift anything to speak of (unless I wanted to risk my back) or move furniture.

We like our current house a lot, so mixed feelings abound, but it would be lovely to have more garden and an extra bedroom (especially as we are hoping Billy won't be an only child). And we could do with being in an area with better schools. But all the houses we've looked at seem to have been on the market a long time - over a year in some cases - so we're not certain of being able to sell ours, in which case we may have to put the plan on hold. We'll see what happens.

J has not been too well recently, unfortunately. He's been having terrible headaches, and (probably unconnected) severe nosebleeds. We aren't certain why, although the headaches might be down to some sort of food intolerance, or that's the theory. He's been on a gluten-free diet for a couple of weeks in an attempt to see if that's the problem. So far, it is a bit inconclusive. He hasn't had as many headaches, but he hasn't been headache-free either. He's been tested for coeliac disease in the past, and it came back negative, but apparently it is possible to be gluten-sensitive without being fully coeliac. Tricky.

We're sort of hoping that gluten isn't the trigger, because it is such a pain to have to find complete meals he can eat, especially as he doesn't eat meat. We usually eat a certain amount of Quorn and similar vegetarian products, but only the "chicken-style pieces" are gluten-free. Most things you can quickly stick under the grill are out; pasta is out, unless it's an expensive gluten-free version; lots of sauces are off-limits, and so is anything containing malted barley (a surprisingly common food additive). I have had to get creative with lentils, experiment with baking gluten-free cakes and biscuits, and cook lots of dishes with rice or potatoes. It's not impossible - just slightly harder work.

And if it's decided that gluten isn't the problem, we will have to try something else, I guess...