Our baby is coming soon, and we have entered the final leg of the up-the-duff journey. With four or five weeks at most remaining, the anticipation/anxiety is building. Why anxious? I am plagued with fear that I will have to deliver baby alone in shower while my two year old looks on wide-eyed and terrified. Horrific. If I could seal the exit area with gaffer tape until such time as Daddy-O arrived in the country to join us, I would.
To counter these fears in the interim, I have modified my nine month preggers walk (limping, hunched, waddle-like ... not what you would see at fashion week, for instance) - to include a supportive and firm hand at the base of my bump. This lets the little one know that while we eagerly await its arrival, we are not quite ready. As they told me at pre-natal yoga (last time around, no such indulgences this time) ... "bonding begins in the womb". Indeed it does, and my message is loud and clear - the door is not open for you yet, my child.
In other news, it has only taken me 36 weeks to realise that turning sideways no longer enables me to slip through small enclosed spaces, like between seats and tables at a restaurant for example. Gee, I really kept that up for much longer than was spatially appropriate and have swatted many a head and cornice with my ever growing (and dropping) bump. Sideways = wider. Repeat to self.
I bought a dress today from my favourite shop in Lennox Head .... http://www.rileyburnett.com/gallery/index.html
I need things that move, and do not touch me in any way. The guy tried to talk it up, from a fashion point of view, but I felt I had to describe it as 'sufficiently sack like'. Let's be honest. My bump was between us like an additional shelf unit at the time of the sale ... I will be ready to talk about fashion again in about five months from now. He still threw in some free hairclips for my little lady which was nice (and he was obviously unbothered by her parading around the shop wearing various bangles and holding a clutch under her armpit). I must admit, I was quite proud of how she held the clutch - how does one figure this stuff out?
Last night in the shitfight (there is no other word for it) of getting this over-tired two year old ready for bed (bath, pyjamas, teeth, comb hair, read book, apply cream to sore bits, nappy) with just myself and my bump for company, the time came for me to give her a hard lesson in the facts of life. With lightening speed (quite amazing since she was much too tired to coordinate or focus on anything else AT ALL) she snatched her toothbrush from me "I WILL BRUSH TEETH BY MYSELF", threw it in the toilet, and flushed it away, before I could put my hand in to get it out (yes, I did actually contemplate doing this ... for environmental reasons not because I thought it was okay for her to reuse it after a dust-off!). Oh I was angry!
Her little blue eyes stared up at me, she burst into tears and then said she wanted it back. There was no sympathy from my corner. Only some words outlining the huge ring of plastic crap that swirls around and around in a far-off corner of the Pacific Ocean. There, her blue train toothbrush would end up. And a big beautiful fish would think it was food and eat it and probably die.
I think the message got through, her eyes were downcast, and she contemplated my wisdom that her actions have "far greater consequences" than just the immediate. We are all part of the world and our personal choices should not be seen as isolated from bigger environmental .... blah blah blah. She was asleep in about five minutes. I hope I didn't bore her too much.
Never too young to learn about the cycle of the universe!
Until next time ... I will be finishing off my uni semester (even though I can really no longer read or write and am desperately seeking opportunities to simply lie down and rub my belly), and repeating my new mantra ... stay in stay in stay in stay in stay in stay in stay in stay in stay in stay in stay in.
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