waddle

I'm not waddling but I envisage heightened sympathy if I did waddle. When you briskly march everywhere and occasionally break into a slight jog (to catch a warp speed crawling 1yr old) it gives the impression that you're full of energy and having just too much fun!

OK, I'm only 28 weeks pregnant but I 'm chasing 2 toddlers around and I'm not feeling enough love.

I'm aching in places I won't spell out for you. Actually I will... my pelvic region in general but specifically by 7pm it feels as though I'm carrying a bowling ball between my legs.

Last week the heartburn kicked in. It's not awful but it's no freakin' party either. Especially as it's hardly like I'm gorging myself. No food fits in there! (That being said I have managed to inhale 2 chocolate brownies, a slice of banana bread, 2 bowls of cereal, an apple and chicken and mushroom casserole is warming as I type...)

Husband is great and helps out muchly, although there's little he can do about that bowling ball, but in order to financially support the products of all this baby making he must be at work for several hours of the day. When he arrives home he takes over bath time and bedtime and I could sit down but usually I drag myself to the kitchen to stare meaningfully into the freezer and think about dinner or else I spend time on my hands and knees looking for escapee martians or the 5th ball from the ball popping toy. (I can't sleep until all balls are accounted for and all martians safely back on their planet)

Thing is I actually don't like help. I'm irritatingly independent and perhaps a teeny bit controlling (see above: martians and balls). It's only me who is irritated by this imagined independence. A stranger passing by stopped and noticed me carrying our large double pram down the flight of stairs from our front door to the car and asked if I'd like some help. I was still considering his offer when he added "you shouldn't be doing that in your condition!" Nope, thanks, don't need help. I can do it. Hate to be told I can't or shouldn't do anything. I will carry 1yr old on hip, nappy bag on shoulder, hold hand of 2yr old, pram on head and keep balanced while bump threatens to tip me and I DO NOT NEED HELP!

...until I do (need help) and then I shouldn't have to ask for it. Those around me should intuitively sense that I am now ready for a little help and should carefully lighten my load without me actually realising they're helping and they should continuously comment on how amazingly independent I am and how well I'm coping with two ickle folks and a growing bump.

OK, just re-read and realise that the above may have been slightly hormone fuelled. I'm getting tired and I want help and I don't want help and I can do it all by myself and I can't do everything all by myself. OK!