Sitting at home waiting for John

Yesterday my beloved John Lewis made a little booboo. They delivered the pushchair to us as agreed and several other things I had purchased at the same time, and then delivered the several other things again later on in the day. It is very tempting to keep the second delivery and sell it all on Ebay (alas they didn't duplicate the pushchair order) but no, so now I am stuck at home waiting for them to call back and arrange to pick up the box in the kitchen, hopefully before one of the cats mistakes it for the litter tray.

Well things are a bit blahh here at present, hence the lack of posting. There isn't much to talk about really not unless you are interested in the four things going through my head

• how on earth do I get this place clean and tidy before the Peanut makes his appearance and how am I going to keep it that way afterwards?
• Changing bag decision needs to be made (pushchair was sorted, and was delivered this morning in two giant boxes). Was considering a Pink Lining one but it is out of stock everywhere grrr.
• When I started writing this post a few days ago I was becoming not a little fixated on the missing wooden pram toys and the stuff under the bed. Well I am happy to announce that two days ago the FB and I mounted an expedition to the Caverns Under the Bed and have come back victorious. The toys have been found AND all the baby clothes sorted out by age and rebagged. It's quite incredible but the Peanut hasn't been born yet and already he has more clothes than both his father and myself put together.
• the bump is now so colossal that none of my clothes will cover it. They fit everywhere else just not over Mount Everest. And yet despite this guess how many people have offered me a seat on the Underground recently. I'll give you a clue - it is the exact number of shoes owned by the average butterfly.

You see, not very exciting. My brain seems to be just not interested in anything right now except the few things above, Terry Pratchett novels, chocolate and the fact that I seem to be suffering elephantitis of the feet.

Oh and the sewing machine debacle.. I have to send it back to get the sewing needle out and the self threader looked at. It was very tempting MrsT to open it up and get it out myself but I just know that if I had done, something else would have gone wrong! It was one of those days.

When it's good not to be an elephant

1. Pregnancy lasts for 22 months. If humans had pregnancies as long we'd have morning sickness for 7 months.
and
2. They give birth to calves weighing in at 120kg (265lb). OUCH!

There wasn't any kind of zen motive behind all of that; it just occured to me that I'm actually quite lucky and that if I was an elephant (ok am currently roughly the same size as one but that's beside the point) I would really have cause to complain.

There was another "unexpected event" that took place last weekend - I tried out my sewing machine and discovered that the self-threading thingy doesn't work no matter what I do. Tried to fix it and made matters worse by unscrewing the needle and then dropping it into the machine (by accident honestly). It won't come out. Any suggestions or is it ok to leave it in there?

The Unexpected

I think I've mentioned once before that my best friend and I (so high schoolish sounding I know) had a huge argument back in October and haven't spoken since. It was a pretty horrible fight, lots of harsh words were said and at the time meant. But I read a post by Sarcastic Journalist and it made me think, so a few weeks back I emailed her to say hello. Heard nothing back and assumed that that was it, she didn't want to talk to me.
Then on Thursday night someone knocked on the door and it was my friend. She was outside London on business and had hired a car and driven for an hour to see me and sort things out! I can't say that things are the same as they were before we fought but I hope that we can salvage something from the mess.

MrV was supposed to go to up to Edinburgh this weekend for a stag party but backed out because of me and my crutches only for the groom to cancel the whole party because he's not particularly well. So instead of it just being the FB and myself squabbling at home we got to go on a gorgeous long walk through Regents Park in the sunshine.

Two faces of motherhood

What are you? A Yummy Mummy or a Slummy Mummy

Find out here

Still Here

Alas the expedition to the Caverns under the Bed failed to take place last Thursday. I did my chores, made some phone calls then stood up to begin the task ahead of me and CRAACKK my hip went. Since then it has been very touchy and quick to take offense at the slightest hint of walking or indeed spelunking (fab word that).

Oh and no baby yet. He's turned himself around into starting position but nothing happening there either. Never mind eh, 6 weeks to go

Ranulph Fiennes eat your heart out

Over the past two days I have accomplished feats of great daring do that Ranulph Fiennes would scarse believe possible...

Firstly I scaled Mount Wardrobe's eastern side equipped only with a chair. At the summit I was set upon by numerous dust bunnies and lint imps but fought them off uncovering a vast treasure of toddler clothes, christmas decorations and the prize - a bracket to attach a CD rack to the wall in the livingroom. Now MrV has something to keep him occupied over the long Easter weekend. An avalanche was neatly avoided when the stand for the moses basket disappeared down the western slope of Mount Wardrobe and then lodged itself firmly in a cervice between the mountain and bedroom wall.

Yesterday I took on the Great Sideboard of Junk and cleared out masses of stuff. Admittedly a lot of it is sitting in plastic bags in the corner but once the baby clothes and nappies, wraps, liners etc are out from under the bed the older clothes can slot neatly or messily under.

Today it is the turn of The Caverns beneath the Bed, a place to where only the most intrepid of explorers dare descend.

List of Entirely Unconnected Thoughts

1. Back in the mists of time I said something about not wanting to gain as much weight with this pregnancy as I did with the FB - 6 stone it was, which is, according to Google, 38kg. Ladies, and Gent (drum roll please) I have, with just over 7 weeks to go, only gained 3 stone (19kg) making me lighter than I was at this time the last time. And yet my clothing size says the opposite. Why?

2. The cats are being ultra-nice to me since I threatened to send them sea-mail to Australia. The main culprit is sitting to my right purring like mad and making "oh so cute" eyes at me. I am not fooled.

3. The FB is finally getting over his cold, which is good as we were drowning in a sea of white and green tissues. He has also learnt to share, not so good.

4. Back to square one on the whole pushchair front. Original plan was to get a Bugaboo Chameleon but we are saving up for MrV to go freelance so.....any suggestions? I'd like it to have a carrycot, extendable handles and a shopping bag thingy slung underneath.

5. Am very aware that I've been tagged for this real woman/mother meme thingy and it is sort of under construction. The problem is that my brain has eroded and is spewing forth a bunch of rubbish. When I have it back under control (some time in the next decade) I may be able to make a little more sense of my rambling. And possibly learn to spell.

6. The much awaited decluttering failed to happen this weekend. Am starting to wonder if I can do it myself. This however involves climbing onto a chair and I'm not sure the wardrobe is strong enough to be used as a pulley system. We shall experiment tomorrow. If I don't post for while it is because the whole thing has collapsed on me and I am buried under a pile of Ladybird books from the 70s. Please send a search and rescue team with lots of chocolate.

7. Doc has referred me to physio for hip/pelvic/leg pain. Hurrah!